A Rake's Redemption

by Cynthia Breeding

“You are probably right, my lady,” Fern said.

  Something in her tone gave Miranda pause. Servants were always acquiescent, but Fern sounded like she wanted to say more. “Probably?”

  Fern lifted on shoulder. “Inis certainly seems to have Lord Ashley wrapped around her little finger.”

  Miranda narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “He has hardly left her side. Elsie says he sits by the bed when she takes food up. He makes sure the warm brick in Inis’s bed is changed before it cools. He applies the cold compress the doctor ordered himself. He even had the housekeeper bring up scented soap this morning.”

  “I see,” Miranda said, managing to keep her jaw from locking. “It sounds like the hoyden knows how to play the poor, helpless damsel in distress.” When Fern raised a questioning brow, Miranda frowned. “Do you not agree?”

  “I wouldn’t know anything about acting, my lady.” Fern smiled in that cold, detached way she had about her. “Yesterday morning when the…accident…occurred and we maids rushed up the stairs, Lord Ashley was with Inis. His shirt was undone.”

  Miranda felt like she’d swallowed a hot coal, but she forced her voice to sound calm. “Explain.”

  “Lord Ashley gave Inis the only room on the fourth floor, away from the rest of the servants.” Fern shrugged. “It is possible he’d been in her room beforehand.”

  The thought of him rutting with the Irish woman made the fire searing in Miranda’s stomach turn white hot. Alexander was hers.

  “That is certainly an interesting theory.” Miranda gestured to the small bag of coins she’d given Fern earlier. “I will add to that if you can keep me updated.”

  Fern nodded. “Of course, my lady.”

  Miranda nodded, too. “Meanwhile, I will think of something else that will settle this matter once and for all.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Inis was not surprised when Caroline showed up Saturday afternoon. Just because she had to rest her ankle and wasn’t able to work in the stables, didn’t mean Alex intended to put her etiquette lessons on hold. May was only a month away, and no date had been set for the duke’s ball.

  Inis suppressed a smile as Caroline entered the drawing room off the main parlor and looked around, an expression of amazement on her face. The delicately carved ladies’ chairs and small tables had been moved aside to make room for a four-poster bed brought down from one of the guestrooms. Inis’s half bath had been brought down as well and sat behind a damask-paneled dressing screen. Two large, well-padded armchairs and hassocks took up the remaining space beside the bed.

  Inis sat in one of the chairs, her ankle propped on the hassock with a pillow tucked under it. She gestured for Caroline to take the other seat. “Alex…I mean, Mr. Ashley, thought it would be better if I were housed on the first floor,” Inis said by way of explanation, hoping Caroline hadn’t caught the slip of tongue. “’Tis easier on the servants as well, not to have to fetch and carry four flights of steps.”

  “I can imagine.”

  Caroline looked amused, which meant she hadn’t missed Inis’s familiar use of Alex’s name. She really needed to be more careful, particularly since some of the chambermaids resented the fact she received preferred treatment. She couldn’t deny she did. Every time she’d awakened from the laudanum-induced sleep of Thursday night, she’d found Alex sitting in the chair beside her bed. A rather uncomfortable chair at that, which was probably why the two big armchairs from his library now sat here. He’d only left her side yesterday to arrange for the furniture to be moved to the drawing room, and then, he’d carried her down the stairs himself.

  A tingle spread through her as she recalled how he’d pressed her close to him while he navigated the narrow stairwells and ordered her to hang on to him. Not that she’d needed to be ordered. Being held against the hardness of his chest with the warm scent of him assailing all her senses made her hands slide around his neck of their own accord.

  “I really doona want to be a burden to the servants,” Inis said.

  “You should not worry about that. Servants are hired to see to their employer’s needs.”

  “Aye, but I am nae their employer.”

  “Perhaps not.” Caroline tilted her head slightly. “Alexander wants to pass you off as an aristocrat, though. You need to remember that.”

  “I… What is today’s lesson?” Inis asked, changing the subject as Alex came into the room. She didn’t want to discuss servitude in front of him.

  “Reading,” Caroline said, pulling a primer out of the satchel she carried. “We thought it might be good for you to have a basic recognition of words likely to be on a dinner menu.”

  “Dinner menu?” Inis asked, fixing a puzzled look on her face.

  “Yes.” Alex propped himself on the edge of the bed, legs extended and ankles crossed. “At large, formal dinners with seven or eight courses, guests aren’t expected to eat everything offered. The hostess will place a handwritten card by each plate, listing the selections for each course.”

  “You choose what you would like and tell the waiter,” Caroline said, “which is why you need to be able to recognize what the words are.”

  “Do not worry, though,” Alex said. “I will sit next to you at a dinner and offer assistance if you forget.”

  Caroline arched an eyebrow. “Are you not forgetting the hostess is in charge of the seating arrangements?”

  Alex smiled. “Are you forgetting my expertise in winning at cards? I have observed enough sleight of hand to be able to switch place cards discreetly.”

  “An expected quality in a rake,” Caroline said with a shake of her head and then turned to Inis. “Let us get started, shall we? Just in case Lord Ashley’s attempt is thwarted.”

  Inis wanted to tell both of them she knew how to read and write. She was beginning to feel guilty over keeping up the deceit, but she really had no choice. Alex might not send her back to Ireland if he found out who she was, but he would most certainly let her uncle know she was safe, which would amount to the same thing. She’d dealt herself the hand she held when she’d agreed to this scheme. Now she would have to play the cards without Alex’s expertise of sleight of hand.

  …

  Alex walked Caroline out to her carriage after the lesson concluded. “Inis seems to be a quick study with written words.”

  “Perhaps because she could make the association between the pictures and the words,” Caroline said as she folded her pelisse over the umbrella she didn’t need. “The primer I brought was the one used on me when my first governess took over from my nanny at age seven.”

  Alex grinned. “Every seven-year-old girl should know how to navigate a formal dinner menu.”

  “My father did not see any reason to delay my training.” Caroline shrugged. “I was always told I needed to learn proper protocol since I was expected to marry well.”

  Alex’s grin faded. “Good Lord, you were told that when you were only seven?”

  “Never too young to start preparations for the Marriage Mart,” Caroline replied with a hint of sarcasm. “My father made it clear, especially after my mother died, that he had great expectations for me.”

  “I never thought about it that way since I was the younger son who would not inherit the title.”

  “Ummm.” For a moment, Caroline looked bitter. “Sometimes I wish you were the older one.”

  “Why? I’ve never resented George being the firstborn.”

  “Amelia would not have set her sights on him if he did not have the title of duke.” Caroline hesitated. “She would have married you.”

  Alex stopped, one hand on the carriage door he had been about to open for Caroline. “But not because she cared about me.”

  “Amelia is only concerned about status and wealth. Maybe it’s not all her fault. It’s what’s been pounded into our heads for years. While we are trained to be proper wives, our fathers are assessing pedigrees of eligible men to decide on the most beneficial match.”

>   Alex nodded. “The process is not much more than a calculated business deal. Feelings do not matter much.”

  “Perhaps that is why so many bachelors avidly try to avoid being trapped in the parson’s noose.” Caroline smiled. “Especially if said eligible bachelor is a rake as well.”

  Alex quirked a corner of his mouth. “Well, I have to be good at something.”

  Caroline looked wistful. “Sometimes I envy girls like Inis. She has no obligation to make a proper marriage. She’s free to choose.”

  That statement made Alex pause again. He hadn’t thought about Inis getting married. She certainly was of age. At nearly two-and-twenty, she was approaching spinsterhood according to ton standards. Not that he could see Inis caring what the ton thought. She was strong willed and independent minded, traits that didn’t sit well with Society…or with most men, for that matter. Alex would never want to see her spirit broken by some brute who felt the need to force her into submission.

  “Alexander?”

  He frowned at the sound of Caroline’s voice and refocused. “Yes?”

  “You went off woolgathering,” Caroline said.

  “I am sorry,” Alex replied as he opened the carriage door and pulled down the step. “I got lost in thought for a moment.”

  Caroline slanted a look at him as she entered the carriage and took a seat. “Are you really going to send Inis to America once this drama has played out?”

  Alex pushed the step up and closed the carriage door before he answered. America suddenly seemed half a world away. Hell. It was half a world away. In America, Inis wouldn’t be boxed into a rigid layer of Society like she was here. She would truly be free to decide who to marry.

  “Alexander?”

  He refocused again to find Caroline watching him curiously through the open window. “Pardon me. Did you say something?”

  “You did not answer my question. Are you going to send Inis to the States?”

  Alex took a deep breath. “I agreed to it. I will send her if that is what she wants.”

  Caroline arched a brow and tapped the carriage roof with the tip of her umbrella. As the driver flicked the reins and the horses started moving, she called back, “But is it what you want, Alexander?”

  …

  Alex was still brooding over the question when he met Brice in a gaming hell late that night. He’d returned to the house after Caroline left with the idiotic idea of actually asking Inis if she really wanted to go to America, but he’d managed to keep silent. Of course she did. Even a half-wit could see that she had no wish to be a part of society. She practically quaked at the thought of attending a dinner or soiree, let alone the ball where the Prince Regent would be in attendance.

  And, truth be told, even if Inis acquitted herself quite well at any or all society events they attended, once the truth of her lineage—or lack of it—was revealed, the ton would not accept her anyway. The truth would come out. Wasn’t the point of this entire facade to pass Inis off as an aristocrat in order to rub his brother’s nose in royal muck by humiliating him at his own ball?

  Alex was beginning to feel guilty over having brought Inis into this mess, but at least she was getting the opportunity to better herself. He heard that in America, educated women could hold real jobs that in England were only reserved for men. And, if Inis chose to stay, she would be qualified to be a governess at least.

  “Did you lose all your money already?” Brice asked as he joined Alex at one of the non-gaming tables. “You are looking quite dour.”

  Alex shook his head. “I have not even played a hand.”

  A voluptuous-looking serving wench brought over two drinks, bending low as she served to give both men a nice view of full cleavage and lingering suggestively. Brice passed the girl a coin and then raised an eyebrow when Alex didn’t even look up as she left.

  “You are in the doldrums.” Brice took a sip of whiskey and studied him. “Having problems with one of your conquests?”

  Alex frowned. “One of my conquests?”

  “The Countess of Benton was out of sorts at Lady Caldwell’s soiree last week after you walked away from her. Caroline said Miranda snapped at anyone who spoke to her afterwards.”

  “I had no choice but to walk away,” Alex replied with a grimace, “or I would have been dragged up the stairs to an empty bedchamber.”

  Brice’s brow rose again. “When did you ever object to such a blatant invitation?”

  “When it is being offered by someone I have already bedded,” Alex said. “I have no desire to become involved with any of those wives. That is why I send them the negligees.”

  Brice grinned. “I think Miranda wants more than a negligee.”

  “A negligee is all she is going to get. She has had her pleasure. I had mine.”

  Brice took another sip of whiskey. “I hear she is quite accommodating.”

  “You are welcome to find out for yourself,” Alex answered, taking a good swallow of his own drink. “I doubt she has ever turned a man down.”

  “If we were not friends, I would take that as an insult.” Brice managed to look affronted. “I prefer to think women fall for my charms.”

  “Or your title or money,” Alex replied.

  Brice studied him again. “You are in a foul mood this evening.”

  Alex sighed and put down his glass. “I did not mean to take it out on you. I just get tired of the duplicity of the ton.”

  “Ah. Does this have something to do with that Irish groom of yours? Is she not learning to be a lady quite as quickly as you hoped?”

  “Her name is Inis,” Alex muttered and then sighed again. “Actually, she is quite a quick learner. Caroline was impressed with her today.”

  “Then what is the problem? Inis acts the proper lady at the ball, your pompous-ass brother is properly humiliated and embarrassed at having a peasant in attendance and the girl gets free passage to America where she never has to worry about the ton again. Fait accompli.”

  Brice made it sound so easy. And, in a way, he was right. Alex would have accomplished what he set out to do and Inis would not be harmed because she would be far away from the sharp talons and even sharper tongues of the ton. She would not feel the stings or arrows of the gossips.

  But Inis would also be gone.

  The thought did not set well. He didn’t want to lose her, and that realization terrified him.

  Chapter Sixteen

  By the middle of the following week, Inis’s ankle was strong enough for her to walk on it, and Alex had decided it was time for her first social outing.

  Inis had tried stalling, saying she didn’t feel ready to face Society, but Caroline had told her going to the theater was fairly non-committal. People went to see and be seen and, if they stayed in the box during intermission, she wouldn’t even have to mingle. Alex had further assured her he would stay by her side.

  And, as if to stamp “done” to the idea of attending, a new gown had arrived from Madame Dubois for the occasion.

  Inis looked down at it now as their carriage drew up in front of the Theatre Royal on Drury Lane. The material was a beautiful watered silk that shimmered blue and green depending on the lighting. The fitted bodice was embroidered with tiny, silvery stars and not cut too low. No long ribbons flowed from below the empire waist and no frilly lace stuck out from the edges of the puffed sleeves, either. Evidently, Madame Dubois kept careful records of what her clientele preferred. Not that Inis considered herself a client. Of course, Alex was since he ordered the negligees for his paramours from the modiste.

  Inis looked at him sitting across from her in the carriage. His snowy cravat contrasted with his tan face and set off his dark hair, pulled back into a queue for tonight. Beneath the formal black topcoat molded to his broad shoulders, his waistcoat was the same bluish-green color of her dress, with silver threads woven through it. He must have ordered it when he consigned the gown.

  He was breathtakingly handsome, which was something she shouldn’t be
thinking about. He was not escorting her because he was paying court. He simply wanted her to be seen to add more mystery for the gossips. She wondered how many of his lovers would be in attendance tonight, and if any of them would notice the matching waistcoat. She frowned at the thought.

  He must have taken the frown as trepidation. “Don’t worry. You will do fine. All you have to do is sit in your chair and look composed. There’s no reason to be nervous.”

  There was, but not for the reasons he thought. The Irish loved a good storytelling, and the wealthier visited the theatre. If one of her uncle’s friends was here tonight… Inis took a deep breath. The box would be fairly dim inside, and she’d had Elsie help arrange her hair to top of her head and tucked under the fashionable headdress that had accompanied the gown. She should be fine. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to remind Alex of their agreement. “You did promise I won’t have to leave the box until the play is over?”

  Something flickered in his eyes briefly and then was gone. “Yes. I will not allow you to be humiliated. Trust me.”

  It wasn’t humiliation she feared, but perhaps it was better that he think that. “Thank ye. I doona wish to speak to people I doona ken.”

  He nodded as the carriage rolled to a stop and the footman hopped off the rumble seat of the carriage to open the door and put down the step. Alex stepped out and turned, offering his hand to her. Even though they were both wearing gloves, she could feel the warmth of his hand. Once her feet touched the ground, he tucked her hand inside the crook of his elbow and gave her fingers a slight squeeze. It was a more intimate gesture than simply offering his arm, although she doubted he meant anything more than to be reassuring with the gesture. It felt oddly protective, too, as he led her into the crowded lobby.

  He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Smile and look straight ahead. We will be at our box in no time.”

  She produced a wavering smile and lifted her chin as they moved through the throng. Alex greeted a few of the men and nodded to some of the ladies, but he kept moving as he’d said he would. Inis could feel the stares of the women as she passed them. Most were openly curious, a few more speculative, but one woman seemed more interested than the others, even though she stood a distance away. She had slanted, cat-like eyes that studied Inis as though she were prey about to be pounced on. She felt a little shiver slip down her spine and instinctively moved a bit closer to Alex.