Letter From a Rake: Destiny Romance

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Letter From a Rake: Destiny Romance Page 24

by Sasha Cottman


  He prayed his cousin would be home. If any man in London had more than one lifetime’s experience in getting himself out of tight spots, it was the Earl of Shale.

  ‘What did they call the baby?’ he muttered to himself as he climbed the front steps of the earl’s home. He remembered his cousin’s wife had been delivered of a boy a few weeks after the Easter Ball.

  After exchanging the obligatory congratulations and holding the newborn for two minutes, Alex was finally ushered into his cousin’s study. ‘We won’t be long, darling,’ Lord Shale called out to his wife as he closed the door behind him and pointed Alex in the direction of a chair beside the fire. The Countess of Shale said something which Alex did not quite catch, but his cousin let out a hearty laugh.

  ‘I thought she might have mellowed with the arrival of the baby, but I should have known better,’ Lord Shale said, taking a seat in the club chair opposite Alex. ‘She will be the death of me, but I shall die a happy man. Drink?’

  ‘Just tea, please. That’s a fine looking lad you’ve got yourself,’ Alex replied.

  The earl grinned. ‘That’s what comes from good bloodlines. Heard you might be starting your own family shortly, my dear boy. Kept that one close to your chest.’ He gave Alex a friendly punch on the arm.

  Alex sighed.

  ‘That is not the look of a man heading happily into the parson’s noose,’ the earl said.

  ‘No, it is not,’ Alex replied sadly.

  Lord Shale chuckled and Alex looked up. Seeing the knowing look and the grin on his cousin’s face, he realised his cousin knew the whole story. ‘David’s been here, hasn’t he? You know all about the mess I’ve gotten myself into, you grinning gargoyle,’ Alex replied.

  The earl raised his hands in surrender, while continuing to laugh. ‘Yes, he came this morning and he, being his usual caring and generous self, bought a present for my son and heir. Unlike you, you lovestruck ninny.’

  ‘Well, at least someone manages to find the humour in all this,’ Alex replied, shaking his head.

  The earl poured himself a glass of claret and then rang the bell to order Alex a pot of tea. ‘The good thing is, Rosemary and I have had all afternoon to think up a solution to your problem.’

  As spies during the war against Napoleon, the earl and his wife had faced enough close calls for Alex to be certain they already had a well-planned solution to his problem. He would simply have to follow their instructions and all would be right with the world.

  ‘All right, tell me slowly and I shall commit it to memory,’ Alex said, grateful that his cousin was privy to the secret that he could not read or write.

  The earl put his glass down on the table next to him. He sat forward in his chair, clasped his hands together and took a deep breath then pursed his lips. ‘Beg.’

  The only sound in the room for the next minute was the crackle of the logs in the fire place.

  Slowly Alex let out the breath he had been holding. ‘You fought half the French secret police and that is all you can recommend?’

  ‘Actually, it was Rosemary’s idea. I spent hours racking my brains, and all I could think of was suggesting you take the first ship to Italy. Then I realised your father might not think too highly of me if he discovered that I had suggested his heir flee the country.’ He sat back in his chair and viewed Alex from over steepled fingers.

  ‘This is how we see it, Alex. If you tell Lady Clarice the whole truth, both you and David will be the next meal for Langham’s biggest dog. You, for being stupid enough to send that letter, and David for having the cheek to fall in love with his daughter. That man will only settle for Lady Clarice marrying a duke or, in your case, a duke in waiting.’

  Alex nodded in agreement. The Earl of Langham currently posed the greatest threat to his personal safety. Charles Ashton was a mere babe in the woods compared to the reputation Clarice’s father wielded as a dangerous man.

  ‘Tell Lady Clarice you cannot marry her, and then get on your knees and offer her anything, just as long as she will give you the letter back and forget about the whole sorry mess. As for the Ashton girl, we have come to the conclusion that we cannot help you.’

  ‘What?’ Alex stammered.

  His cousin shifted in his chair. ‘The only thing we can suggest is that you tell her the whole truth, if you want any chance of her accepting your suit. Sorry, Alex, but honesty is the only weapon you have at your disposal in that fight. If she thinks you are a liar, she will never marry you.’

  A knock at the door saw the arrival of a footman carrying a tray with a welcome pot of tea and one cup. After pouring for Alex, the footman set the pot down on the table and left.

  ‘Still not drinking tea? I don’t think there are any French spies in your kitchen plotting to poison you,’ Alex said, sipping his hot tea.

  His cousin shook his head. ‘One can never be too careful.’

  Alex put his cup down. He got to his feet and stood for a moment quietly absorbing his cousin’s advice. ‘All right,’ he finally said. ‘I shall do it. I shall throw myself on Lady Clarice’s mercy and do whatever it takes to get her to jilt me.’

  ‘Good lad,’ the earl replied and offered his hand.

  Alex waved it away. ‘You can shake my hand when I have got things sorted; until then I am a man on an unfinished mission.’

  The earl downed the rest of his wine and laughed. ‘Far more dangerous than any I ever undertook. At the worst, I could have been killed. You, however, young Brooke, could find yourself with the Earl of Langham as your father-in-law. I would much rather face a French firing squad, thank you very much.’

  It was dark by the time Alex left Duke Street, only slightly the wiser for the experience. His next stop should be Mill Street and the Earl of Langham’s house, but the thought of seeing Lady Clarice so soon after the berating he had received from Millie filled him with dread.

  Was it possible to die twice in one night?

  As he walked the short distance home, his stomach began to rumble. With Mrs Phillips now in residence at Strathmore House, there would be no hot breakfast at home for the next week. He swore. The prospect of waking to an empty house was bad enough, but with only hot tea for breakfast it would be purgatory.

  I can’t exactly write the footman a shopping list.

  David certainly knew how to punish a man in the cruellest of ways.

  He could, of course, head to White’s and get a hot meal there, but the thought of having to shake hands with more well-wishers put paid to that idea. There was also the real danger that he might run into Clarice’s father.

  ‘Time for an evening stroll, methinks,’ he murmured to himself, as he stuffed his hands in his coat pockets and headed in search of an onion pie from the bakery around the corner. Alex had a sinking feeling he’d be a regular customer over the next week, or at least until he could steal Mrs Phillips back from his brother.

  By the time he arrived in Oxford Street, he had a long list compiled in his head. Man could not live by bread alone, but add some cheese, a jar of pickled herrings and some apples and he could manage quite well.

  ‘For someone who was desperate to get to the tea shop and have a bun, you barely touched any of it,’ Charles said, as he and Millie made their way home from their visit to the park.

  She shrugged her shoulders. The visit to the tea shop should have been her victory meal; instead all she could taste were ashes in her mouth. For days, as she and the two family servants went for their early morning walks, she had rehearsed just what she would say to Alex when they finally met once more.

  Last night, she had conducted herself with dignity. Today, when she’d had the chance, she had let Alex know exactly what she thought of him.

  But not how I feel. How can you tell a consummate liar that he has broken your heart? And that for the briefest of moments, he let you believe you could be happy in this place? That you thought he saw more in you than others did?

  There was so much more she had wanted to say to him
, but now as she trudged silently beside her brother, she realised how pointless it would all have been.

  ‘Millie?’ Charles said.

  She stopped and hurriedly turned her back to the other people in the street. Charles took a step closer and, putting an arm around her, pulled her close to him. He pointed out several items in the window of the milliner’s, while Millie wiped the tears from her face. ‘Are you all fixed?’ he asked a moment or two later. ‘Brooke really did hurt you; I never realised how much until now.’

  She straightened her bonnet and gave him a smile. ‘Yes, thank you. For some silly reason you always know exactly what to do in a moment of crisis.’

  ‘Remind me of that when I am out searching for a wife this season, I can add it to my long list of admirable qualities,’ he replied.

  Millie shook her head. ‘Come on, let’s go home.’

  Chapter 19

  The following afternoon, Alex was standing on the street corner opposite the main entrance to Hyde Park.

  Waiting.

  If Lady Clarice Langham stuck to her usual daily routine, she would pass by this spot before heading into the park to join the fashionable hour.

  Soon after he woke, Alex and Phillips left Bird Street and spent most of the day downstairs in the kitchen at Strathmore House. Alex hid there from David while Phillips helped his wife prepare batches of freshly baked biscuits to keep Alex fed.

  Around four o’clock, Mrs Phillips sent Alex on his way, with a full stomach and a small bag of fresh oaten biscuits. ‘Mind you don’t crush them in your coat pocket, Master Alex,’ she said. He smiled. He would one day be the Duke of Strathmore, but to Mrs Phillips he would always be young Master Alex.

  ‘Thank you, Mrs P; I would have starved without you,’ he replied, as he headed up the kitchen steps. ‘I just hope I live long enough to enjoy them.’

  As he waited for Lady Clarice to pass by, he leaned against a gas lamp and watched as the cream of London society made its way down Park Lane. Putting a hand into his pocket, he found the wrapped, still-warm biscuits sitting deep inside.

  He pulled a biscuit out and slowly ate it, savouring every crunchy bite. Then he pulled out another one and ate that too. By the time Clarice and her friends finally appeared, Alex had eaten all six of the biscuits and was feeling rather ill.

  He brushed the crumbs from his fingers and straightened his clothing. This would be the hardest thing he had ever done. If he couldn’t pull it off, he would be honour-bound to marry Lady Clarice. He would gain a wife, but lose his brother in the process.

  And Millie.

  As the group of well-dressed young women approached he puffed out his cheeks and tapped the side of the lamp post for good luck. With his best nonchalant smile on display he walked towards Lady Clarice and her friends.

  ‘Good afternoon, Lady Clarice, I trust you are well? Ladies,’ Alex said, giving a bow.

  Clarice stopped and gave him a dirty look. ‘Lord Brooke,’ she replied coolly, while her friends giggled into their gloves. Inside his boots, Alex curled his toes.

  ‘Are you and your friends heading for the park?’ he asked. It was an obvious and stupid question, but just talking helped to calm his nerves.

  ‘We are,’ replied one of the other girls. ‘You should come with us; you could walk with Lady Clarice and whisper sweet nothings in her ear.’ The girl turned and smiled smugly at her companions.

  Clarice rolled her eyes. While Alex could not understand what David saw in her, he could appreciate that she had little patience with the behaviour of her insipid friends.

  ‘Yes, Susan, that is a wonderful idea. How about the rest of you go on ahead and I shall walk with Lord Brooke. My maid can accompany us. I am certain we have many things to discuss. Off you go.’ She waved her friends away. Lady Susan’s face fell at being dismissed, but she quickly laughed it off.

  Alex and Clarice stood and watched as her friends crossed over Park Lane and out of earshot.

  ‘You have them on a tight rein,’ he said.

  She shook her head. ‘And sometimes I would love to strangle the lot of them with it.’ Alex offered her his arm, but she ignored the gesture and instead reached inside her reticule and pulled out a folded piece of paper. As soon as he saw the broken wax seal, he knew it was the letter he had mistakenly sent to her from Scotland. His heart began to pound heavily in his chest.

  ‘I think you ought to have this,’ she said, handing him the letter. ‘I don’t know what must have come over you to write it, but it was clear last night that you no longer hold those sentiments. If ever you did.’

  A large gush of relief escaped Alex’s lips before he could stop it. ‘Well, I —’ A flash of anger crossed Clarice’s face.

  He grabbed her by the arm. ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Believe me, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. It’s just that I have been so worried about seeing you and trying to sort things out. This should never have happened. None of it.’

  ‘But it did,’ she replied sadly. ‘And I stand to be held up to public ridicule as a result.’

  ‘I know, and I hate myself for doing this to you,’ he replied. He looked across the street and saw Lady Susan and her cronies waiting. They waved at Alex and Clarice. Clarice ignored them.

  ‘Is there somewhere we can talk in private? There are a few things we need to discuss, and I don’t need a Greek chorus standing by,’ she said.

  ‘I would appreciate the opportunity to talk. You deserve to know how this whole mess came about,’ he replied.

  Or at least as much of it as I can tell you without making things worse.

  Clarice waved half-heartedly to the girls across the road, before taking Alex’s arm. ‘We had better follow them. If we are alone together for too long, it will only make matters worse.’

  Once inside the park, Clarice and Alex continued to walk together, just out of earshot of her friends.

  ‘I am sorry, Lady Clarice, but I cannot marry you,’ Alex finally said, feeling like an utter heel.

  ‘I know,’ she replied.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Why am I certain that you cannot marry me? Well, for a start, you have never shown the slightest bit of romantic interest in me in all the time we have known one another. When the letter arrived I thought perhaps you were being made to choose a bride, and so you had thought better the devil you know.’

  ‘I would never do that to you,’ he replied.

  ‘Before you sent me that letter,’ she said, pointing to Alex’s coat, where the letter now resided. ‘I would have said the same, but now I don’t think I know you at all.’

  Alex sighed. At least he could be grateful that David wasn’t hearing this conversation.

  ‘What can I tell you?’

  ‘The truth would be a good start,’ she replied.

  He stopped, ignoring the fact that they were now falling well behind Clarice’s group of friends. Summoning his courage, he told Clarice as much as he could without revealing the whole shameful truth. He did not once mention David’s name.

  After quietly listening to his explanation of how a letter, which was never meant to be mailed, got sent to her by mistake, Clarice opened her reticule and took out a pencil and a piece of paper. She scrawled something on it and then handed it to him. He glanced at the paper, pretended to read it, and then stuck it in his pocket alongside the letter.

  ‘This is what you are going to do, Alex, without question. Any deviation from my plan and I shall go straight to my father and tell him you have ruined me. He will have us bound together as man and wife before this day is over. I only have to say the right word in his ear and you shall have yourself a blushing bride.’

  She checked around quickly, ensuring there was no one else nearby. ‘Do I make myself clear?’ she asked, her anger still obvious.

  He nodded, as a sinking feeling began to form in the pit of his stomach.

  Clarice took a deep breath and clicked her tongue. ‘Good. Since the whole of the ton expects to h
ear an announcement regarding our betrothal, we need to do something to kill that speculation stone dead. So we shall stage a very public argument at a very public event. At the end of which, I shall jilt you, making it clear to all and sundry that you are not suitable husband material.’

  ‘But —’

  ‘Be quiet, Alex; I’m not finished. I might be letting you off the hook, but I did not say it would leave you without scars. You have no idea what the past few weeks have been like for me. From the moment that ridiculous letter arrived, my life has been turned upside down. If it isn’t my father asking when our engagement is to be announced, it is infuriating Lady Susan gloating over the fact that she was there when I received it. I have felt sick every day since then, wondering when you were going to arrive at my father’s door and tell me exactly what on earth you were playing at!’

  ‘Oh,’ Alex sighed, dropping his head and staring at the ground. The full reality of his careless efforts to communicate with Millie was truly hitting home. He had hurt David and Millie, that much he understood and accepted, but it had never occurred to him that his one act of random stupidity had caused so much chaos in other people’s lives.

  He now added self-loathing to the growing list of miserable emotions he had recently experienced for the first time in his life.

  ‘Clarice, what can I say?’

  ‘You can say yes to my next demand,’ she replied.

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘I want to meet whoever wrote that letter, because I know you didn’t. No one could pen those words and then greet me the way you did last night. I have known you long enough to be sure you don’t understand the meaning of half those emotions. I don’t even think you read the letter Alex, let alone wrote it. And don’t go thinking that just because I have given you back the letter, I don’t recall every single word of it. I have studied it long and hard, and can recite it word for word. So can Susan.’

 

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