In Bed with a Rogue

by Samantha Grace

  Lavinia’s head snapped up and there was a defiant spark in her eyes. “Do you think I wanted to become a whore? I fought it like the devil himself, but eventually—” Her sister’s throat worked as she fought against the emotions bubbling to the surface. “I worked as a cleaning woman for a time and that kept us from starvation, but it would never provide a better existence for the younger ones. I took a position in a tavern because I could earn a better wage. That is where I met John O’Riley and my future was cast in stone. Every day he would come to the tavern and try to lure me into the brothel. He made promises that I knew were false, so I refused his offers for weeks.

  “Then one morning, the son of a longtime family friend came to call. Father had been an invalid for almost a year at that point. He was very ill when Mr. White appeared.”

  “How did Father become an invalid?”

  Lavinia’s gaze cut to Sebastian as if to question his presence when they were discussing family matters. Helena nodded that it was all right to proceed. He would need to know the ugly truth about her father, so there was no doubt he should cut ties with her.

  “He…uh, fell…from the Westminster Bridge.”

  “You mean he jumped.” It wouldn’t have been the first time he was deep in his cups and feeling sorry for himself. Helena had never been so happy her father was such a poor hazard player as the day he tore the house apart searching for his firearm only to remember he had wagered it away a month earlier.

  Lavinia sighed. “Yes, he jumped, although it seemed wise to repeat his version of having fallen. As luck would have it, he dove from the bridge in the middle of the day when travel on the Thames was at its peak. He was fished out of the water and brought home with a broken back. He couldn’t move his arms or legs and had to be cared for like a baby. I wanted nothing to do with him, so Pearl took it upon herself to be his nurse. She has Mama’s patience.”

  Helena perked up at mention of her other sister. “Where is Pearl now?”

  “Cora said Pearl is living in Haslemere. She answered an advertisement to play nursemaid to an injured farmer. Apparently she likes caring for others and is good at it.” Lavinia shrugged. “It isn’t the life I wanted for her, but it is better thanmost alternatives.”

  Helena didn’t know how to respond. If she again expressed sorrow for how Lavinia’s life had turned out, she feared angering her. Instead, she focused on what they had in common, a love for their sisters. “Where are the others? Cora and Gracie?”

  “Cora is married and Gracie is here. She is asleep abovestairs, but I can take you to see her if you like.”

  Her sisters were alive. Gracie was here, in this very house. Tears burned in her throat and she swallowed to ease the ache. “I—I do want to see her, but I have many questions yet.”

  Lavinia nodded. “As do I, but you are eldest. I will answer whatever you wish to know.”

  Helena’s sisters had deferred to her in all things when they were young. Time and distance hadn’t changed much, it seemed. “You mentioned an old family friend paying his respects.”

  “Thomas White, he is a butcher in Clerkenwell. Our fathers apparently entered into an agreement some years ago that Mr. White would marry one of us. Before Father began gambling. He’d promised a ridiculous dowry, too. I considered chasing Mr. White away with the broom when I learned the real reason he had come, but Mr. White was posing a solution I couldn’t afford to throw away. I agreed to consider his offer, but he’d set his heart on Cora.”

  “But you were the next oldest. Why didn’t he offer for you?”

  Lavinia glanced at Sebastian then cast her eyes down. “Cora was beautiful beyond compare at sixteen and had that air of innocence men like. I understood why he wanted to offer for her.”

  Yet the honorable thing to do would have been to offer for Lavinia. Then her sister would have been saved from this life.

  “Mr. White agreed to marry Cora for the fifty-pound dowry promised him, and for an additional twenty pounds, he allowed Pearl and Gracie to live with them too. It wasn’t part of our agreement, but he paid a solicitor to write up Father’s will. Mr. White has guardianship of our youngest sisters.”

  “Seventy pounds would be hard to come by working in the tavern,” Sebastian said softly.

  The hard lines in Lavinia’s face melted and her eyes shimmered with tears. Helena held tightly to his hand to fight the urge to go to her. Her sister had somehow maintained her pride, and Helena sensed she would retreat behind her impenetrable wall if she moved.

  Lavinia sniffled. “I never would have earned that type of money at the tavern. I saw but one choice to save our sisters. I sought out John O’Riley. For seventy pounds, I would come to work at the brothel.”

  Sebastian frowned. “Men like O’Riley do not part with money easily. Working at the brothel couldn’t have been the extent of your promise.”

  “No, I became his property until my debt was settled.”

  Helena’s disgust must have shown, because Lavinia’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t regret anything,” she said through clenched teeth. “Our sisters were protected from the life I’ve lived. I would make the sacrifice a thousand times over to see them happy.”

  Helena’s bottom lip trembled. “I blame myself for not protecting you too, Lavinia. I hate that you have suffered, but I understand why you did what you did. I have nothing but respect for your unselfishness.”

  Sebastian’s arm slipped around Helena’s shoulders. “You both made great sacrifices for your sisters. Just this afternoon Miss Kendrick told me that you went with Prestwick to save Cora from a beating.”

  Lavinia blew out a breath and the rigidness in her shoulders eased. “Forgive me. I only wanted to do as you asked and take care of our younger sisters. I’ve always worried you would be disappointed in me if you knew.”

  “Never.” Helena scooted to the edge of her seat and reached for Lavinia’s hands. Her sister readily curled her fingers around Helena’s. “A day hasn’t passed without me missing you. I wanted to write, but Prestwick reminded me you wouldn’t be able to afford the post. I asked him to send money, but he said he had taken on the burden of supporting me and had done his duty already.”

  A low growl rumbled in Sebastian’s chest.

  Lavinia lifted a brow in his direction. “Lord Thorne and I are in agreement. Your husband was an arse.”

  Helena’s face flamed and she released her sister. She hadn’t allowed herself to think unkind thoughts about her husband, because he had saved her from her sister’s fate. He had hired a tutor to turn her into a lady and given her a home and a respectable position in Society. It seemed too ungrateful to speak poorly of him, but she couldn’t defend him to Lavinia. He could have saved them all and had refused.

  A petite gray-haired woman appeared in the parlor doorway with a cart. “Are you ready for refreshments, Lavinia?”

  “Please, come in and join us, Edith.” Lavinia caught Helena’s curious look. “We are dear friends and Edith stays on as my companion.”

  “St. Ambrose provides well for you,” Sebastian said.

  “I owe him everything. He found me at Madam Montgomery’s and brought me here after paying my debts. He made a home for Edith too.”

  The older woman smiled fondly at Helena’s sister and began pouring tea.

  Lavinia accepted the first cup and passed it to Helena. “When Cora heard of my improved circumstances, she insisted I take Gracie. Her husband has several mouths to feed already. St. Ambrose arranged for our youngest sister to come live here as well, although this is no place for a child. That was eight months ago.”

  It seemed her sister had found a generous benefactor, but Helena didn’t know how long Lavinia would receive his protection. According to Olive, gentlemen tired of mistresses quickly and discarded them. Helena sat up straighter. Her sister would never need to worry about her future again. Wickie had left Helena a fortune and there was no heir to inherit.

  “Do Pearl and Cora remember me?” she asked.


  Lavinia chuckled. “Do you truly think any of us could forget you? You were like a mother to us.”

  A deep longing tugged at her, the feel of their baby sister’s weight on her hip. Her chubby fingers tangled with Helena’s hair. She hadn’t felt it this strongly since those first months away from her family. “Could I see Gracie now?”

  Lavinia set her cup aside and stood. “Of course. Lord Thorne, is there anything Edith could get for you while you wait? St. Ambrose keeps brandy in the study. I’m certain he wouldn’t mind if I offered you a drink.”

  “A brandy would be lovely, Miss Kendrick.”

  At the doorway, Helena glanced back at Sebastian and he shooed her away with a grin. “Go see your sister.”

  Twenty

  Sebastian paced the parlor as he waited for Edith to return with his drink. His fingers curled tightly into fists at his side. If Prestwick were still alive, he’d call him out. How the bastard could look into Helena’s soulful eyes and refuse to help her family proved how dark his heart had been. And her own father gave her away. Sebastian cursed him under his breath.

  A door slammed and he jumped.

  “Where is he?” a man demanded.

  “My lord, it’s not how it appears.”

  “Lavinia!” Angry footsteps stomped down the foyer and started up the stairs.

  Bollocks! It was St. Ambrose, and he was going to discover Helena. Sebastian dashed for the parlor door. “Are you looking for me?”

  The marquess halted near the top of the stairs, turned, and slammed back down the stairwell. “What the hell are you doing in my house?”

  Edith cowered at the edge of the foyer. Her gaze was trained on the stairs as if contemplating the odds of reaching the upper floor before the marquess overtook her.

  Sebastian lifted a haughty brow as the man approached. “Clearly not what you think.” He spread his arms wide and indicated his clothed state. “But you have a wicked imagination, St. Ambrose.”

  The man bore his teeth and drew back his fist. Sebastian bobbed to the left just in time to dodge. The marquess’s punch merely grazed his ear. His miss fueled his rage and he charged Sebastian. Sidestepping, Sebastian kicked out his foot to catch St. Ambrose’s ankle. The marquess lurched forward into the parlor and landed hard on a side table. The fragile piece splintered.

  The man was older than Sebastian’s five-and-twenty years, which gave Sebastian a slight advantage, but the marquess was still fit in his early thirties.

  “If you will listen instead of trying to kill me, St. Ambrose, I can explain my presence.” Only Sebastian hadn’t thought that far ahead. He couldn’t think of anything other than getting Helena out of this situation unscathed, which might mean admitting to something he wasn’t guilty of doing.

  The marquess wasn’t interested in an explanation anyway. He lumbered to his feet, his face redder than Sebastian thought humanly possible. “I know who you are,” he said with a jab of his finger in Sebastian’s direction, as if that explained the man’s mad behavior.

  This time when St. Ambrose barreled toward him, Sebastian hooked an arm around his neck and swung behind him to lock the man in a hold. The marquess struggled and Sebastian tightened his grip. He didn’t want to cut off the man’s air, but applied pressure to his windpipe to show he could if he wanted. This didn’t slow St. Ambrose. He cursed and bucked as Sebastian threw his weight against him in an attempt to knock him to the ground. St. Ambrose’s leg kicked back and struck Sebastian’s shin.

  “Damnation!” He jerked the marquess to the side in one last effort to take him down and they both stumbled into the tea cart.

  The porcelain pieces fell one after the other and shattered on impact with the wood floor. A feminine screech made them both jerk upright and spin toward the door. Miss Kendrick stood in the threshold, her fists punched to her hips.

  “Gus, what the devil are you doing?”

  Helena came up behind her sister. Sebastian mouthed the word go, but she stared at him in bemusement. Did the stubborn chit ever listen?

  “I was going to ask you the same, Lavinia.” St. Ambrose wrenched free and dusted off his trousers. His gaze landed on Helena. “Lady Prestwick, are you here with Thorne?”

  Sebastian winced. They were in a pickle now.

  Miss Kendrick lifted her chin. “She most certainly is. Now why are you attacking my guest? I’ve never seen you behave in such a manner.”

  A young girl with eyes as big as Helena’s padded into the parlor. Bare feet stuck out beneath her white night rail. She cocked her head to the side to study Sebastian. “Do we have an intruder?” She was strangely calm about the situation.

  Miss Kendrick hugged her. “No, my darling. Lord Thorne is not an intruder.”

  “What is he doing here?

  Sebastian offered a slight bow. “I’m sorry we frightened you. You are Gracie, are you not? My name is Sebastian.”

  “I wasn’t frightened.” The girl’s smile was identical to Helena’s. “It is nice to meet you, sir.”

  Miss Kendrick smoothed a hand over Gracie’s honey-colored curls as Helena watched with a pained look. “Lord Thorne brought a visitor to see you,” Miss Kendrick said. “Do you remember hearing about your oldest sister, Helena?”

  St. Ambrose sucked in a sharp breath, his gaze shooting to Miss Kendrick, then Helena. Gracie turned assessing eyes on Helena too.

  “Yes, she was the best sister any girl could want and she loved me very much. She died when I was a baby.”

  Tears pooled in Helena’s eyes. Sebastian went to her, unable to stand by while she suffered. She sank against him. Her trust was welcome and he silently vowed to never betray it.

  Miss Kendrick pulled the girl in front of her and rested her hands on her shoulders. “There was a mistake. Our sister didn’t die. She is here now. Gracie, I would like to introduce you to Helena, Lady Prestwick.”

  She tilted her head back to look up at Miss Kendrick. “Should I curtsy like I do with Lord St. Ambrose?”

  Helena swiped a tear as it fell on her cheek. “Heavens, no. I am your sister. No one curtsies to one’s sister.”

  The girl smiled. “I’m not very good at it anyway.”

  St. Ambrose came forward and ruffled her hair. “You do a very fine job of it, but your sister has a point. I don’t want you to curtsy to me either.”

  Her smile widened showing matching dimples. “But you aren’t my sister.”

  The marquess chuckled, the remaining tension melting from his posture. “Well, I’m family, so that should matter.”

  Miss Kendrick’s lips thinned. Apparently, she didn’t agree he was part of their family, but she didn’t contradict him.

  Edith tentatively peeked into the parlor. “I have that brandy for Lord Thorne, and I poured one for Lord St. Ambrose too.” She lifted two tumblers into the air as if presenting a peace offering.

  “Thank you, Edith,” St. Ambrose said. “I apologize for startling you earlier.”

  She ventured into the room, handed a glass to Sebastian then the marquess, and made a quick exit.

  “You are supposed to be in bed,” Miss Kendrick said to Gracie. Her chide was gentle and she made no move to send her away despite her words.

  “I was in bed until the noise woke me. I want to visit with Helena.”

  Miss Kendrick kissed the top of her head. “I’m sure she would like that.”

  The girl grabbed Helena’s hand and urged her to the sofa. Sebastian hung back to allow them time without him getting in the way.

  Miss Kendrick gestured to St. Ambrose. “May I speak with you in the foyer, my lord?”

  He followed her and mumbled an apology to Sebastian as he passed.

  “I sent you a message,” Miss Kendrick hissed as soon as they cleared the doorway. “Why are you here?”

  “You never ask me to stay away. I was concerned something might be wrong with Gracie or Edith. I thought you might need a doctor.”

  She sighed. “Gus, when are you going to ac
cept I’m capable of taking care of my family?”

  “But you don’t have to anymore. I want to take care of you. I have asked you—”

  “Stop. I refuse to have this conversation now.”

  Sebastian felt a measure of pity for the man. He couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be to want to care for someone who wouldn’t allow it. He eased away from the door in an attempt to provide the marquess and Miss Kendrick privacy, but he couldn’t escape overhearing them.

  “You cannot tell anyone about Helena. If anyone knows she was here…”

  “Lavinia, you know me better than that. I would never do anything to hurt you or your family. I love you.”

  There was a long pause. Sebastian pretended interest in a nearby painting, expecting the couple to return and not wanting them to realize he was privy to their conversation.

  “I know you would never hurt us, my love. You are the kindest man I have ever known.” Miss Kendrick’s voice assumed a teasing tone. “Although your kindness doesn’t extend to side tables andtea services.”

  They laughed softly together.

  “I will send replacements tomorrow. Forgive me for behaving like an animal this evening, but the thought of you with another man…”

  “I would never. I swear it upon my mother’s grave. You must know I love you too, August.”

  Sebastian’s cravat had become too tight and he tugged to loosen it. Over the last day, he had come to acknowledge his love for Helena, but until he overheard St. Ambrose and Miss Kendrick speaking of their problems, Sebastian had not realized loving another person did not guarantee a happy outcome. Helena had made it clear she was content living as an independent woman, which did not bode well for a future together. Dizziness drove him to join her and her youngest sister around the low table.

  Too many sensations swirled inside him—in his head, gut, and chest. He sipped his brandy, preferring to observe rather than participate in their conversation as he tried to sort the unfamiliar feelings.