But to the one man she’d always longed to impress, she could not manage to behave as anything other than David Eston’s troublesome little sister. She was sure that it was only out of loyalty to his friend and family that Adrian had been willing to saddle himself with such a dull and graceless creature.
Before her, her own image dissolved as the coachman opened the door and put down the step for her, holding an umbrella over her head as he rushed her to the door, knocking for her.
The door opened and her husband’s butler greeted her with an open mouth and a breathless, ‘My Lady Folbroke.’
‘No need to announce me, Abbott. If you can find someone to take my cloak, I will make myself comfortable in the salon.’
When no footman appeared to help her, she untied the neck and stepped forwards out of the garment, letting it drop from her shoulders.
Abbott reached forwards, hurrying to catch it before it struck the floor. ‘Of course, my lady. But my Lord Folbroke—’
‘Is not expecting me,’ she finished for him.
At the end of the hallway, her husband’s secretary appeared, took one look at her, and then glanced behind him as though he wished, like a rabbit meeting a fox, to dart back under cover.
‘Hello, Hendricks.’ She smiled in a way that was both warm and firm, and pushed past the butler, bearing down on him.
‘Lady Folbroke.’ Hendricks looked quietly horrified to see her and repeated, ‘You were not expected.’
‘Of course not, Hendricks. Had he expected me, my darling Adrian would have been shooting in Scotland. Or on the Continent. Anywhere but sharing London with me.’ She tried a light laugh to show how unimportant it was to her, and failed dismally. She ignored the strange, sharp feeling in her stomach and the ache in her heart that came from knowing she was not really wanted.
The secretary had the courtesy to look shamed by it, but made no effort to deny what she had said.
‘I suppose it is too much to hope that he is here at the moment.’
‘No, my lady. He is out.’
‘That is the same story you give to his cousin Rupert, who has been tormenting me endlessly on the subject of Adrian’s whereabouts. I have had enough of it, Hendricks.’ She stopped to breathe, for while her tone had sufficient volume, she did not want it creeping into shrillness. Then she continued. ‘My husband must accept that, if he cannot deal with his heir, he will have to deal with me. It is unfair of him to avoid us both. And while I am quite willing to shoulder the responsibility of land, tenants, crops and several hundred-odd sheep while Adrian gallivants about the city, the added burden of Rupert is simply too much, Hendricks. It is the last straw to this camel.’
‘I see, Lady Folbroke.’ Hendricks had replaced his hunted look with an expression of neutral courtesy, as though he hoped that his silence would still her questions.
‘My husband is still in the city?’ She gave the man a critical look.
He squirmed and nodded.
She nodded in reply. ‘And how long might it be until he returns here?’
The secretary gave a helpless shrug.
‘Honesty, Hendricks. You know more than you are saying, I am sure. All I require of you is a simple answer. I intend to wait as long as is needed, in either case. But it would be nice to know if I should request a light meal, or send for my trunks and prepare for an extended stay.’
‘I do not know, Lady Folbroke.’ There was a kind of hopelessness in the statement that made her almost believe the man.
‘Surely he must tell you his plans when he goes out.’
‘When he bothers to make them,’ the secretary said, revealing a bitterness that smacked of honesty.
‘If he sets an agenda, he rarely keeps to it. Sometimes he is gone for hours. And other times days.’
‘Then he must be letting rooms elsewhere.’
‘This may be true. But I do not know where, for I have never visited them. And when he returns?’ Hendricks shook his head, clearly worried.
‘I suppose he is foxed.’ She gave a disgusted sigh. It was no less than she feared about him, but the confirmation did nothing to improve her mood.
‘If that were all. He is …’ Hendricks struggled to find a phrase that would not give up a confidence. ‘Not well. Unhealthy, my lady. I doubt he eats. Or sleeps. When he can bring himself to come home after one of these excursions, he collapses for days at a time. I fear he will do himself an injury through self-neglect.’
‘His father was around the same age when he lost his life, was he not?’
‘Yes, my lady. A riding accident.’
It was gently put, as was everything Hendricks said. The man was a master of understatement. But she remembered the circumstances quite well, for the severity of the last earl’s injuries had been the talk of the neighbourhood. Adrian’s father had been the worse for drink, and riding hell for leather through the woods, taking jumps that other men would not have risked while sane and sober. The fall had killed both man and horse in a way that was neither quick nor painless.
Her brother had said nothing of his friend’s reaction when the accident had occurred. But she could remember clearly the solemn darkness of the young man on the neighbouring estate, and the way it had both frightened and intrigued her. ‘Perhaps it preys upon his mind. And all the more reason that I should be here to put a stop to it.’
The secretary looked both doubtful and hopeful, as though he could not decide where his loyalty might lie.
‘Summon the coachman who took him when he departed, so that we might learn his destination. If we can find his normal haunts, then I will search them until I find him.’
‘You cannot,’ Hendricks leaned forwards, and she knew the situation must be serious for the taciturn man was clearly alarmed.
‘I mean to do it, all the same.’
The man stared into her eyes, as though to gauge the strength of her resolve. Then he sighed. ‘I will accompany you.’
‘That is hardly necessary.’
Hendricks squared his shoulders, doing his best to look formidable. ‘I am sorry, Lady Folbroke, but I must insist. If you mean to continue on this unadvisable course of action, than I cannot leave you to do it alone.’
‘And who gives you the right to question me?’
‘Lord Folbroke himself. He has been quite clear to me in his instructions, with regards to you. I am to assist you in all things, trust your judgement and obey you as I would him. But first and foremost, he trusts me to keep you from harm.’
The sentiment brought her up short. After a year of silence on his part, it had never occurred to her that her husband thought of her at all. And certainly not for a sufficiently protracted time as to concern himself with her safety. ‘He worries about me?’
‘Of course, my lady. He asks after you each time I return from Derbyshire. Normally, I assure him there is no reason to be concerned. But in this case?’ He shook his head.
Emily dismissed the momentary feeling of warmth at the picture of Adrian asking about her. ‘If my welfare is his foremost desire, perhaps he could have seen fit to share it with me. Or he could make an effort to stay out of low haunts himself. Then it would not be necessary for me to seek him in a place he did not want me to go.’
Hendricks was frowning at the twisted logic of her statement, trying to find a rebuttal, so she allowed him no more time. She turned to the butler. ‘Abbott, have the carriage brought around. Mr Hendricks and I will be going out. We will be returning with Lord Folbroke.’
She glared at Hendricks. ‘Whether he likes it or not.’
‘You are sure this is the place?’ The building before her gave every indication of being just what it was: a villainous hole that was well below the genteel debauchery she’d expected.
‘Yes, my lady,’ Hendricks said, with a grim smile. ‘Of late, the servants bring him here. He finds his own way home.’
She sighed. There was a sign swinging above the battered door that appeared to be a woman of limited virtue, and even more limi
ted clothing. ‘What is it called, then?’
‘The Whore’s Left …’ Hendricks coughed as though he could not bring himself to finish the name.
‘Is it a brothel?’ She peered out the window at the grimy glass panes in front of her, trying not to show the curiosity she felt.
‘No, my lady. A public house.’
‘I see.’ It was nothing like the rather conservative inn in their village. But things were very different in London, she was sure. ‘Very well, then. Wait in the carriage.’
‘I most certainly will not.’ It was a moment before the secretary realised how completely he’d overstepped his bounds in his effort to protect her. Then he said more softly, ‘I have been through doors like that one, and seen the clientele inside. It is a dangerous place for Lord Folbroke and even more so for a woman alone.’
‘I do not mean to be there long enough to experience risk. If he is there, he will think the same as you, and though he might choose the place for his own entertainment, he will be forced to escort me out of it. But I do not mean to leave without him.’ She set her chin in the way she did, to let the Derbyshire servants know that she was brooking no more nonsense, and saw the secretary weaken before her.
‘If you find him, he might not be willing to go.’ Again there was a delicate pause as he searched for a way around her orders. ‘You might need my help.’
It was perfectly true. She had no reason to believe that her husband would listen to her entreaties, if he would not answer her correspondence. ‘Would you remove him by force, if needed?’
Hendricks paused again. To take her side when in the presence of her husband would seem close to mutiny. He had been Adrian’s aide-de-camp in the army, and had the fierce loyalty of a soldier to a superior officer to match his dedication to a friend and employer. But then he said, as though the confession was a thing he did not want to share, ‘If the instruction came from you, and it was meant for his own good, I would do it. There are reasons for his aberrant behaviour, which you will understand soon enough. But if he is no longer able to act in his own best interests, then someone must do it for him.’
Emily touched Hendricks’s shoulder to reassure him. ‘Do not fear for your position. I promise you will come to no harm for doing what is right. But we must be agreed on this before we begin. I will ask him to come. And if he does not, you must help me remove him.’
‘Very well.’ He nodded. ‘Let us do the thing quickly, now that we are decided. The situation cannot stand as it does much longer.’
They walked through the door together, Hendricks close at her shoulder. And Emily stepped back into him as she took in the room before her. The sound of drunkenness hit her first: laughing, fighting and ribald song. And then the smell—urine and vomit added to the smoke from a blocked chimney and burned meat to make the room even more unpleasant. She had expected to find Adrian in some normal gaming hell where the play was deep and the women were not ladies. Or perhaps a whorehouse where the play was of a different sort entirely. But she had assumed it would be the sort of place where lords went, when they sought to amuse themselves outside polite society.
There was no sign of even the lowest members of their set in evidence. This was a rough place full of even rougher men who had come to enjoy their vices with no care for the law of God or man.
Hendricks put his hand on her shoulder. ‘We will take a table in the corner, out of the way of this mob. And I will enquire after him for you.’ He led her to the corner, and a barmaid brought two mugs to the table with a sneer on her face. Emily glanced into hers to see that it was already filled. She smelled juniper.
Hastings placed a hand over her glass. ‘The strength of the gin will not make up for the dirtiness of the glass.’ He tossed a coin on the table. As the barmaid reached for it, he caught her by the wrist. ‘The Earl of Folbroke. Do you know him? Is he here?’ The girl shook her head, but he did not release her. ‘Do you know an Adrian Longesley?’
‘Addy?’ She gave a single nod, and he let go of her arm, but his action had drawn the eyes of others.
The men who rose from the nearest table were hulking brutes, looking for any reason to fight. ‘Here now, stranger. You have a dollymop of your own, do you not?’ The one who spoke gave Emily a toothless leer.
‘Aye,’ said another. ‘If you wish to share our Molly, then you must share as well.’ Behind her, a man leaned close, and she inched her chair away.
‘Now, see here.’ Hendricks’s gaze was steely, and his shoulders broad. Though she thought him timid when compared to Adrian, he had been a captain in the army, and she had no doubt that he would defend her honour to the best of his considerable abilities. But with so many against him, she doubted that his strength would do them much good.
And as she feared, when Hendricks started to rise, a fist to his jaw knocked him back into the chair.
She gave a little shriek of alarm as one of the men crowding the table reached for her. This had been a dreadful mistake. The place was horrible, the men were horrible, and what was likely to happen now would be the fault of her own stupidity. Even if her husband was here, she doubted she wanted to see him. If he were part of the crowd around her, he was most likely beyond redemption.
And then, as she gave another cry of alarm, a hand reached out through the press of bodies around her chair, seized her by the arm and pulled her forwards until she was crushed against the body of her rescuer.
Chapter Three
‘Can’t you see that she does not wish your company?’ A silver-headed cane shot out, rapping one man upon the head and another across the knuckles. The men who were struck gave sharp cries of pain, and grumbled as their fellows laughed at their distress.
Emily wrapped her arms about the waist of the man who held her to keep from swooning with relief. She recognised the voice of her husband, and was more gratified to be close to him than she had been at any time since the day of their marriage.
‘And you think she wants you instead?’ a man called. There was a chorus of laughter from around the room.
‘How can she not?’ Adrian called back. ‘I am the only gentleman amongst you.’
More laughter in response.
‘And she is clearly a lady of discerning taste, if she has the sense enough to reject you.’
There was yet more laughter to this, and she could not decide if it was directed to Adrian, or to the fact that she had been called a lady.
There was a pause, as she wondered if he meant to answer the insults to her with anything more than jests. Then he turned her to face him.
He had changed, of course, but not so much that she could not recognise him. His coat was of good quality, but ragged and dirty. His neckcloth was stained and his dark brown hair needed combing. But he still had shockingly blue eyes, though they gave her little more than a sidelong glance. And there was the roguish smile that he shared with other women more often than he did with her. His body was just as strong and solid as it had ever been, so muscular that she felt dwarfed against him as he held her close. Frightened of being crushed, and yet still protected.
She could feel her nerve failing now that he was close, and the growing desire to sink into him, soaking in the warmth of his body as though immersed in the bath. What was around them did not matter. She was with Adrian. She would be all right.
And then he kissed her. On the mouth.
The suddenness of it shocked her. She had expected a distant greeting, and his customary slight frown, as though, even as he was saying hello, he was thinking of ways to say goodbye.
But he was kissing her. They were really kissing. And it was like nothing she had experienced before. He tasted of gin and tobacco, smelled of sweat, and his cheeks were rough with several days’ beard growth. It was a sensory onslaught: a strange combination of the pleasant and the unpleasant. Joyful. Abandoned. And wet.
His kisses of the past had been unmemorable. Reserved. Flavourless and without texture. And much as she had wanted to feel otherwise, sh
e had not liked them very much. He had been so careful to give no offence that he could not have enjoyed them either. Even in consummation, he had set himself apart from her, allowing no loss of self-control.
But today, in a crowded tavern, without asking her leave or showing a care to the men watching them, he devoured her mouth as he might a piece of late-summer fruit, giving a low hmmm of approval at the ripeness, the juiciness. He clutched her bottom through her skirts, and eased a leg between her parting thighs, giving her a small bounce there, to make sure that he had shaken her to the core.
And for a moment she forgot her anger with him and her fear. All the feelings of hurt and betrayal disappeared, along with the shyness she felt when she was with him. After all this time, he had decided he loved her. He wanted her. And if she could have him back, just like this, everything would be all right.
Then he pulled away and whispered in her ear, ‘Here now, love. Nothing to be frightened of. Let us leave these brigands behind. Come and sit on my lap.’
‘I beg your pardon.’ The happy thoughts froze in her head, and cold logic returned to its proper place. The request was odd, and delivered in a way that showed a strange lack of feeling for his friend and servant, Hendricks, struggling back to consciousness in the chair in front of him.
Adrian gave her another small hug and a quick kiss on the lips to coax her. ‘You may help me with my cards tonight. There will be a shiny sovereign for you, if you are good.’ He said it as if he were talking to a stranger. There was no trace of recognition in that voice. No hint that this was to be a shared joke, or a lark or that he was trying to protect her from the ruffians by hiding her identity.
Was he honestly so drunk that he did not know her?
‘Help you with your cards?’ she said. The last haze of desire cleared from her mind. If he did not claim her as wife, then just who had he thought he’d been kissing? ‘I should think you could manage them without my help, just as you normally do, my lord.’
The censure in her voice did not seem to register. ‘You would be surprised, my dear.’ He was whispering in her ear. ‘It seems I need more help by the day.’ He kissed her on the side of the head, as though to confirm to the others that he was whispering endearments, and then said more loudly, ‘Since we are to be fast friends, you may call me Adrian.’ And then he pulled her away from the crowd, stumbling back towards a gaming table on the other side of the room.
Lady Folbroke's Delicious Deception Page 2
