"Very well, Your Grace, since I cherish the little freedom you allow me, I will live your lies for you, but I doubt that anyone will believe such a farce," she said.
"Just see that your performance is credible," Lynkellyn snapped, "and my name is Robin. Please contrive to remember it! Come! The horses are waiting."
The short trip to Hyde Park passed in stony silence. Warmer than usual for April, The sun caressed Lucia with its balmy rays and lifted her spirits, in spite of her companion and her predicament. It had been so long since she had ridden that she yearned to give her prancing white stallion his head, but, instead, she trotted sedately beside her husband into the park.
"Nous somme amoureux!" Robin said, his voice crisp and cold. "Talk to me! Flirt! Laugh!"
He turned to her with an adoring smile that did not quite reach his steely eyes and waited expectantly.
"I -- what shall I -- speak of?" Lucia asked, flustered.
Robin gave a slight shrug as they joined the fashionable throng which slowly circled the park. "Do you read?"
"Oh, yes. When I open a book, I forget -- everything."
"Novels, I suppose?" He skillfully maneuvered his horse past two carriages which blocked the road while their occupants conversed.
"I enjoy novels, but I also like poetry, history, and philosophy. My parents were very liberal in my formal education when they could afford to provide any at all. I fear I am something of a bluestocking. Only proper, I suppose, for a governess."
"You will never hold such a position again. As the Duchess of Lynkellyn, you will soon have a family of your own to raise," Amberley said. Lucia's mouth tightened and her eyes flashed. "Smile, ma chérie!" he grinned. "Je t'adore, héin? How did you ever manage to keep a servile schoolroom tongue in your head with a temper like yours?"
"I have had to swallow a great deal of anger and pride over the years."
"And to escape into a great many books?"
"I had free access to Lord Saddewythe's library. I was the only one who ever went there and some of the books had not been off the shelf in years." Her anger momentarily forgotten, she smiled saucily up at him from beneath long, black lashes, her eyes sparkling like sunlight on water. "I especially enjoyed reading Aristophanes. 'Lysistrata' is my favorite play."
An answering gleam lit Robin's eyes. "You've had a liberal education, indeed, little minx!" he grinned. They looked at each other and broke into laughter. The emotional tension of the past few hours dissipated and an unspoken truce sprang up between them.
Their conversation wandered freely from literature to art to their travels and touched at last upon the duello. "The pistol has always been my weapon," Lucia confessed. "When crossing swords, I sometimes run out of stamina before my opponent, but with a pistol, I am a crack shot." She wrinkled her nose, frowning. "At least, I used to be. It has been more than four years since I pulled a trigger."
"I will enjoy testing your metal," Robin smiled. "At the castle, we shall have room to pursue both swordplay and target practice. I daresay the servants will be quite shocked to see Their Graces have at each other with rapiers in the Long Gallery!"
Polite London swirled about the oblivious couple in all its disapproving hauteur. Some people turned pointedly away from them as they passed. Others gaped in open curiosity at the notorious profligate duke and his abducted duchess. Acid tongues flung insults at their backs. They did not notice until Lucia heard a familiar voice from a passing landau.
"So that is the Duchess of Lynkellyn!" A rotund lady in an orange turban said to her companion in the coach. "When I took her in as befitted my Christian duty, she was nothing! A ragged little hoyden without a shred of reputation or a farthing to her name! I lavished every luxury upon her and how did she repay me? The worthless jade cast immodest lures at Laddon! I was never so shocked in my life! But, being the charitable Christian woman that I am, I found her a position with Lady Saddewythe instead of turning her out into the street as she deserved. Well, 'tis obvious the brazen baggage served poor Winifred no better than she served me!" As the carriage rolled on, the woman glanced back with a malevolent smirk.
Lucia sat stone still in the saddle, all color drained from her face. Her grip on her reins tightened and her horse halted. Amberley stopped beside her.
"Lucia..."
"That was Lady Laddon, my aunt." Her voice hardly rose above a whisper. "Truly, Robin, I never tried to attract Lord Laddon. I avoided him when I could, but he -- he kept pursuing me, cornering me, until I had to go somewhere else or risk -- " Her words trailed away as a blush suffused her cheeks.
"She is just a sharp-tongued, old harpy, ma chérie. Pay her no heed," Robin said, covering her hand with his.
"She is my family, Robin. Save for my parents, she is the only person who ever helped me or cared about me and now," Lucia's eyes darkened with anguish. "Now she despises me."
"I daresay she always despised you, ma chérie! I know I sound cruel, but the only reason such a woman would take in a poor relation would be in the expectation of securing an unpaid servant. Admit that you were little more than a slave in her house."
"She did me a kindness. She gave me a home when no one else would. She merely asked me to earn my keep."
"From well before sunrise until after midnight, I'll wager, and in every capacity from governess to scullery maid."
"She is my family," Lucia insisted with a sad shake of her head.
"I am your family now, Lucia," Robin said, bringing her fingers to his lips. "Let us rely on each other."
She pulled her hand away, an angry flush flooding her cheeks. "You are not my family, Your Grace. You are my gaoler!"
Robin drew away. Pain flickered in his eyes and was swiftly veiled. "If you will have it so." He urged his horse forward. Lucia brought her mount alongside his and they continued their trek through the park in silence.
Without the distraction of conversation, the insults of passersby leaped out at them. Weary of hatred and rejection, Robin thought wistfully of his beloved Paris. A gallop through the Bois de Boulogne amongst laughing, joking friends would do much to soothe his frayed spirits. He shrugged. No one said claiming his legacy was going to be pleasant, he reminded himself.
"Gustav! Gustav!" A grinning man astride a frisky chestnut bore down on the duke, three reluctant companions in tow. Robin reined in his horse, Lucia at his side. As he watched the party advance, he saw shocked disapproval in the eyes of the man's friends.
The gentleman halted before Amberley, an eager smile on his face. "Gustav Mohlenbruck! By all that's holy! Surely you remember me! Captain Anthony Bellefield! Only I'm Lord Anthony now! What the devil are you doing in London, old man? I -- " As he looked into Lynkellyn's cold, haughty features, his words died on his lips.
"I fear you have mistaken me for someone else, sir," his grace said icily, his perfectly modulated tones contrasting sharply with the broken and thickly accented German-English Lord Bellefield remembered Mohlenbruck to have spoken.
In this rebuff, Bellefield's friends recognized the escape from scandal that Robin was offering and pounced upon it. "Come on, old fellow! All a mistake!" One of his companions touched Bellefield's arm. Bellefield looked into the pleading eyes of his friends and then turned back to meet Amberley's indifferent gaze. After a minute's hard scrutiny, Bellefield tipped his hat, saying, "I apologize for my intrusion, sir. You closely resemble a man I knew while serving in the American colonies?" He allowed his voice to trail into inquiry, his eyes narrowing.
"I have never been there," Amberley lied smoothly.
"I trust you will forgive my error, sir." Lord Bellefield lifted his hat, wished Lynkellyn a good day, and rode away with his friends.
Robin watched the gentlemen disappear, hearing something of the hastily whispered gossip Bellefield's companions were only too eager to provide him. The duke urged his mount forward, his heart heavy and his face grim.
Lucia reined in beside him. "He was a friend from your past."
"Yes!
I was a fur trapper in Virginia when I met him. We fought Frenchmen and Red Indians together. He was a close friend and I'll not let him ruin himself by acknowledging my acquaintance." Robin's shoulders sagged. "Let us return home. I've had my fill of the park and the ton for one day."
At dinner that evening, Georges announced that he was sailing for France on the morrow.
"This is sudden, Georges," Robin said.
"I miss Paris, mon ami, and now that I've helped you settle your affairs, the criminal life no longer appeals to me. Perhaps I'll go home and find myself a wife, in a more orthodox manner, naturellement." Georges sipped his wine, a hint of laughter in his eyes.
"Not planning to turn respectable, are you, Georges?" Lynkellyn grinned.
"And why shouldn't my aspirations match yours, Your Grace? By next year, you will have turned from a sow's ear into a silk purse, héin? I still want to be worthy of your regard!"
Robin laughed and raised his wine goblet in salute. "This sow's ear will always cherish your friendship, mon ami. You must return to visit us whenever the fancy strikes you."
Lucia rose from the table. "Yes! You must come back to stay with us. We will be quite dull with just each other for company, I fear." Curtsying, she left the gentlemen to their port.
When she had gone, Robin filled Georges's glass. "I shall miss you dreadfully, mon vieux."
"You shall have ma belle cousine!"
"Mais oui. She is your cousin, isn't she?" Robin's voice dripped with suspicion. "What the devil do you intend by offering to hide Lucia from me on one of your estates? I thought you were with me in this venture."
De Valiére was silent for a moment. "Her family -- my family -- has abandoned her. She is not happy, mon ami, and I wanted to help her a little. You must promise me that you will treat ma petite well, Robin. She needs something good to happen in her life."
"What's this? No denials! No excuses! Georges, you surprise me!"
"I am not going to defend my actions to you, Robin. Offering my cousin sanctuary is the only decent thing I've done, regarding her future. I want to befriend you, mon ami, but she is a member of my family and I must also do what is best for her. Ce dilemme est enrageant!" Georges shook his head. "I shall end in -- how do you call the place -- mais, oui! Bedlam!"
Amberley decided to let the matter drop. "Marriage with your cousin is like to drive me into Bedlam as well," he muttered darkly as he swirled the port in his goblet.
"Problems, mon ami?"
"She fights me at every turn! She is the most stubborn, willful, exasperating woman I have ever met. She will not be ruled at all and she feels not a dash of good will toward me!"
"Are you surprised?" Georges raised a brow.
"No, I suppose not," Robin said. "I had hoped, though, that we'd have at least a semblance of friendship by now. We've had ten days to achieve a truce."
"As long as you treat her like a prisoner of war, Robin, you will be at odds with her."
"Meaning I should trust her not to bolt," Amberley concluded. "I can't afford the risk."
"I believe you will have to take it. If she truly intends to escape, she will, unless you literally lock her up. Such a course would not look good, héin? What's more, I would be compelled as her kinsman to do more on her behalf than merely offer sanctuary."
Robin met Georges's eyes. "A threat, mon ami?"
"I am concerned for ma petite," he shrugged. "Your temper is legendary, Robin. I'll not have Lucia feel the full brunt of it."
"I won't hurt her, Georges, but I won't provide her with an easy opportunity to flee, either. That would spell disaster for me. It isn't just escape that worries me, though. What of other men?"
"Other men?" Georges's jaw dropped. "You've only been married ten days!"
"Yes, I know, but once Lucia tastes freedom, she might take a fancy to someone and I've no desire to be cuckolded. If you could have seen the way those so-called 'gentlemen' in the park leered at her today, you would understand." Robin's frown deepened. "That cur, Mountheathe, has already pawed her and I'll wager others will follow him if I don't protect what's mine."
"Mon Dieu! You don't think she'd really be unfaithful?"
"Why shouldn't she? There's precious little affection between us. She might do it merely to spite me."
"Do you intend to be un mari fidèle yourself, mon ami?"
Robin shrugged. "I don't know, Georges. I can't stop thinking about Lucia and our situation. I've hardly noticed any other women since our wedding."
"Then your marriage is not a lost cause, mon ami. Woo her and win her! But, above all, try to trust her a little. That is my advice to you."
Amberley shook his head, smiling. "A courtship would be rather hypocritical at this late date, Georges."
"Perhaps! But it couldn't hurt!" the Frenchman said.
Robin laughed. "You are an eternal optimist, mon cher!"
Chapter 10:
In Which Their Graces Lose a House Guest and Receive Callers
The next morning, Robin and Lucia said goodbye to the Marquis de Valiére. Georges kissed Lucia's cheek, promising to advance her cause with their family. As the gentlemen walked to the waiting carriage, Georges again adjured Robin to be gentle and understanding with his bride. The two men clasped hands and, French to the last, hugged each other farewell.
After Georges was gone, Robin buried himself with his estate ledgers in the library and Lucia threw herself into setting Lynkellyn House in order. During the day, they saw each other only at meals, formal affairs eaten in a strained silence at opposite ends of a long dining table.
After dinner, Robin returned to his accounts, leaving Lucia to a lonely evening by the fire with a book or a deck of cards. She occasionally sought his companionship, but his face and demeanor were always icily unapproachable, his voice cruel and cutting. She retreated in pain and confusion every time.
Nevertheless, he came to her bedchamber each night to make love to her and stayed until dawn. Lucia's hungry heart began to relish his visits to the warm darkness of her room and to yearn at noon for the fire and joy they shared at midnight.
***
A sennight after Georges's departure, the Earl of Malkent faced his countess across the breakfast table, open-mouthed. "You intend to do what, Valeria?"
"Pay a morning call on the Duchess of Lynkellyn today," her ladyship said. "After all, she is a member of your family."
"Only because my second cousin insisted on marrying into Laddon's clan. A more vulgar set than the Laddons I've never met!"
"Nevertheless, I am going to call upon Her Grace. She cannot be any worse than Lavinia Laddon, surely."
"But -- but," Malkent spluttered, "How will it look, Valeria? And what about the Rogue? What if he should try to -- to -- " Tracy was at a loss for words.
"What could he do in broad daylight with his wife present, Tracy? And besides, it has been ten years. His ardor for me must have cooled by now. Why else would he have married this girl?"
Tracy gazed across the table at his beloved. A decade and four children had come to pass since his wedding day, yet he found Valeria as bewitching as ever. His teeth clenched in fury as he envisioned that beast assaulting her as she lay helpless. "Amberley abducted that woman and forced her to the altar in order to get his hands on Giles's legacy. He is the same animal he always was! If you will not accept my word, ask Mountheathe. He says the man has already run through eighty thousand pounds! Wastrel!"
"Well, if that is, indeed, true, then I'm certain the new duchess could use a friend in London. I pity her, married to such a man, and I want to help her. Is that so wrong?"
"No, Valeria, but suppose the Rogue manages to get you alone and tries to-to..."
"To what? To seduce me? To ravish me? Why, I shall scream and every servant in the house will come to see what is happening. He will be mortified!"
"Nevertheless, I wish you would not go!"
"Oh, my love! I hate to see that poor girl suffer for her husband's sins. Perhaps if
I befriend her, she won't feel so lost and frightened here in London. I can't hold a grudge forever and I want to do this! I'm going to do it!"
Tracy sighed. "Very well, Val, but don't expect me to support your efforts. I should have prosecuted that viper before he had a chance to slither to the Continent. I'm certainly not going to grant him any more favors."
In another breakfast parlor some distance away in Mount Street, Lady Amaryllis Blayne and her lord were engaged in a similar discussion on the same topic. "But Ryl, you can't be serious, love! The man's a..."
"The man is my cousin, William," Ryl reminded him coldly.
"Come now, dearest. The whole world knows what he tried to do to Valeria! How can you even think of acknowledging him?"
"I know what Giles convinced everyone Robin tried to do, but Robin denied it and kept denying it until the day he left England. I, for one, choose to believe him. I will always stand his friend."
"You are the only one who believes him, then. Thank the Lord that the rest of Society is not so gullible."
Lady Ryl's brows rose, her teacup clattering in its saucer. "I am not gullible! Really, William! How can you insult me so?" A large tear coursed down her soft pink and white cheek.
"But, my love," Sir William reasoned, "suppose you are wrong. Suppose-suppose he -- acts dishonorably -- toward you!"
"Robin is like a brother to me. He would never behave in such a manner!"
"People change, Ryl. The Lord only knows what Amberley's life has been like during the past ten years. This bride of his, for instance! The talk is that he abducted her! Held up a coach in Epping Forest and carried her off tied to his horse! Some poor, terrified, little governess, Ryl! And he only married her so he could lay claim to Mountheathe's legacy from the late duke. Are these the actions of a man you would want to call 'brother'?"
Her chin rose defiantly. "I don't believe a word of it! Robin told me once that he intended to marry for love and love alone. He has obviously fallen in love with a girl who is beneath his station. She might welcome a friend to show her how to get on in Town. The poor little creature must be quaking with terror at her sudden change in circumstance."
The Rogue's Revenge Page 12
