***
When Robin left his cards, he searched in vain for Lucia among the throng of guests in the ballroom, fighting hard to stem a rising tide of panic. She must have bolted, he concluded furiously, or perhaps Giles -- but Mountheathe was in a corner, engaged in intense conversation with a mocking and supercilious Clarissa.
Amberley found Norworth in the supper room, laughing with Miss Lannington as he filled her plate. Robin limped up to him. "Where's my wife, Norworth?" he demanded, ignoring Concordia.
"I haven't the slightest idea, Your Grace. I've not seen her since we returned from the garden." Peter's smile was open and friendly in distinct contrast to Amberley's dark scowl. "I believe she said something about talking to Lady Saddewythe."
With a swift bow, Robin hobbled away to find Lady Saddewythe. When he questioned her, Winifred, pale and nervous, told him that she left Lucia by the garden doors. Robin rushed into the garden, the duchess's moonlight stroll with Norworth still rankling.
***
"Imagine my delight at seeing you after all these years, Lucia, my dear girl! And at a fancy London ball of all places!"
Lucia shuddered at the horrifyingly familiar voice as long, bony fingers jabbed into her shoulders and spun her around. "G- Gaston!" Her eyes bulged as she stared into Sir Winston Rochedale's sneering face. Fear crawled into the pit of her stomach and began to gnaw.
"And I understand that I am to call you 'Your Grace'! Congratulations are in order, dear girl!" Sir Winston ran his fingers along the silky neckline of her ballgown appraisingly. "You've done well for yourself."
She slapped his hand down angrily and started to walk away. "Come back, Lucia, my dear!" he called after her. "We have business to discuss." She took another step. "I wonder what your highborn husband would say if I told him your maidenhead was offered for sale in the streets of Copenhagen." Lucia halted, whirling on her heel to stare at him in the moonlit shadows. "Of course, I am very adept at keeping secrets," Sir Winston studied his fingernails and smiled, "for a price."
"It's to be blackmail, Gaston? When you know I was but your victim?"
"It's your word against mine, dear girl. Is your blue-blooded old goat bedazzled enough to accept your word over that of a concerned good Samaritan?" He sauntered over to her and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. "If he should turn you out, dear girl, I'll gladly take you in harness. You've grown into a damned fine piece. Men will bury me in gold for a chance to lift your skirts."
Fury burning in Lucia's eyes, she raised her hand to strike him. He grabbed her wrist, twisting her arm behind her. The sleeve of her gown ripped loudly as her body followed in a natural movement so that her back rested against his chest. His other arm banded her waist with the strength of steel. She struggled, gasped at the resulting pain, and was still. "You're hurting me, Gaston!" she whimpered.
"Just a reminder, dear girl, of the good times we shared in our little love-nest in Copenhagen." Rochedale's voice, close to her ear, had lost its casual drawl to become vital and vicious. "I still possess my passion for pain, Lucia, and I'd love to find out how much it takes to break that spirit of yours." He jerked upward on her arm until her shoulder was in agony.
With a sob, she cried, "How much do you want?"
"How kind of you to offer, dear girl." He twisted her arm again, laughing when she screamed. "How much do you suppose you can get from your besotted old fool of a husband without making him suspicious?"
"He-he doesn't give me any money, Gaston! It's the truth! I swear it!" Lucia flailed at him with her free hand. "Please, Gaston! Please let me go!"
"I, too, must demand that you unhand the lady, Tarney." Robin's crisp, cold voice interrupted their struggles. He stood before them, leaning on his cane.
"This is none of your affair, Gus," Sir Winston sneered. "The 'lady' and I have business."
"Any business you have with her, you have with me!" Robin limped toward the pair.
"Be gone with you, Gus. This little gold mine belongs to me. You have no call to interfere. Who the devil do you think you are?" Rochedale's face had reddened with anger.
"Why, Tarney! I am Her Grace's besotted old fool of a husband," Robin grinned, "and I don't pay blackmail."
Sir Winston released Lucia to stare, dumbfounded, at Robin. "You! Well, if this ain't an unholy alliance! Golden Gus and Lucia Lightfingers!" Rochedale threw his head back and laughed.
Robin offered his arm to Lucia. "May I escort you inside, ma chérie? There is a malodorous stench in the air." Rubbing her aching shoulder, Lucia smiled gratefully and placed a cold, trembling hand on his arm. They strolled back to the ballroom, Robin's cane rapping rhythmically on the flagstones.
After they entered the ballroom, Lucia excused herself to find the ladies' retiring room and a maid to repair her gown. While the girl sewed, Lucia endeavored to throw off the terror her unexpected meeting with Gaston La Belette had spawned. His presence in London, in England, even, sickened her. She had no place to run; no place to hide. She would have to trust Robin to protect her from Gaston and that was rather like trusting the wolf to save the chickens from the fox.
When she returned to the ballroom, she went into supper on Robin's arm, then stood up for a few more dances beneath his wintry scrutiny, but all her pleasure in Ryl's party had fled. She could feel Gaston's eyes following her. She searched the crowd as she danced, afraid that he was stalking her. What if he grabbed her? Tortured her? Enslaved her? She would kill herself rather than repeat the nightmare of Copenhagen. She would never ever be Gaston's victim again!
Time dragged. As the guests of honor, their graces felt bound to remain at Blayne House until the last revelers had departed. They finally took leave of the Blaynes in the early hours of the morning.
On the ride home, Lady Easterbury dozed off in one corner of the carriage. His injured leg propped on her seat, Robin sat across from Lucia, glaring at her. Shrugging, she stared out her window without surprise, wishing she knew what grievous offense she had committed this time.
Fury had been Robin's natural state all evening. Although her behavior could not have been more circumspect, he had glowered at her whenever she left his side. Was he so afraid she would betray him?
When they entered Lynkellyn House, Laddock took their wraps and Lady Easterbury announced that she was for her bed. Dismissing the butler for what was left of the night, Lucia lit Robin's path upstairs to their bedchambers with a burning candle. When they reached his door, he said abruptly, "Knock on the communicating door, s'il vous plâit, when you have dismissed your maid. We have a great deal to discuss."
"Tonight? But I'm exhausted, Robin! Can't it wait until morning?"
"Tonight!" he insisted, anger flashing in his eyes.
Twenty minutes later, Robin's gaze met Lucia's in her mirror as she brushed out her ebony tresses. He took the brush from her and ran it through her curls, his hands caressing their softness. At last he laid down the brush, saying, "I trust you enjoyed Ryl's party?"
"Oh, yes! Very much! And it was not nearly as awful as you feared it would be, was it?" She searched his face. "Did you enjoy yourself? You always seemed to be surrounded by people."
Robin shrugged. How could he explain the rage, uncertainty, and trepidation that had gripped him all evening? He didn't understand it himself.
His mouth tightened as he thought of the danger Lucia had been in with that cur, Tarney. He had warned her about that bastard. Why hadn't she listened?
"What in the devil's name possessed you to go strolling about with Tarney, Lucia? Tarney, of all people!"
Lucia swiveled around in her chair to fix him with an owlish stare. "Who?"
"Tarney! I mean Rochedale! Bah! I lose track of all the fellow's names!"
Confused for a minute, Lucia suddenly said, "Oh, you are speaking of Gaston! I am not stupid enough to 'stroll' with Gaston. He found me alone in the garden."
Robin's brows drew together. "Gaston?"
"Gaston La Belette. He was a frie
nd of my father's in Copenhagen, although Papa never saw his darker side. The man is evil incarnate!" She shuddered, her troubled eyes searching Robin's.
He looked exhausted and the color had drained from his face. She jumped to her feet. "You are in pain, Robin! You've been standing too long! Let me help you to a seat."
He protested weakly, then allowed her to support him to a divan in front of a cold fireplace. "So Rochedale, Tarney, LaBelette -- for the sake of simplification, let us call the blackguard Rochedale. So Rochedale knew you in Copenhagen?"
Lucia paced to a window to gaze at the bright full moon. "After my parents died, he offered to let me stay in his rooms until I found other lodgings. Gaston -- Rochedale had hardly seemed to notice me when he visited my father. The few times he had spoken to me, he had treated me like a child with never a hint of -- of warmth so I thought I would be safe with him."
She closed the curtains and sat next to Robin on the divan. "He-he tried to sell me -- sell my virtue," she confessed in an agonized whisper. Ashamed to look at Robin, she stared into the darkened hearth instead. "When I arrived at his home, he offered me a glass of claret. It was to keep my spirits up, he said. Naive, trusting young fool that I was, I drank. The wine was drugged and I fell almost instantly into a kind of twilight, aware of my surroundings, aware of what was happening to me, but too weak to do anything about it and too groggy to care. He locked me in a room for days, maybe weeks. For me, time stood still and I am uncertain how many days actually passed. He -- he hurt me, tortured me, taking perverse pleasure in my pain while he searched for a buyer for my virginity." Lucia blushed deeply. "He likes to -- cut -- people and -- and he has a particular fondness for whips." Trembling, she lowered her face into her hands and sobbed.
"You're safe now, ma chérie!" Robin whispered, folding her into his arms. "He shall never hurt you again!" Rocking her gently, he tilted her face up to wipe away the tears that trailed down her cheeks. "Obviously you bested the bastard, a commendable feat, as I have very good reason to know. May I ask how you did it, ma chérie?"
A slight smile broke through her tears. "One day, he was very excited when he came into the room where he kept me. I was lying on a day-bed in a drugged fog, just beginning to rise out of my stupor.
"He told me he had found a buyer; a man who wanted both my virtue and my person and was willing to pay generously for them. Slavery! The small part of me that could still feel was terrified.
"When he left to 'make arrangements', as he said, he was so eager for his blood money that he forgot to force the drug down me. He was gone all day and, by evening, my senses had returned. I felt weak, but able to move around. When I heard him fumbling at the door, humming that filthy song he is so fond of, I grabbed a fireplace poker and positioned myself by the door. I hit him on the head when he came in and he collapsed, unconscious.
"I searched his pockets and found a heavy bag of kroner; almost a thousand, I discovered later. The price of my honor, no doubt! Taking the money, I sailed on the first ship that would sell me passage out of Denmark. I never saw Gaston again, until this evening."
Silence. Lucia nestled in Robin's embrace, enjoying the warmth, savoring the security, however illusory, and listening to his heart beat comfortingly against her ear.
"And how do you come to know Rochedale?" she inquired at last.
"When I met him, I was Augustus O'Rourke, a native of Ireland. In a hurry to leave the American colonies, I signed aboard a privateer, no questions asked. They needed a navigator and I had the necessary skills. Aboard ship, my hair quickly bleached blond in the Caribbean sun and my fellow pirates dubbed me 'Golden Gus'.
"Tarney... Rochedale was first mate aboard that ship and we clashed over one thing or another from the moment we met. When we put in at Kingston, I think Rochedale saw a chance to be rid of me and turn a profit at the same time. Unbeknownst to me, he wagered five guineas with an officer from another vessel that they'd see a blond Irishman hanged during the week they were in port. He laid information against me with the authorities and I was arrested. After a swift mockery of a trial, I was sentenced to hang.
"The noose was around my neck; the hangman was ready to pull the fatal lever; and Rochedale was in the mob, counting his winnings and hooting the loudest. Suddenly cannon fire roared in the harbor. While the crowd raced to the shore, I managed to free my wrists and pull the noose from around my neck, then leaped from the gallows and ran. Within an hour, the Spanish swarmed over the town. Hiding until nightfall, I escaped to another island in a stolen fishing boat." He stroked Lucia's arms, nuzzling the soft curve of her throat. "You must promise me you'll stay out of Rochedale's way, ma chérie."
Lucia sat up, meeting Robin's warning with a grave nod. "Just hearing his name sickens me, Robin. Please let us speak of something more pleasant!"
"I've a better idea, ma chérie! Let's not talk at all," he murmured, gathering her in his arms for a thorough kiss.
Chapter 19:
In Which Her Grace Keeps an Assignation and His Grace Suspects a Rival
Early morning birdsong serenaded Hyde Park as Lucia and her groom trotted along a sun-dappled bridle path. The promenades were dotted with small clumps of laughing children, a nurse or governess shepherding them through the woods.
Lucia scanned the schoolroom parties, searching for Honor's golden tresses and listening for Derrick's whoops as he played at being a Red Indian, his favorite pretense. It was not long until she heard the boy's wild, unnerving war cry. Following the sound, she urged her horse forward, her groom in tow, and soon discovered her former charges, picking dandelions by a large tree.
Honor was the first to see her, the child's eyes widening in amazement. Pale and pinched, the child's face was much thinner than Lucia remembered. Dark circles ringed her eyes and a melancholy, haunted look suggested an abiding and deeply harrowing grief.
'Lady Saddewythe was right,' Lucia thought, dismounting. Honor did need reassurance that her governess was well.
As Lucia's foot touched the ground, Honor flew toward her, shouting, "Cothy! Cothy! Cothy!" so loudly that people turned to stare. Lucia opened her arms and the little girl flung herself into them, sobbing, "Cothy! Oh, Cothy, I thought you w-were d- dead!"
"I am not that easily got rid of, my dear!" Lucia laughed as she hugged Honor close.
The other children gathered around her, all chattering at once. "...Hate this London, Cothy! There are no frogs! Can't go fishing..." "...Mama says I may attend Lady Alworth's musicale..." "...Can I ride your horse, Cothy, please? I won't fall off, I promise..." "...Why are leaves green, Cothy? Miss Twyll doesn't know! She doesn't know half the things you do..." "Did that Monster Man hurt you, Cothy? How did you get away? Did you kill him with a pistol? Oh, Cothy, I thought you were dead!" Honor's wail of remembered agony soared above her siblings' babble.
Over their heads, Lucia smiled at Miss Twyll, and held out her hand. The governess, a tired-looking lady some twenty years older than the duchess, sank into a deep curtsey. "Your Grace."
"We need not be so formal, Miss Twyll. I'm sure we must have a great deal in common. Recollect that we've both had to try to control Master Derrick's penchant for wild escapades and Miss Honor's bent for wandering away, after all. It is a wonder these children ever learn anything with their high spirits!" Lucia held out her hand again. This time Miss Twyll took it with a shy smile.
Lucia spent the next half-hour visiting with the children and talking to Miss Twyll. Then Honor insisted that they all play 'Hide and Seek' as they were used to do at Saddewythe Manor. The happy little group whiled away another half-hour. At last, Lucia collapsed in a laughing heap on the ground. Honor climbed onto her lap and the other children clustered around, bursting once more into a confused babble of conversation.
Lucia's groom, Andrew, had been standing a short distance away with the horses. He approached the duchess, bowing awkwardly. "Beg pardon, Your Grace, but you did say as 'ow you wanted to leave at nine o'clock. It is a little past that.
"
Hugging each of the Saddewythe children, Lucia said, "I have had a delightful time, my dears, but I must be going!"
"Oh, but, Cothy, aren't you coming back home with us? We want you for our governess again!" Honor pleaded.
Lucia knelt so that she and the child were face to face. "My dear, I cannot. I am married now and I must stay with my husband."
"Is your husband that Monster Man who made you ride his horse on your tummy?" Honor's finger stole into her mouth, her eyes round.
Lucia carefully considered her answer. "Yes, he is, but he is not a monster. I am perfectly safe with him."
"He stole you and now he's going to kill you! I know it!" the child challenged, crying almost hysterically. "Why did he have to take you away? He's bad! I hate him! He's a-a Monster Man!"
She turned as if to flee. Lucia grabbed her shoulders and spun her around. "Miss Honor! Listen to me, my dear. No one is going to kill me. You must believe that! My husband is not going to hurt me."
"Then why did he make you cry and tie you to his horse and- and steal you?" the little girl sobbed. "He is a Monster Man!"
"Sometimes grown-ups do things...bad things...because they believe they have a good reason..." Lucia paused. Lust, greed, and revenge were not good reasons for anything.
"What was the Monster Man's reason, Cothy? Did he want you for his governess?" Honor was trying earnestly to understand.
"He wanted me for his wife, Honor. He...he had fallen in love with me, you see, and asked me to marry him. I refused him because I wanted to stay with you, but...he loved me so much that he insisted we should be wed and he took me to Reverend Stanfield who married us."
Lucia watched as the child considered her words. How she hated lying to Honor! "Someone who loves you wouldn't hurt you, would he?" the child asked anxiously at last.
The Rogue's Revenge Page 26
