The Captain's Courtesan

by Lucy Ashford

  ‘Do you know,’ breathed Stephen, ‘it’s absolutely none of your business. Now, I know you fancied this little blonde slut that night at the Temple of Beauty …’ he glanced swiftly at Rosalie, who, still leaning against the carriage with her head bowed, was beyond hearing anything ‘… but if you’ve come to try to blacken my name with her, don’t expect her to believe a word you say!’

  Alec didn’t, especially as last time they had met, he’d locked Rosalie in the basement of Two Crows Castle. She was an interferer. A troublemaker. But she didn’t deserve this.

  She was turning towards him, white but resolute. ‘Give me the child, Captain Stewart!’ she declared rather desperately.

  Dark rings shadowed her eyes. Dear God, she was scarcely fit to stand, but still defiant! ‘No!’ he snapped back. ‘Not until you can show you’re fit to be in charge of her.’

  She wasn’t. She knew that and he knew it. Alec Stewart, her enemy. He looked vitally, frighteningly male, in his greatcoat and boots, his white shirt all crumpled, his neckcloth loose. His over-long hair, almost black in the rain, was all askew. His lean jaw was already dark with stubble, and his eyes were narrowed to angry slits.

  The man Linette denounced on her death bed, thought Rosalie with a shudder. The man who was most likely responsible for the destruction of Helen’s house. Why was he here, with Eyepatch? Somehow she summoned up the last of her strength and lifted her head to blaze resistance. ‘How dare you interfere like this? Give me the child!’

  Stephen smirked. ‘Well, well, Alec. Think you’ve really overstepped the mark this time.’

  Alec, ignoring him, said curtly to Rosalie, ‘Did you let this man buy you a drink?’

  ‘Yes! But it was only lemonade!’

  ‘Only lemonade. You surely don’t intend, considering the state you’re in, to let him take you and your child to his house?’ Alec knew Stephen’s acquaintances. Their ways of passing the night-time hours made the Temple of Beauty look like a haven of respectability.

  She was gazing fiercely up at him, but her face was white as a sheet. ‘I—I had no alternative.’

  ‘You could have made him take you to your home!’

  ‘I couldn’t!’ She clenched her hands. ‘The house where I stay has been burned to the ground!’

  He was stunned. ‘Burned to the ground … Deliberately?’

  But she’d bent over to be sick again. Alec held Katy tight—’Mama?’ the child was saying uncertainly. Dear God, this woman’s home had just been burned down. And now she was going to Stephen’s house, with her child—when Stephen had as good as poisoned her!

  He couldn’t stand seeing her there, so wretched. So damned foolish as to trust his brother. Alec swung round, Katy still in his arms, to fix Stephen with a steady, burning gaze of contempt. ‘That’s it, Stephen. Take your fancy carriage and leave—now.’

  Stephen glanced angrily at Rosalie. ‘You forget. Rosalie and her child are under my protection. Give me the infant—’ He reached for Katy, who began to scream and clung to Alec even tighter.

  ‘Your protection! That’s a joke,’ breathed Alec. ‘Do you value your inheritance, Stephen? Do you value your life? If so, then you’d best get the devil out of here!’

  Stephen paled. Then he squared his shoulders and turned to a trembling Rosalie, murmuring, ‘My dear, you’ll observe that the matter is out of my hands. But I suggest you think carefully about believing anything this man says, especially if it relates to me. I’ll see you again soon, I hope. And as for you, Alec—I hope to see you in hell.’

  With that Stephen barked orders to his driver, climbed back into his carriage and it rattled away down the street.

  Chapter Eleven

  Rosalie moved quickly. Snatching Katy from Alec, she began to march off in the rain, her mudsoaked clothes clinging coldly to her legs. She didn’t know where she was or where she was heading. She felt sick and desperate. Katy was crying again.

  Alec charged after her while Eyepatch, face set, held the two horses. ‘Stop, Rosalie. Where are you going?’

  ‘I don’t care! Anywhere!’ she cried. The rain was pouring down; they were all wet through.

  ‘Rosalie.’ Urgently he caught her by the shoulder and swung her round. ‘You surely didn’t believe that Lord Maybury intended to help you!’

  ‘I think he’d have found us better accommodation than his basement!’ She tilted her chin defiantly. ‘Why do you hate him so? What is he to you?’

  It was a timely reminder for Alec that she didn’t even know Stephen was his brother. And now was perhaps not the moment to tell her. ‘Sorry,’ he grated, ‘sorry, there was I forgetting that you had an appointment with him, back in Piccadilly.’

  ‘I did not have an appointment with him!’

  ‘So you believe he was at the same place as you by chance, do you?’

  ‘Of course! Why else?’

  ‘He bought your drinks. And now you’re sick as a dog … Yet you were going back with him, in his carriage?’

  She clutched Katy tighter, her face blazing defiance again. ‘I had nowhere else to go! And you, of all people, should know why, since you are responsible!’

  Alec drew a deep breath. Light was just beginning to dawn. ‘I take it you’re talking about that fire again.’

  ‘Yes, and don’t insult me by pretending you don’t know! My friend Helen’s home was burnt to the ground tonight, because you took exception to my comments about your way of life, that day at Two Crows Castle! And I know you also set your men two weeks ago to destroy my friend’s printing press—her livelihood!’

  Oh, devil take it. The smashed press, the fire. She thought it was him. He clenched his jaw. ‘Certainly I did not like the garbage you spouted that day you came to my home, chiefly because it in no way resembled the truth. But to think I would take such squalid and petty revenge …’ Alec took a deep breath. ‘Listen to me. I was not responsible for the damage done to your friend’s printing press. I did not set fire to your friend’s home tonight.’

  She lifted her chin, in defiance and disbelief. ‘You have plenty of men to do your dirty work, though, haven’t you?’

  ‘You are insulting them,’ he snapped. ‘I thought you as Ro Rowland pretended to be on the side of former soldiers. Now you’re assuming, as so many others do, that they’re all common criminals. Well, don’t. And your friend with her printing press has no doubt made countless enemies if she regularly publishes vitriol-filled, inaccurate pieces like the one you were starting to write about Two Crows Castle that day you came to visit.’

  She swallowed hard. Either he was an extremely good liar, or he was telling the truth. Impossible. But …

  He was reaching into his pocket, pulling out a folded sheet of paper. ‘Here,’ he said tiredly. ‘You dropped this.’

  It was the letter Biddy had brought to her, from Helen. She had forgotten all about it. Still clutching Katy, she unwrapped it with fingers that were numb with cold.

  Dear Rosalie, we are all safe, though the house is a burned-out shell. I am sending Katy to you with Biddy, because the child was inconsolable and wanted you badly. As Biddy will tell you, you must make haste, both of you, to Mr Wheeldon’s house.

  I have more idea now, Rosalie, who our enemy is. Because shortly before the fire another note was delivered, just like the first—on the same notepaper, in the same handwriting—saying, ‘If you write one more word about Lady A., then you and those close to you will be the target next, not just the house.’ I fear I have made a vicious enemy, Rosalie. But Mr Wheeldon and his sister and their servants here make me feel most secure …

  Rosalie felt the world tilt around her. An enemy Helen had made, then, not her. So the finger of blame was no longer pointing at Alec Stewart … Oh, Lord. She tried to shove the letter back into her pocket, impeded because Katy, upset, was fighting to get free.

  ‘Hush, sweetheart,’ Alec was saying softly to the little girl. He’d picked up the tattered rag doll she’d dropped and gave it to her.r />
  Katy gazed up at him, her crying hiccupping to a stop. ‘Polly-doll,’ she said.

  Decisively Alec took her in his arms. ‘News?’ He nodded curtly towards Helen’s letter.

  The colour crept hotly up Rosalie’s throat to her cheeks. ‘It seems I might have been mistaken. In the matter of what happened to my friend, and the fire at her house. I—apologise.’

  His expression remained iron hard. ‘You make rather a lot of mistakes, don’t you, Mrs Rowland?’

  ‘I’ve said I’m sorry!’ she flashed. ‘Let me have Katy back.’

  ‘You’re not fit to look after yourself, let alone a child!’

  Katy stared up at Alec, wide-eyed, interested. ‘It’s all right,’ he said soothingly to her. ‘It’s all right, sweetheart.’ He gazed narrowly at Rosalie. ‘You’ve nowhere to go, you’re not well and you have the child to think of. You’re what I’d call in trouble.’

  ‘Lord Maybury would have helped me!’

  His lips thinned. ‘If you believe that, you’re even more foolish than I’d thought. And as Lord Maybury’s gone on his sweet way, I’d say you’ve actually no choice but to let me take you both to my house for the night.’

  Fear jolted through Rosalie. She’d always intended to tackle this man. To enter his lair somehow, and find out all she could about Linette’s enemy. But, oh, Lord, not like this. Not with her legs shaking, and her stomach heaving, and her brain a woolly mess. And with—Katy.

  Yet what else could she do? She had no money. No means now of even getting safely to Mr Wheeldon’s house. ‘Wonderful,’ she said bitterly. She pushed back her hair. ‘So it’s your basement again, is it?’

  Her legs wobbled and he saw it. ‘Take hold of my arm,’ he ordered. ‘I’ve got the child safe. And this time, we’ll try to do better than my basement. Garrett!’ He was turning to call out to Eyepatch.

  ‘Captain?’

  ‘I want you to take the horses home. But first find me a hackney, quickly. I’m bringing Mrs Rowland and her child to Two Crows Castle.’

  Garrett’s face was a picture of dismay. ‘My God, Captain, have you lost your wits?’

  ‘Button it, Garrett. Just do as I say, will you?’ Glancing down, Alec saw that Rosalie looked white as death.

  The child looked anxious. ‘Mama?’

  ‘She’s all right,’ Alec said gently. ‘Your mother will be all right, Katy.’

  Alec realised he was getting himself into a fine pickle. No wonder Garrett had looked aghast. But when Alec had seen her struggling to get out of Stephen’s carriage, he’d wanted to punch his brother into the gutter. She looked so defenceless in her drab wet cloak, with her rain-soaked hair clinging to her face. Yet not only had she paraded her wares at the Temple of Beauty, but she’d been with Stephen tonight. She’s no innocent, you fool. Young though she is, she’s a widow and has a child. What’s more, she’s a gossip-raking troublemaker who’s wrongly accused you of all sorts of rubbish …

  The hackney summoned by Garrett rumbled to a halt close by. He thought he could see tears misting her eyes as she turned to him and whispered, ‘You promise me the child will be safe?’

  ‘I promise,’ he said, tight-lipped. God, she could barely stand. Grimly he climbed after her into the dingy hackney with Katy still secure in his arms and cursed himself for a fool all the way back to Two Crows Castle. His men would be far from delighted to see her after her last visit. But he couldn’t leave her out on the street. ‘Why not?’ loyal Garrett would say. ‘She deserves no better.’

  Alec sighed. The trouble was that even now, bedraggled and sick and hostile as she was, she was still so eminently desirable that his loins ached. Dear God, she was prey to anyone like this, let alone his evil brother. She was clearly of gentle birth and educated. So what the hell was she doing, getting involved not only with the gutter press, but with Dr Barnard’s place and with Stephen? She could be big trouble. Could? She already was, damn it. Nowhere to go, apparently. No one to turn to except him.

  The child slept in his arms. If he’d not tried to warn his father off his new wife, and if he himself had married that heiress as he was supposed to, he might have had a child of his own by now …

  A hell of a lot of ifs. The coach was pulling up. They were there.

  * * *

  Rosalie’s heart plummeted as they pulled up outside Two Crows Castle. The smoky lanterns that hung on either side of the big front door did little to relieve the gloom. She insisted on holding Katy herself as soon as she was out of the cab. For one night. One night only.

  ‘What’ve you got there, Captain Alec?’ That big red-haired Scotsman—oh, she remembered him—was drawing closer, frowning suspiciously. ‘Och, now, you’re not forgettin’ she’s the one that accused you of all those bad things the other week?’

  ‘That was a misunderstanding,’ said Alec curtly, guiding Rosalie towards the door. ‘And she’s here to stay, Sergeant McGrath, just for a day or two.’

  More men were gathering round. Rosalie clutched Katy tighter. ‘A child,’ they were muttering. ‘He’s brought in a child and that woman.’ Eyepatch was there, too; he must have stabled the horses, and his frown was equally dour.

  Panic-stricken, Rosalie swung round to Alec. ‘Look. I’ve changed my mind. Katy and I will find somewhere else.’ Anywhere else.

  ‘We’ve been through this,’ Alec answered tightly. ‘Where else, exactly, would you find shelter at this time of night?’

  Nowhere. She shrank back from all their cold stares.

  ‘Don’t worry, Mrs Rowland.’ Alec sighed. ‘You and the child will have a room of your own, with a key on your side of the door—not that you’ll need it. This place is far from luxurious, but at least we’re all honest.’

  Suddenly Katy opened her eyes and reached out to Alec, who touched her chubby hand very lightly. And when just the smallest of smiles crinkled his sombre eyes, the result was so devastating that Rosalie felt her insides lurch again. He said to her, more gently, ‘Garrett will show you to your room. We’ll discuss what’s to be done in the morning.’

  Already McGrath was trying to draw Alec to one side. ‘Captain, there’s more fellows needin’ rooms tonight. They’re waiting in the Rising Sun for you …’

  She watched Alec’s tall, rangy figure disappearing from view, with red-haired McGrath at his side. And she felt as if her one pillar of safety was abandoning her.

  Safety? Was she insane? Was this how Linette had felt? Still feeling sick, she held Katy close and struggled to gather her disarrayed thoughts as Eyepatch—oh, Lord, she must remember his name was Garrett—led her surlily up the stairs.

  The accommodation she and Katy were to share consisted in fact of one small room. Garrett had lit a lamp before he left; as she looked around, she felt a tiny but welcome sense of relief. There was just enough space for two narrow beds; the blankets, though threadbare, looked clean and the floor was swept, with a closet for clothes and even a small mirror nailed to the wall over a washstand.

  A middle-aged woman knocked on the door a few minutes later. ‘My name’s Mary, ma’am, and I’ve brought you both clothes, ‘cos the Captain said yours were soaked and here’s some milk and bread for your little one. You’ll be sure to let me know, won’t you, if there’s anything else you want? Bless her, isn’t she sweet! My little granddaughters, now—’

  ‘Thank you, that will be all,’ Rosalie cut in. Unable to find the promised key, she jammed the door shut with a chair after the woman had gone. On the one hand, she rebuked herself for being abominably rude. On the other hand—she was in the domain of her enemy.

  And she was so tired, all she wanted to do was sleep. But first she changed Katy into those dry clothes, then took the plate of bread and, after hesitating—they wouldn’t stoop to poisoning an infant, don’t be a fool—she sat Katy on her lap and fed her.

  That was when she heard the noise of men talking somewhere outside. Going over to the window with Katy still in her arms, she pulled back the faded curtain t
o gaze out.

  ‘Tick-tock man. There,’ Katy announced with satisfaction.

  The window overlooked a large, overgrown garden at the back of the house. A flagged terrace was lit by the glow of a brazier, and gathered around it, with tankards of ale in their hands, were a dozen or so rough-looking men—and two young women, with whom the men were clearly on familiar terms. In their midst was Alec, laughing and joking with them. One of the women, who had dyed black hair and up-thrust breasts on full display, had her hand possessively on his arm.

  What had Lord Maybury said? I’m afraid that Alec Stewart keeps company with the lowest of the low …

  Shivering with dismay, Rosalie turned away from the window, freshly appalled at the situation in which she’d landed herself. Katy was nodding off in her arms; Rosalie wiped her face and fingers clean and put her in the spare bed with her rag doll next to her. She remembered, with a wrench at her insides, how in the cab Katy had slumbered in Alec Stewart’s arms, her thumb in her mouth, her dark curls tousled around her angelic face. I envied her, in those strong arms … Don’t be stupid! Don’t be so utterly idiotic! She blinked away her own hot tears of weariness and despair.

  No matter how much she tried to tell herself that this was her heaven-sent opportunity to find out more about the dangerous master of Two Crows Castle, she was in a mess, she acknowledged bitterly, an almighty mess. She changed into the nightdress Mary had provided and settled herself awkwardly on the bed, preparing herself for a sleepless night. Why did Alec Stewart and Lord Maybury hate each other so? There was so much that she couldn’t make sense of …

  But suddenly something that should have been obvious struck her with a dreadful jolt. No wonder Katy was so happy in Alec Stewart’s arms. She had, after all, most likely found her father.

  Alec didn’t reach his bed until late. Tonight he knew he’d vastly added to his problems by taking in Rosalie—Mrs Rowland—and her child.

  Why had he done it, when she so clearly hated him? When she was preparing to go off for the night with Stephen?