The Captain's Courtesan

by Lucy Ashford

  ‘Please let me do something to help you,’ Rosalie asked Mary, who as usual was busy in the kitchen with her baking and her laundry. ‘Are there any more shirts to mend?’

  ‘Lord bless you, I’ve got my two women, Janey and Bess, to help with that. But the sun’s shining, it’s a lovely afternoon. Why don’t you take the little ones into the garden to play?’

  So Rosalie did. And looking round, while the girls busied themselves setting out their toys for a tea party, she could see how beautiful this place must once have been. Ajax had joined them, sprawling hopefully in the sun while Katy and her friends feasted on milk and fresh-baked scones. Rosalie smiled at the big golden dog. ‘Ajax. You are a good, good boy. Aren’t you?’ She slipped him a buttered scone and the dog snuggled closer to her side.

  The children were absorbed in their make-believe party and the usual soldiers were around to watch them, so Rosalie, with Ajax at her heels, began to explore the overgrown thickets of shrubs that lay beyond the paved terrace. Under the ivy and sprawling wild clematis she found old stone urns, intricate paths and trellised arbours. Everywhere were vivid pockets of flowers and unpruned shrubs—blackthorns, primroses, buttercups and half-wild blue hyacinths that filled the air with their sweet scent. Flowers her mother had loved so.

  As she returned to the terrace she became aware of Garrett leaning against the back door, watching her. ‘I was wonderin’ where that dog had got to,’ he said. ‘So you’ve been explorin’ our garden, ma’am, have you?’

  She seized her chance. ‘Yes, and it’s beautiful! I don’t suppose, Mr Garrett—are there any tools I could borrow to clear it? A trowel, perhaps, and a pair of shears?’

  He blinked. ‘You want to clear this ‘ere garden?’

  ‘Well, yes, just a little. Nobody would mind, would they?’

  Eyepatch wasn’t Alec Stewart’s lieutenant for nothing. Within ten minutes he’d unearthed a store of ancient gardening implements from an old outhouse and recruited four ex-soldiers who couldn’t wait to take on their new role as gardeners.

  Under Rosalie’s supervision, her team—three of them elderly, one a young lad, Mikey—began to turn the derelict old wilderness into something rather magical. Rosalie worked as well as keeping an eye on the children, who were making daisy chains to rope round the docile Ajax’s neck.

  But every time she heard a man’s voice in the distance, she wondered if Alec was back yet.

  In the evening she bathed Katy and put her to bed as usual. And as she headed down the stairs, she saw Alec standing in the hallway talking to Garrett.

  Emotion jolted her. He must have come back a while ago and changed, because he was dressed formally, in the black tailcoat and cream breeches he’d worn at his father’s house yesterday. He had shaved. And brushed back his thick hair. He looked relaxed, and devastating.

  Dressed for supper, at Two Crows Castle? She thought not. ‘I’ve got your horse ready, Captain,’ Garrett was saying.

  Then Alec spotted Rosalie. ‘Mrs Rowland. I trust you’ve had a pleasant day?’

  Rosalie came on down the stairs, forcing herself to sound calm. ‘Very pleasant, thank you, Captain. You’re going out this evening?’

  ‘To a party,’ he answered, absently fingering his starched neckcloth. ‘A long-standing invitation, I’m afraid.’

  A cold fist was squeezing the air from her lungs. He was going to a place that was part of his world, and of course she wasn’t in it … For heaven’s sake, you little fool, once he was betrothed to the granddaughter of a duke!

  ‘You sound regretful,’ she said mildly. ‘But I hope you enjoy yourself—and I like your Gordian Knot.’

  His hand flew to his cravat. ‘You’re knowledgeable.’

  ‘Oh, I once wrote an article about men’s neckwear for The Scribbler—’ She broke off. Idiot. He hates your writing.

  But his handsome face relaxed into a smile that made her insides turn over. ‘Then I’m flattered that you approve of my choice.’

  Mentally she was flaying herself. Yesterday at his father’s house she’d dared to wonder if he’d put on those clothes to impress her. How stupid could she be?

  He was smoothing his coat sleeves, glancing down to check his gleaming topboots. ‘How is Katy?’

  ‘Oh, she’s sleeping now, but she was happy, very happy, with the toys you allowed Mary to buy for her yesterday, thank you. That little horse nearly went in the bath with her!’

  Another flicker of a smile. ‘I’m sorry I have to go out. We must find time to speak in the morning, Mrs Rowland.’ He looked, for a moment, as if he was about to say something else. Then he quickly bowed his head and left.

  She went to sit down in the little parlour off the hall. She’d wanted to talk to him, oh, about the garden, and about Linette, and—just talk to him. She felt hollow inside with his departure. She caught a sharp breath, surprised at how she could physically hurt so.

  And then, through the open door, she heard Garrett saying in a low voice to McGrath, ‘So she’s back in town. That’s why he’s goin’ to this fancy ball, our Captain. Dear God, she’s beautiful, but she’s wrecked his life, and you’d think he’d have more sense than to get within a hundred miles of her …’ They wandered on towards the kitchen where the soldiers gathered in the evening.

  And Rosalie had no doubt at all that they were speaking of his lost heiress. She could almost hear Alec’s voice—’She was in love with a make-believe hero and must count herself lucky to have broken it off.’ He was too proud, far too proud, to admit to anyone, let alone Rosalie, that he still had longings for what could never be.

  ‘I hope we can at least be friends,’ Alec had said to her earlier.

  She felt like writing his words on her tormented heart. Friends, Mrs Rowland, you idiot. And with that, you will be content. Do you understand?

  A small string orchestra played discreetly in a corner of the grand salon of Lord Fanton’s house in exclusive Sackville Street and the chink of glasses punctuated the murmur of polite conversation. It had been a long time since Alec had been anywhere like this.

  Lord Lucas Conistone, laconic and immaculate, was at his side—in fact, they’d arrived together—and Lucas was murmuring, ‘Brace yourself, dear fellow. Can’t be worse than when you and I dressed up as Spanish peasants to sneak inside French-held Badajoz!’

  ‘How we got away with it,’ breathed Alec, ‘God knows. Both of us are too damned tall.’

  ‘And your Spanish was execrable,’ accused Lucas with a grin.

  ‘At least I didn’t let myself be waylaid by every Spanish señorita who gave me a pretty smile!’

  ‘They weren’t just after me!’ retorted Lucas merrily. ‘Good Lord, those females were baiting their traps for you, too, just as they are now!’

  Indeed, people were watching them and murmuring behind raised hands. The presence of Lord Conistone was always noteworthy at any social event, and though Alec was known to be estranged for some reason from his father, society’s foremost hostesses were always eager to have a handsome war hero who was also the son of an earl to adorn their gatherings.

  Soon the two men were in the midst of a babble of old army colleagues, though after a while Lucas was swept away to talk politics, since some of his Whig associates were hoping to persuade him into a government post. But before he went, he was at Alec’s side, saying quietly, ‘All right if I move on, old friend?’

  ‘Certainly. I’ll see you later, Lucas.’

  Because the conversation Alec had come here for had to be held in private.

  Alec had called at his father’s house on his way, to be regaled by Jarvis with the tale of Stephen’s reaction last night to the missing food. ‘Was my brother angry, Jarvis?’

  ‘You could say that, sir.’ Jarvis’s cheeks creased in a smile. ‘His guests left almost as soon as they arrived, once Lord Stephen told them there was no food or drink.’

  Alec pictured the scene. ‘I hope he didn’t take it out on you?’

  �
�I pointed out, Master Alec, that the tradesmen’s bills were in the Earl’s name and that, since the Earl was away, I’d no clear idea for whom the goods were intended. As far as I was aware, you, sir, had as much right to the food and wine as Lord Stephen!’

  ‘You’re a good man, Jarvis.’ Alec looked around the big hall. ‘What about the paintings?’

  ‘Lord Stephen said nothing about them whatsoever, sir. But he noticed those labels you’d asked me to fasten on. And only an hour ago, he was back here bringing in some new ones—or should I say, the originals, sir—and telling me some story about mistakes having been made at the restorer’s shop!’

  Alec had smiled grimly at the thought of Stephen’s angry confusion. And now, at Lord Fanton’s, he continued to mingle with the top-lofty guests and even allowed himself to be pressed into introductions by the determined mamas of marriageable daughters. ‘He’s the younger son of the Earl of Aldchester, you know,’ he heard the old tabbies whispering avidly. ‘There’s some sort of family problem, and sweet Lady Emilia found him just a little difficult. But even so, he’s a catch, my dears, a catch!’

  Alec talked and smiled politely, but he never stopped watching as the guests arrived; he didn’t have to wait long. He felt all his muscles tensing as she came in. She was so breathtakingly beautiful. No wonder everyone in the room turned to stare. No wonder his father had fallen in love with her so irrevocably.

  Though the dancing had begun, Alec resisted suggestions that he might lead some fair maiden on to the floor. Likewise he refused invitations to a game as his friends moved through to the card room. Really he was just waiting for the moment he’d come here for.

  He heard, at last, her silken voice at his shoulder. ‘Alec, my dear. You got my note.’

  The feline purr was all too familiar. Alec turned slowly to see Susanna, with her gleaming dark curls, her porcelain skin and sultry, dark-blue eyes.

  ‘I got your note, yes, Susanna,’ he said. ‘You wanted to see me.’

  She put her hand on his arm. ‘And so you came. But they tell me you have not been to any affairs of the ton for, oh, many months! I remember you when I first set eyes on you, Alec. Dancing, laughing, surrounded by beautiful women, always—’

  He drew his arm away abruptly. ‘Susanna. I didn’t actually come to enjoy the party.’

  ‘Ah,’ she sighed, ‘the ennui of the times. You military men weary quickly, I think, of London’s frivolities after the adventure of war.’ The candlelight was glittering on her pale-pink satin gown, on the stupendous jewels—Aldchester heirlooms—that she wore to emphasise her allure. She toyed with her pearl-encrusted fan. ‘Or perhaps you simply avoid society wherever you think I might be.’

  His eyes grew harder. ‘Perhaps I’ve come tonight because I heard rumours. And perhaps I wanted to know if they were true.’

  She shrugged her gleaming bare shoulders. ‘Ah—rumours, maybe, that you have brought my better nature to the fore, Alec! But you know, my dear, you always do that.’

  ‘I wish I didn’t know that was a lie,’ he said quietly.

  Her eyes glittered. ‘If you are not careful, I vow I shall look for someone else to dally with!’

  He put his hand swiftly on her arm. ‘Don’t, Susanna,’ he said tersely. ‘Don’t for God’s sake lower yourself with light and stupid jests, especially when you were perhaps starting to raise yourself in my estimation.’

  She went still. ‘So you’ve heard, then? That I have put an end to my—dalliance with your brother? It is indeed true. Alas—’ she wafted her fan ‘—Stephen was becoming tedious. He visited us at Carrfields and I told him it was over.’

  ‘Searching for fresh entertainment, Susanna?’

  Her exotic eyes narrowed. Then she said, ‘Can we move somewhere a little quieter?’

  He guided her to the back of the room, away from the musicians and the dancing. And she began to tell him. ‘Your brother came to us at Carrfields, for two days. But of course that man of his, Markin—’ she shuddered ‘—was with him and my maid overheard them whispering. Something about a child, a little girl, that Stephen is desperate to get hold of.’

  Alec froze.

  ‘And do you know, Alec,’ she went on, ‘that changed my mind about everything.’ She gazed up at him, her beautiful eyes for once clear and transparent. ‘Men like you, women like me, we can look after ourselves. But I am worried about this child—I believe Stephen really intends her some harm—and I thought that you, of all people, might have the resources to do something …’ She shivered suddenly. ‘There. That is all. Take me into the dancing, will you? People used to say what a handsome couple we made.’

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid I must go.’

  He was already turning when she laid her gloved wrist on his arm. ‘Alec. Can’t you forgive me? It’s how I was brought up, you know, to take what I wanted, and believe me …’ she touched his cheek ‘… often I heartily wish it were not so! I only took up with Stephen to make you jealous. But I didn’t succeed, did I? You are a good man, Alec, perhaps the best I’ve known.’

  ‘I am a damned fool,’ he broke in bitterly. He was suddenly finding the odours of perfume and pomade almost overbearing. His jaw clenched, he made his bow to Susanna and went to find Lucas in the card room. His friend was standing watching a game, but came quickly over to join him.

  ‘News, Alec?’

  ‘Yes, and not good. Lucas, the woman and child that I told you about, that I’m sheltering at Two Crows Castle—they could be in danger. And some day soon I may have to bring them to you and Verena. It seems the peril is greater than I thought.’

  Chapter Seventeen

  Alec was back at Two Crows Castle less than an hour later. Deuce take it, he thought, but he almost found the ruination of this old place a relief after the glitter of the ton.

  Garrett came up to him as Alec heaved off his coat. ‘We tracked down that oily cove Marchmont at his theatre today, Captain, like you asked us to,’ Garrett announced. ‘He told us—after a bit of persuasion—that he gave the girl Linette the push because she wouldn’t—oblige him like he wanted.’

  ‘Yet he suggested,’ grated Alec, ‘that she find work at the Temple of Beauty?’

  ‘It was Mr Marchmont’s opinion—’ and Garrett’s voice, too, was full of contempt ‘—that the experience would stand her in good stead.’

  Alec ground out some words beneath his breath.

  ‘Then we got into the Temple of Beauty, Captain—we bribed a footman who made sure the way was clear. And in the office we found that little green book what you told us about, hidden inside a heavy great thing called The Myths of Ap—The Myths of Aplo—’

  ‘Apollodorus.’

  ‘That’s it, Captain. It said that your brother, Lord Stephen, had indeed been there three years ago. The summer of Vittoria. In fact, he visited several nights in a row—it was in Dr Barnard’s notes. Here you are, McGrath wrote it down: Paid particular attention to the young blonde innocent from the country. Reckon his lordship took her away for his own purposes …’

  Alec was breathing hard. That must be it. His brother, Stephen, had seduced Rosalie’s sister. Was quite possibly Katy’s father. That was why Stephen had been after Rosalie that night at Dr Barnard’s; why he had hunted Rosalie down at the poetry reading, after setting fire to her home; why Stephen had sent that threat and offered the underworld reward for her. His damnably craven brother wanted to stop her search. Perhaps more.

  How in hell was he going to tell Rosalie?

  His next question—should he tell Rosalie?

  Rosalie didn’t even know that Stephen was Alec’s brother. Hell’s teeth, she would fly at Stephen, she would go for him hammer and tongs; she wouldn’t care that Stephen, as well as being despicable, could also be damnably dangerous, with his money and his powerful friends.

  Alec would have to deal with Stephen himself. He fisted his hands. The question was—how? Not, unfortunately, by telling her the truth.

  Garrett
was still watching him. ‘She’s out in the garden, Captain,’ Garrett said quietly. ‘And we’re keeping an eye on her, never fear.’

  It was a little after ten and the darkness outside was illuminated by the pale moon’s glow. The lingering scents of rosemary and lavender filled the air, because Rosalie had been working earlier to uncover an old herb garden. But now she was just sitting on a bench and watching the stars come out, with Ajax lying by her feet. Why are you waiting up for him, you fool? He could be hours. If he came back tonight …

  The thought stabbed her. So she’s back in town.

  Time and time again she’d told herself she was mad to allow this man whom fate had hurled in her path to hurt her so, but apparently there was no end to her stupidity. Indeed, she was just getting up to go inside when she heard the back door opening into the yard; as Ajax barked eagerly, her stomach did a painful flip-flop.

  Alec came around the corner and stopped when he saw her there. The silvery moonlight outlined the stark masculinity of his features. Be calm. Be controlled.

  He came closer. He’d taken off his coat on this warm night, so only his white shirt covered his powerful upper torso. Ajax jumped up to greet him, pawing at his tight cream kerseymere breeches and polished boots; Alec simply stroked the dog’s shaggy head. ‘Mrs Rowland. I thought you would be in your room by now.’

  His dark, brooding gaze caused her pulse rate to race. Somehow she smiled back and gave a little shrug. ‘It’s such a lovely night.’

  ‘You’ve been looking at the stars?’

  ‘Looking at the stars.’ She nodded.

  ‘Tell me what you see.’

  ‘There’s Vega—the brilliant blue-white star in the constellation of the Lyre. My mother used to say it was the sign of summer returning when Vega climbed overhead—’ She broke off. Stop babbling, you fool. ‘I hope you enjoyed yourself at your party, Captain Stewart?’

  He had tugged loose his cravat—the Gordian knot—and unwittingly rumpled his hair. Already, dark beard-growth was shadowing his lean jaw. He was looking like Captain Stewart of Two Crows Castle again. And, oh, she had to resist the physical onslaught on her beleaguered senses.