The Rake and the Recluse REDUX (a time travel romance)

by Jenn LeBlanc

  “No matter. She’ll attend the ball Friday, and we’ll see to it that you are there to accommodate her.” Gideon said with a smile.

  Shaw lifted a new pint that the barmaid brought. “And what of you and Lady Francine? She is introduced to the ton Friday and then what? How long will you wait before coming up to scratch?”

  Gideon glared at him. “What did you say?” he asked, surprised by Shaw’s bravado.

  That was all it took for Shaw to back down. “I— I meant, how long will you wait before you ask her to be your wife?” He studied the bottom of his second empty pint.

  “Rox, stop scaring him, and Shaw—this conversation requires more ale,” Perry said as he waved at the barmaid again, who came over and pushed him away from the table to sit on his lap.

  “Milord, welcome home. I’ve missed ye a fair bit. Why’ve ye been gone fer so long?” Lucy drawled.

  “Oh, precious, I had to see to some business far, far away.”

  “Ah, milord, an this business—it has to do wit yer brother the Grace here, don’t it?”

  “Why, yes, sweet Lucy, it does. Now, why don’t you find us three more pints, and don’t be a stranger. We may need more than that.”

  “O’ course, milord, an ‘tis the ‘more than’ that I’m happy to oblige ye wit.” She stood and leaned over the table, conveniently placing her voluptuous breasts in Perry and Shaw’s faces as she reached for the empty tankards.

  Perry smiled as Shaw stared forward and Gideon snorted.

  After she walked away, Shaw looked at him. “So, you are friends with Lucy?”

  “Not as friendly as she would like to be. But she does try. There’s no harm.”

  Lucy returned with three fresh pints, sloshing the ale over her hand. “Oh, sorry, gents,” she said as she licked her hand and winked at Shaw, dipping one finger in her mouth and pulling it out slowly as she leaned toward him. Then she turned and sauntered away through the thick of the crowd.

  Gideon cleared his throat. “How long do you think I should wait with Francine?” he asked.

  Perry looked at him, momentarily stunned. “What? Oh, well, she should attend at least one ball after the coming out, and then you should court her publicly, of course. Perhaps a month, and then you can post the banns.”

  Gideon grunted. “A month?”

  Perry shook his head. “Perhaps not. It now poses several logistical problems, considering that she doesn’t want to be moved to Westcreek with me. Society be damned or not, I’m not interested in explaining any of this to her.” He pointed at Gideon with a threatening glare.

  Gideon gave a smirk and nodded, then they both watched for a while as Shaw flirted with the buxom Lucy, downing his third pint a bit quickly before taking another.

  “Sso. What exactly iss the plan?” Shaw asked, slurring each S like a snake.

  “Pardon?” Perry said.

  “Well, you guyss always sseem to have a plan, but you n-n-never let anyone know…what the plan isss. So I’s juss wondering. You know, what wass the plan?”

  “Oh,” Gideon said. “I understand, he wants to know what the plan is. How we are planning on getting him wed to our Lady Alice. Is that right, Shaw?”

  “Quite,” he said, with a crooked smile as Gideon and Perry began to multiply.

  “You are well into your cups already, aren’t you?” Gideon asked.

  “Quite,” he said again, laughing at the two dukes sitting across from him.

  “Well, in that case, our plan is to have you ruin Lady Alice. It seems the most uncomplicated way to get it done, barring knighthood,” Perry said.

  Gideon cut Perry a glare, then watched Shaw’s expression change from happiness to concern, then to fear.

  Shaw glanced from one brother to the other. “I’m to need more drink,” he said in a broken voice.

  “What are you worried about?” Gideon asked.

  “Oh, worried? I juss, I worry that I’ll ne’er ssee ‘er again. I worry that the lasst time I ssaw ‘er, wass the lasst time I’ll ever ssee ‘er. I worry that she will be bartered away into a marriage of convieniensse. I worry that I’m not good enough for her.”

  Gideon nodded and Perry shook his head.

  Shaw laughed. “You two are funny. Indeed, you,” he started, pointing at Gideon, “you sscare the pisss out of me. I am sssoo glad that you weren’t there when I got to Eildon. I was ssick the entire trip there, and then to find you gone, I felt sso much better.” He smiled, his eyes wide. “Of course, then for both of you to show up together, I almost wished for it to have been just you. But you are funny. Very funny, but sc-scary.”

  Shaw downed the tankard and reached for the new one Lucy set down. He turned to thank her and his nose ended up firmly rooted in her bosom. He opened his mouth in a gasp and promptly shut it, pulling back suddenly and toppling off the bench to the floor.

  Lucy grinned as Gideon peered under the table. “One more all around, please, Lucy,” Perry said as he grabbed Shaw’s arm and yanked him back up.

  The ball started at eight o’clock on Friday evening, with Francine’s presentation scheduled for precisely nine o’clock. The sisters fussed over Francine most of the afternoon. As was tradition for a coming-out, they dressed her in a perfectly tailored white satin ball gown with the gentlest of colors in the trim. She was a vision of paleness.

  Carole fixed Francine’s long tresses on top of her head, leaving ringlets hanging down around her face and shoulders, then she quit the room. Francine walked over to the cheval mirror and inspected herself. The ball gown had a fitted bodice that led to a flat-fronted skirt with a large ribbon-festooned bustle in the back. She wore a pair of gold gloves that went all the way to her shoulders, just beneath the cap sleeves. The gloves offset the paleness of the gown, highlighting the way she held her arms loosely in front of her.

  She stared at herself in the long mirror, neither happy nor sad, simply nervous for the ball to begin.

  She walked over to the front window of her chamber, watching the carriages pull up. Row after row of beautifully appointed ladies and gentlemen descended, entering the town house with smiles of excitement lighting their features. They were here for a show and a story, and they expected it from her.

  Francine jumped when Carole knocked at the door and entered. “You look beautiful, milady.”

  “Yes, I suppose so, Carole. Thank you,” Francine replied dryly.

  “His Grace has sent something for you to wear tonight.”

  Carole held the most beautiful necklace, stunning in its simplicity. A set of clear stones led toward the blue heart-shaped center stone. The necklace was short and when Carole fastened it, the sapphire rested just above the hollow at the base of Francine’s throat, filling it with blue fire.

  “I suppose this is another loan?”

  “No, milady. His Grace bid me tell ye ‘tis a gift.”

  “Ugh!” she exclaimed. “This will never do.”

  Carole shook her head. “No, milady, I don’t s’pose it will,” Carole said with a smile as she moved to the wardrobe.

  Gideon waited at the bottom of the stairs for his brother to be announced, one of the last guests to arrive, but Perry walked in without pause and descended the three small steps to the ballroom as Sanders quickly rattled off his title. The brothers made their way over to Shaw, who stood with a group of gentlemen at the back of the room.

  Gideon ably sidestepped the majority of his pursuers, but much to his chagrin he couldn’t avoid the cousins. He smiled. “Isadore, Saorise, Maebh, Quintin, Calder, Jerrod, Wilder, Poppy.” “How wonderful to see you all here tonight. I assume your mothers are present?”

  Calder smiled. “You know, if you had agreed to receive them this week, or arranged for a family dinner, the task at hand might be less tremendous.”

  “Where is Grayson?” Perry asked as he dragged Shaw into the gathering.

  “Grayson is…Grayson,” Calder replied.

  Gideon grunted. “I haven’t seen him since his return an
d ascension as the Duke of Warrick.”

  Poppy smiled, but her eyes were sad. “I would so much like for you to speak with him, Rox. He always did look up to you,” she said sweetly, her dark locks bobbing about her cheeks.

  Gideon took her hand and kissed her cheek. “Your wish is my command,” he said with a smile.

  Poppy beamed. “I don’t know why everyone is so fearful of you.”

  Gideon growled. “Well, let’s just keep this our little secret.” He winked.

  Poppy giggled and Calder elbowed Gideon. “Actually, I was being regaled by a group of gents who were enamored with the infamous railway deal that you brokered in less than a day, especially after so many others had unsuccessfully tried for more than a fortnight. Quite an impressive bit of work in your off-time.”

  Gideon scowled. “It only takes simple reasoning to bring multiple parties together for the benefit of the outcome. They were all being quite ridiculous, after all. The newer engines can travel upwards of seventy miles-per-hour, yet the track they travel can only manage the heat and pressure of a fully loaded locomotive at thirty. It is entirely logical that the track be replaced, providing a more efficient transport across country. The cost and loss of income from the downed lines will be offset within months of replacement by the more efficient and more oft traveled line. Any argument against the improvements was ludicrous.”

  Shaw’s eyes went round. “I— Well.”

  “Once everyone agreed with me, the only major obstacle was the process of figuring out which lines needed to be closed and when, to interrupt service north as little as possible, which wasn’t much—”

  “Shaw, I must introduce you to the family before Gideon’s business mind carries the night away entirely,” Perry interrupted. “There are a wealth of run-down properties in need of an architect to update them.”

  “An architect? That is fortuitous!” Calder exclaimed.

  “He won’t be available at least until the fall,” Gideon grumbled.

  “You always have been so possessive. I am Lord Thorne Calder, Mr. Sha

  w. Marquess of Canford and cousin to these two boors. No doubt when they are finished with you, you will have a look at my estate.”

  Shaw smiled. “Of course, my lord, with haste.”

  Perry introduced the rest of his cousins, who all eyed Shaw curiously, then Shaw turned back to Perry.

  “Trumbull, have you—”

  He was cut off by the wave of Perry’s hand. “I spotted her when I walked in. Are you telling me you haven’t seen her yet?”

  “No.”

  “Well, we shall change that. Gideon, how soon will they be announcing Lady Francine?”

  “It should be any minute. Actually, it should have already been done. I gave Carole the necklace just before we came down, and she said she was prepared.”

  “Is that a peace offering?” Perry asked with a sly grin, taking a cutting stare from Gideon.

  His cousins shifted in expectation of a row.

  Perry nodded. “The musicians look to be getting antsy.” He glanced up to the first floor balcony that encircled the ballroom. “Well, it won’t hurt to go find our Lady Alice then, will it?”

  Gideon shook his head as someone stumbled into him and he turned, a heavy growl rumbling from his chest.

  “I beg your pardon, Your Grace, I seem to have tripped. I beg your pardon,” the man said.

  “You already said that,” Gideon grumbled at the stricken man. Perry elbowed his brother’s side to warn him of his manners as the man skittered away.

  “Good God, man, I thought you were going to make the best of this evening,”

  Gideon looked at him. “I was. It’s just that I haven’t spoken with her since yesterday and I—” He was cut off by the three loud whacks of the baton on the floor.

  “The Lady Francine Larrabee,” Sanders announced.

  Gideon’s breath caught as he turned, flanked by his cousins and brother, to see her.

  A collective gasp emanated from the ballroom as the ton caught sight of the stunning woman in the entry. Her hair was long, piled loosely on top of her head, with ripples of curls cascading down her back and past her waist in ringlets that glistened like burnished bronze. Her face glowed, her chin tipped up with confidence while her bright blue eyes searched for him. She wore a peacock-blue silk gown that was cut very low across her breasts. The dress was tailored perfectly, accentuating her ripe bosom but barely covering it. The front was gathered below the waist, the skirt layered and drawn up in a bustle that cascaded back like a waterfall. The dress flowed like the wings of a butterfly when she moved.

  Draped around her smooth throat was the necklace he had sent her, the brilliant sapphire in the center.

  “Rox,” Perry said. Gideon’s mouth had gone dry. “Good God, man. Roxleigh!” he said again, pushing him toward the stairs. “You can’t leave her standing alone. Get over there!”

  Gideon strode across the empty dance floor toward her as his cousins swarmed Perry with questions.

  Gideon stopped at the base of the steps. “My lady, you look—ravishing,” he said softly. She smiled down at him. “This is not at all what we expected,” he said with a grin. “As I am sure you are aware.” He took her gloved hand in his and kissed her wrist, lingering just a moment too long.

  She continued smiling at him as he nodded to the musicians. They listened to the murmur of the crowd spread through the ballroom in gaining waves. He swept her in a large circle around the empty dance floor, finally pulling her in and placing his other hand high on her back as the music started. She lifted her arm and let it rest atop the length of his, placing her slippers just next to his sleek black shoes.

  Gideon was beaming, and it took her breath away. The man was a vision any day, but with his formal black and white dress and this smile, he was astonishing.

  “Hudreds of women have been presented for centuries turned out in stunning white dresses, and here you are in blue. To what do I owe this honor?” he asked, inspecting her dress with hungry eyes as he spoke.

  She caught his gaze and parted her lips, hesitating before she answered. “Well, Your Grace, the necklace you sent for me to wear simply didn’t match the other gown.”

  “Indeed?” His eyebrows lifted.

  “Indeed,” she echoed with a small nod. “It’s breathtaking.” She ran her hand over the stone.

  “Breathtaking,” he repeated as he assessed her.

  “Yes, entirely too beautiful. The dress ruined it. The color was wrong. The trim was gold, which clashed. I couldn’t possibly snub the Duke of Roxleigh. After all, he was so gracious as to host this ball for me. I would appear entirely ungrateful. There would be a scene.”

  “Mmm. Entirely”

  “I don’t suppose you’ve heard of him? The Duke of Roxleigh? He is a terrible boor, so I’m told. He is a mean, unsightly recluse and quite obnoxiously proper.”

  “Truly?”

  “Oh, yes, and I wouldn’t want to cross him, you see. That would be a terrible mistake.”

  “I must agree there,” he said. “What does this duke look like?”

  Her breath caught. “Well, stunning, really.”

  “Really? When you said he was unsightly, I pictured an old, awful, filthy—”

  “Oh, no, no,” she said. “That’s part of the trap. He is absolutely handsome. At least, you know, as long as he doesn’t remove his shirt. But with his clothes on—dark hair, bottomless green eyes, perfectly tailored formal suit, perfectly shined black shoes.” Her eyes traveled his lean, powerful figure, coming to rest on his chest. “Perfectly fashioned tie.” She looked up into his striking green eyes and her breath caught again. “Stunning,” she whispered as he spun her through the ballroom, aware that every pair of eyes was on her, including his.

  “Francine.” She gazed into his smoldering eyes. “Francine,” he breathed.

  “You already said that,” she whispered.

  “Yes, of course. I— Francine,” he said again a
s she giggled. “Francine, would you do me the honor—”

  She tripped over his foot and he caught her up against himself and the rest of the ballroom disappeared on a hush. He dropped to one knee before her, knowing that he needed to beg her permission. “Francine, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” he asked as he looked into her eyes.

  Around them, the ballroom broke loose with chatter. Even the Duke of Roxleigh, reclusive and foreboding as he was, was expected to follow the line of decent behavior—and this was not it, Francine realized.

  “Yes,” she breathed, overcome by the emotion she found in the depths of his green eyes, and suddenly, she trusted him, no matter the consequences. “Yes…yes! Yes, Gideon, yes!” she called out as the ballroom fell silent again, the music stopping. He leaned back and laughed joyously as she grasped his lapels and urged him to his feet, searching his face.

  “Francine,” he said with a husky voice. “I love you.”

  Thinking quickly, Perry caught the attention of the musicians and waved to them to start the music again. Then he moved across the dance floor toward Lady Alice Gracin and bowed perfunctorily, sweeping her out to the dance floor as her mother attempted to protest.

  Meanwhile, Gideon pulled Francine back into the waltz.

  Perry eyed Shaw, who was scowling at him, and carefully passed Lady Alice off, then swept the young girl next to her out to the dance floor without missing a step. “And who might you be?” Perry asked the small brunette in his arms. She stared up wordlessly as his cousins followed suit, taking the closest available partners and escorting them onto the floor to finish the waltz.

  Gideon walked out of the ballroom to the terrace and straight into the lion’s den.

  “Hell and damn, Rox! Are you trying to ruin yourself…and me? And Francine?” Perry yelled, advancing on his brother.

  Gideon smiled. “You have nothing to fear from this,” he said. “I just saved her reputation, didn’t you hear? She has agreed to be my wife.”

  “Oh, I heard. Everybody heard. Everyone,” Perry said, turning away to pace.