by Darcy Burke
As far as Colton was concerned, Rafe had been the Vicar, a man who lent money at a higher-than-legal rate. He had no idea of Rafe’s life before he’d reinvented himself as a moneylender in Blackfriars.
“No.” Rafe had never planned to tell her either, but that had been prior to becoming betrothed. Fuck, this was a tangle.
“You must.” Colton stood and gave Rafe a stony stare. “You worked closely with Chamberlain, and while I know you weren’t party to his extortion, you used him to gain new borrowers—men from his circle that you would not have had access to.”
Rafe wiped his hand down his face and swallowed a frustrated groan. He hadn’t considered Chamberlain before he’d proposed. Hell, he hadn’t considered much of anything. He just knew that she loved him, wanted him, and he wanted her too. She was also potentially the key to gaining what he needed to take down his uncle.
A goddamned tangle indeed.
“I’ll tell her.” Rafe met Colton’s gaze. “You won’t say a word.”
“Do it soon, and tell me when it’s done. I’ll speak to her before the final banns are read. I won’t let her get to her wedding day again only to realize the man she plans to marry isn’t who she thought.”
Put like that, Rafe was no better than Chamberlain. In fact, he was worse. As far as he knew, Chamberlain hadn’t used her for anything like Rafe was planning to do.
No, he wasn’t using her. He cared for her. That their betrothal would benefit him in his quest was simply an added benefit.
“I will protect her,” Colton said firmly. “Family is of the utmost importance to me, and she is my family. And in the absence of her father, I take full responsibility to ensure her well-being.”
“You’re a good brother-in-law,” Rafe said quietly. He exhaled and glanced up at the ceiling. “I became the Vicar to better myself. I’d stopped charging that higher interest rate a few months after you repaid your debt. And I stopped intimidating people who weren’t on time with their payments.” He looked at Colton and felt a bone-deep regret. “I am so sorry about your parents.”
It was a long moment before the viscount responded, and when he did, his voice was low and harsh. “Thank you. I hope you love her. It can save you, you know. It saved me. Without Jane, I don’t know what would have happened to me.”
Rafe didn’t love Anne, though. He wouldn’t.
“With her, you can find the strength to look forward instead of back,” Colton continued. “I imagine that must be hard for you right now after learning who you are.”
“Yes.” He swallowed, trying to keep his throat from constricting. “My entire life was stolen from me. Please don’t come between me and Anne.” In that moment, he knew why he’d asked her to marry him. She’d been the only tether he wanted to hold on to since Eliza and, before that, Selina. People like her didn’t come along very often, and when they did, you clasped them tightly and you never let them go.
Colton nodded solemnly. “I’ll give you time.”
“I am going to write to her father,” Rafe said. “Not for his permission, but because I should. I should, shouldn’t I?”
“Yes.” Colton’s lip curled. “He’s an ass. I hope he doesn’t return to London for the wedding. I’d just as soon not see him after what he put Jane through.”
“Perhaps I’ll tell him the wedding will be in August. You and Lady Colton will be gone by then, yes?”
Colton actually smiled. “Yes. Perhaps you won’t be the world’s worst brother-in-law after all.”
“I will try not to be.” Rafe meant it. He’d never been part of a family, and now he had Selina’s husband’s large extended family, Selina’s pretend sister Beatrix and her new husband and their daughter, and soon he’d have Anne and her sister and the man standing before him. He supposed he also had to include his blood family. No, he’d never call his uncle family. Never.
“Thank you for not calling me out,” Rafe said wryly. “That is what you lords do, isn’t it?”
“We lords, and yes, sometimes.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “And don’t provoke me. I’m still not in favor of this. If Anne gives me any indication she’s not happy, I’ll put a stop to everything.”
“Understood. But you won’t have to. If Anne is unhappy, I’ll let her go.” Somehow, in the span of an afternoon, that thought had become almost unbearable.
Rafe left a few minutes later, and by the time he arrived in Grosvenor Square a short while after that, he was more than ready for a glass of brandy. He stalked into the house as Tim took the cabriolet to the mews.
Glover intercepted him as he walked through the entry hall. “My lord, Lady Selina and Mr. Sheffield are here to see you. They are in the library.” The butler had taken to addressing Rafe as “my lord” and Selina as “lady” since learning of his title. Glover did not care that he wasn’t yet officially the earl. Rafe appreciated the small act of solidarity.
“Thank you.” Rafe made his way to the library, intent on at least the brandy.
When he entered, Harry stood from the settee where he sat with Selina. Both looked…anxious.
“This must be important, since you’re here waiting for me.” Rafe realized he didn’t have liquor in the library and bitterly resented the oversight. “Should I go into my office to fetch brandy? Gin?”
“The clerk returned from Stonehaven.” Harry’s statement sounded ominous.
Rafe’s interest and attention were wholly piqued. He strode to a chair near the settee and sat down, eager for the report. “And?”
“He spoke to everyone. There are perhaps a half dozen retainers who were there at the time of the fire, most of them grooms or gardeners. One member of the household, the housekeeper, is still there. At the time of the fire, she was eleven years old. Her father was the steward. He died trying to save your parents.”
Rafe clutched the arms of the chair, his heart twisting.
“Rafe.” Selina’s voice was soft and soothing.
He looked at his sister and saw his anguish mirrored in her gaze. Nodding slightly, he exhaled and loosened his grip on the chair. “She remembered the fire?”
“Yes,” Harry answered. “Quite distinctly, as it was a traumatic event for her. She said the bodies of the children—of you and Selina—were not recovered. That will bolster your claim significantly.”
Rafe didn’t give a damn about the claim. At least not compared to what really mattered: punishing his uncle. “Was the clerk able to gather any evidence against our uncle?”
Harry grimaced. “Not specifically. However, one of the grooms recalled that a footman disappeared shortly after the fire. He remembered him because they’d been friends.”
“How is that evidence?” Rafe asked. “It doesn’t seem unusual that someone would leave following such an event, particularly since his job was presumably no longer needed. A footman requires a house for employment.”
“While that would be true, the groom said it was peculiar because the footman’s sister was your nurse, and she did not disappear. She testified that the children died, that she’d been unable to save them. She also said the only reason she was alive was because her brother had rescued her.”
“Fucking hell.” Rafe shot out of the chair and paced to the other side of the room, his thoughts crashing into anger and frustration. He vaguely thought that he hadn’t cursed so much in one day since moving to Mayfair. But today deserved every epithet he produced.
“Edgar took us away, and Pauline stayed to cover their crime,” Selina spat.
Rafe spun around at the vitriol in her voice. She sounded the way he felt. “It’s good that Edgar is dead and Pauline is soon to be.”
Selina pressed her lips together. “She already is. The clerk Harry sent to take her testimony returned a little while ago.”
Harry frowned while bitter disappointment glittered in his gaze. “I deeply regret I wasn’t able to find someone to go until today. I should have gone myself on Friday.”
“Don’t,” Selina said. “Yo
u were busy with other matters.”
Rafe stared at a line of books on one of the shelves in front of him. If he didn’t love them so much, he would throw every single one to the ground. He wiped his hand back over his forehead and ruffled his hair in frustration.
“Now what?” He stalked back to them and sat down again. “How do we ensure Mallory is prosecuted? He fucking killed our parents.”
Harry looked at him with grim determination. “I’m still working on that. I won’t lie—it doesn’t look easy right now. But I’ve never let that stop me.”
“Harry will find the proof we need,” Selina said with far more conviction that Rafe possessed.
“Good, you be optimistic for us both.” He felt as if the tenuous hold he had on this new life, this life he’d worked so hard to achieve, was slipping fast. Had he really become engaged just today? “I should mention that I’m marrying Anne Pemberton.”
Selina sat straighter and blinked at him. “Truly?”
“I proposed to her today, and she accepted. The banns will be read Sunday. We will wed the last week of July.”
“Congratulations,” Harry said with a hint of caution. “Are you happy?”
“What?” Rafe stared at him, unseeing, for a moment. “Yes. Of course.”
“It’s very sudden, isn’t it?” Selina asked.
“I’ve known her for months, so no. It’s nowhere near as sudden as you and Harry getting married after a few short weeks of acquaintance.” He looked at Harry. “I would like to be the earl before we are wed. Is that possible?”
“Entirely. I started drafting the claim last week, and now that I have the information from Stonehaven, I will finish it with due haste.”
“Excellent.” Rafe slumped back against the chair.
Glover stepped into the library. “My lord, Lord and Lady Rockbourne are here.”
Rafe waved his hand toward himself. “Show them in, please.”
The butler left and a moment later, Beatrix and her husband entered. They wore matching expressions of apprehension.
“What’s wrong?” Selina asked, starting to rise.
Beatrix, who truly looked as if she could be related to Selina and to Rafe, in spite of her diminutive stature, waved her back down. “Here.” She handed a newspaper to Selina and sat down on the other side of her on the settee.
Thomas, Beatrix’s husband, stood nearby. “Rafe,” he said with a nod before giving Harry just the physical acknowledgment.
“Rafe, this says you are the resurrected Earl of Stone.” Selina looked up at him and handed him the paper. “Near the top.”
He took it from her and perused the article under the words, LOST EARL OF STONE IS ALIVE? It detailed that he and Selina were the presumed dead children of the former earl. “How did this find its way to a newspaper?”
Harry stood. “I will ask them directly.”
Selina briefly took his hand. “Thank you.” She turned her head to Beatrix. “People are going to start questioning who you are. I’m so sorry.”
Beatrix shrugged, appearing untroubled. “I am prepared for the onslaught of judgment and dismay when we inform them I am illegitimate and only pretended to be your sister to avoid being ostracized. I am also ready for the confusion and distress when some of them wonder how to treat me since I am a viscountess.” She grinned at them, and Rafe couldn’t help but respect and admire her blithe attitude.
Selina relaxed slightly. “The Beatrix I met at school over fifteen years ago would not have been so secure.” She smiled at her. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you. I get all of my courage from you, dear sister. No one can stop me from thinking of you that way.”
“Nor me,” Selina said fiercely.
“I do wonder what my father will say.” Beatrix looked to Thomas. “I suppose I should warn him.”
Thomas frowned. “He doesn’t deserve that.”
“Probably not,” Beatrix said gaily. “What about you, Selina? Are you ready for the difference in the way people will treat you now?” She glanced toward Rafe. “And you?”
Selina exchanged a look with Rafe and shrugged. “I suppose.” She exhaled. “I knew it was coming. I just wanted another day or two.”
Harry faced Rafe. “I’m going to submit your claim to the Prince Regent and the attorney general tomorrow morning. However, before I finish it, I’m going to the newspaper to find out how they learned this information.” He bent and kissed Selina’s brow. “I’ll see you at home later.”
“We’ll drop her at Cavendish Square,” Beatrix offered.
Harry thanked them and left.
Rafe rose. “If you’ll excuse me, this has been a thoroughly eventful day.”
Selina also stood, as did Beatrix with her. “Rafe became betrothed today. Goodness, that will be in the newspaper soon too.” She looked at him. “When do you plan to announce it?”
“How the hell should I know?” He scrubbed his hand through his hair again. “Am I supposed to make an announcement, or will Anne?”
“Anne Pemberton?” Beatrix asked in surprise. At Selina’s affirmative response, she added, “Excellent choice. I like her very much. Though, I’m surprised she agreed to marry someone so soon after her other wedding.” She made a face of disgust before her expression transformed into a warm smile directed at Rafe. “You must have completely won her over. Congratulations, Rafe. I hope you’ll be very happy.”
Thomas cleared his throat. “I would say that Miss Pemberton’s family should make the announcement. You may wish to discuss the particulars with Lady Colton.”
Rafe didn’t want to discuss anything anymore today. He tugged gently at his cravat, but didn’t untie the knot. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m in need of a brandy. Then I’ve apparently a betrothal to announce.”
Selina came toward him and touched his arm. “I’m so glad for you.” She searched his gaze, as if trying to read if he truly was happy. “Please let me know if I can help.”
“I’m sure you can.” He kissed her cheek and departed the library.
If all went according to plan, he would be an earl and a husband before the month was out. And hopefully his uncle would be on his way to the noose.
Chapter 13
Anne stifled a yawn as the coach drove through Berkley Square.
“You’re tired today,” Jane noted from beside her.
“I slept rather fitfully.”
“Because of the betrothal?” Jane had been thrilled for Anne, if surprised that Rafe had actually proposed since there had been no official courtship. She’d noted that people would find that of interest. Anne had said she planned to tell people that they’d met at Ivy Grove and their courtship had been swift.
“And the story in the paper.” Anne had wanted to see Rafe after reading the article identifying him as the presumed dead heir to the Earl of Stone. But she’d settled for sending him a note saying she was thinking of him. She’d yet to receive a response, which had probably also contributed to her sleeplessness.
“I am curious to find out your godfather’s reaction to that newspaper story,” Jane said as the coach turned onto Bruton Street and came to a stop in front of the current Earl of Stone’s residence.
Anne imagined he wasn’t pleased. However, he couldn’t avoid the inevitable. Rafe would be declared the earl. “We will discover it shortly,” she said to her sister as the coachman opened the door.
A few minutes later, they sat in the drawing room awaiting Anne’s godfather’s arrival. This time, Jane would remain with her for the entire visit.
Her godfather hurried into the room, his features taut with distress. “Ah, Anne, and Lady Colton.” A weak smile stretched his lips. “I’m afraid you’ve caught me on my way out.”
“I see,” Anne said pleasantly, afraid that he was, in fact, very upset about the newspaper article. “I came to share some news.”
“Oh?” He stood a moment longer before taking a seat, though he was clearly ready to leave as soon as Ann
e said what she came to say.
She hesitated, wanting to ask him about his agitation first, but ultimately revealed her news. “Yesterday, I became betrothed to your nephew.”
Anne didn’t think it was possible for the earl to sit any farther forward on the edge of the chair, but he did. His eyes rounded and his jaw dropped. “What? How?” he sputtered.
“After we met at Ivy Grove, we found we had much in common. He has called on me a few times,” she fibbed, “and we decided we suit. I expected you would be happy since you were so intent on reintroducing me to the Marriage Mart. Furthermore, I am actually marrying into your family. Isn’t it wonderful?”
He blinked several times. “Yes, of course. I’m just surprised. You didn’t mention he was courting you when you visited the other day.”
The skepticism in his tone was slightly annoying. “Things happened rather quickly. I really can’t tell if you’re pleased or not. Is this because you’re planning to contest Rafe’s claim to the title?”
“I still haven’t decided. But I must do so very soon because his claim was presented today. I expect you already know that.”
She didn’t, and that disappointed her. “I want you to know what a good person Rafe is. There is much you don’t know about him.”
“Then please inform me,” he said, settling back in the chair and trying to appear serene despite the tic in his jaw.
Hesitating, Anne glanced at her sister. Should she reveal what she knew of Rafe? The things he kept private and only very recently exposed to her? “He just is.”
“Unless you can point to something that proves what you say, I’m afraid I’ll need to reserve judgment.”
Frustrated by her godfather’s behavior and driven by the need to defend the man she loved, Anne turned her back on caution and hoped Rafe would understand. “He owns a bookshop on Paternoster Row and has for some time. He’s made wise investments and built a considerable fortune. He helps orphans find employment and provides them housing if they need it. He is liked and respected in Cheapside.” She recalled all the people who knew him from when they’d visited Paternoster Row and Cheapside during their stolen afternoons. Every one of them—and there were many—had greeted him warmly.
