A Rogue to Ruin (The Untouchables: The Pretenders Book 3)

by Darcy Burke

  “So that’s where he lived before?” her godfather asked. “Cheapside?”

  “Yes.” She thought of his house there and how his wife hadn’t lived at that residence. It bothered her that she didn’t know where he’d lived before then, but she was still learning all there was to know about him, just as he was about her.

  Her godfather tipped his head to the side. “Will he continue in trade, I wonder?”

  “Does it matter?” Jane asked, saying what Anne was thinking.

  “I suppose not.” He pursed his lips and stared at Anne a moment. “I care so very deeply for you, my dear. Are you certain you wish to wed yourself to this unknown man? There will be some who will never accept him, even if he is declared the earl.”

  “Then those people will be the lesser for it,” she said coolly, irritated that this man who’d been a second father to her wasn’t being more supportive.

  “I beg your pardon, my lord,” the butler interrupted from the doorway. “Lady Burnhope is here.”

  Deborah swept into the drawing room, the hem of her gown brushing the butler’s legs as she moved by him. She blinked in surprise at Anne and Jane. “You’re Papa’s guests?”

  “Yes, dear,” the earl answered. “But I am just leaving. I must be off to Westminster.” He rose.

  Deborah clucked her tongue. “Because of this business with Bowles.”

  “His name is Mallory, and you know it.” Anne exchanged a look with Jane. “We know you’re behind the newspaper article about Rafe’s identity.”

  Eyes rounding, Deborah lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know how you can claim that. I certainly didn’t inform the newspaper.”

  “Not directly.” Anne glowered at her. Harry had learned that someone from Deborah’s household had supplied the rumor. “Can’t you just mind your own business?”

  Deborah blinked in affront. “This is my business. My father’s business anyway, and that makes it mine. My goodness, we don’t know a thing about Bowles. Should he even be the earl?”

  Anne began to see how her godfather might have been encouraged in his doubts about Rafe. Had Deborah urged him to contest the claim?

  “I just learned he is from Cheapside,” the earl put in.

  Deborah’s fair brows arched as she glanced toward her father. “How mundane.”

  Anne rose, her legs quivering with anger, and Jane stood beside her. “You should know that I became betrothed to him yesterday.”

  “Did you?” Deborah sniffed. “Well, he is incredibly attractive, so I’ll congratulate you for that.” She looked to her father. “Meeting in the Lords?”

  “Your cousin has submitted his claim for the title to the Prince Regent.”

  Deborah’s brow puckered. “When will the committee meet to decide?”

  “Not until the attorney general refers the matter. That could happen quickly. Or not. It depends on Prinny.” He brushed his hands over his front. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must be on my way.” He went to Anne and took her hand, giving her a half smile. “I just want you to be happy and secure, my dear. I feel it is my duty, especially in your father’s absence, to ensure your well-being. Please pardon me if I’m being overbearing or dubious. You are very dear to me, and while your betrothed is my blood, I feel as though I have a primary commitment to you given our shared past.” He squeezed her hand before nodding at Jane and leaving.

  Anne didn’t doubt his sincerity or his concern for her. Still, she wished he could get past his own feelings of loss and disappointment with regard to the earldom. Or at least try to understand how this was for Rafe.

  “This is very hard for him,” Deborah said softly, surprising Anne with the caring tenor of her voice.

  Jane rounded her eyes briefly at Anne while Deborah stared after her father. “I imagine it is,” Jane said a bit sourly. “Anne was merely hoping he might be a bit more enthused about her happy news.”

  Deborah turned her attention back to them, her blue eyes sharp. “Can you really expect that, though? My cousin has come out of nowhere and completely upended Papa’s life. He will lose everything—his name, his standing, his assets…everything.”

  “He won’t lose you,” Anne said. “Or me. Or Lorcan.”

  Deborah pursed her lips. “That is not the same, and if you can’t see that, you are incredibly naïve.”

  Jane rose to Anne’s defense. “No, she isn’t. Anne is trying to focus on what’s truly important—people and family.”

  “I suppose that is important to the both of you, what with your parents all but turning their backs on you.”

  Anne blew out an exasperated breath. “Good Lord, Deborah, sometimes you can be so thoughtless.”

  “I prefer to think I’m realistic.” She smiled benignly, seeming untroubled by Anne’s assessment. “I’m only asking you to think of Papa. You must do as you must. Marry my cousin or don’t marry him. Just don’t be surprised if Papa can’t be happy about it.”

  Jane touched Anne’s arm. “We should go. We’ve arrangements to make.”

  “When is the wedding?” Deborah asked before they could make their way from the drawing room.

  “The twenty-sixth.” Anne pulled the date out of her head simply because it was after the twenty-fifth. She hoped that day would be amenable to Rafe. If not, they could move it, but she preferred not to now that she’d told Deborah.

  “Lovely. I’ll look forward to it.”

  Anne and Jane left, remaining quiet until they were seated in the coach.

  “I suppose you must invite her,” Jane said, gritting her teeth. “But how I wish you didn’t have to. I never liked her, and I admit I couldn’t see how you could.”

  “She didn’t always show her less appealing side to me. I think she knew how much her father cared for me and sought to ensure we were close.” Or somewhat close anyway. “She was a good chaperone at least.”

  “She was not.” Jane laughed. “I suppose it depends on how you define good. She was helpful to you but a complete failure in her duties.”

  “Yes. But without her failure, I would not have met Rafe, so for that I must be grateful.”

  “Speaking of Rafe,” Jane said. “What you said about him is true?”

  “Yes.”

  “He and his sister both support orphans, which makes sense given their own history.” But it was more than that. He specifically helped children who had no one and were at the mercy of their environment. “He built everything he has on the kindness of one man, the owner of the bookshop Rafe now owns. It’s astonishing, really.”

  “Mmm, yes,” Jane said softly.

  Anne wondered if Rafe truly would come to walk in the park today. Since he hadn’t confirmed, she wasn’t sure if she ought to expect him or not. It might be that he was busy. With her godfather rushing to Westminster, things might be happening quickly regarding the earldom.

  “Was I too quick to judge my godfather?” Anne mused aloud. “Deborah, for all her faults, did make a valid point about how he must be feeling.”

  Jane patted her hand briefly. “You are too kind. But yes, I thought the same thing. It’s scary how often we do that.” She flashed a smile. “He is likely in a turmoil and now one of the people closest to him—you—is aligning herself with the man he perceives as the architect of his destruction.”

  “That’s not at all hyperbolic,” Anne said drily.

  “Not at all.” Jane flashed a grin. “I actually think that may be how this seems to him. As Deborah said, from his perspective, he’s losing everything.”

  “I am trying to see his side, truly. I suppose a part of me is clinging to him as my godfather since, well, our parents…” She couldn’t seem to find the words to say what their parents were.

  “I can understand that. I would probably do the same. In fact, perhaps I would hold on even more tightly since I think you at least have the chance for reconciliation with our parents.”

  Anne shook her head. “There is no chance for me. Not unless they apologize to you.
”

  “You are the kindest, most loyal person. I hope your betrothed knows how lucky he is.”

  Did he? Anne certainly felt as though she was fortunate. She just hoped she could keep both her godfather and her husband. Even so, she would choose Rafe if she had to. “I hope my godfather will be able to come to terms with Rafe being the earl. I would hate for them to be at odds forever.”

  “It is going to take time, I think,” Jane said. “The question is how much.”

  “However long it takes, the earldom will be Rafe’s. Of that I’m certain.”

  Rafe walked from his house on Upper Brook Street through Grosvenor Square to Colton’s house on Grosvenor Street near Bond Street, arriving at half past four. Since his claim had been submitted that morning, he’d received a flurry of invitations for the final events of the Season.

  Wasn’t that what he’d wanted when he’d moved to Mayfair?

  The butler admitted him into the foyer. “I’ll inform Lord Colton you’re here,” he said.

  “And Miss Pemberton, if you would. Thank you.”

  The butler passed Anne as she came into the entry hall, her steps light and her face breaking into a wide smile. “Finally!”

  He couldn’t help but grin at her reaction to his arrival. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been looking forward to seeing her until that moment.

  She didn’t stop coming toward him until she was close enough to touch his chest. “Did you come to walk in the park?”

  “Among other things. Would it be all right if we spoke for a few minutes? In private?”

  “Yes.” She led him into the library and closed the door behind them.

  “Will we be disturbed?” he asked from the center of the room, where he turned to face her.

  “Hopefully not, since I closed the door.”

  “Well, I’ll be brief.” Which was too bad, because now that he was alone with her, he only wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her. Maybe lay her down on the settee and lift her skirts…

  He reached into his coat and pulled out the small box he’d brought for her. She stopped before him, her gaze falling on the object in his hand. “This is for you,” he said.

  She inhaled sharply before a smile teased her lips. “A betrothal ring?”

  “No. Sorry to disappoint you. I haven’t had time to purchase one. Plus, I’d like to know what you want.”

  “Whatever you choose.” She looked up at him. “And you could never disappoint me.”

  Except he would. As soon as he told her the truth about his past, who he’d been and the things he’d done. But perhaps she would understand?

  He hated the thought of telling her and not because of his feelings. She didn’t deserve the inevitable disappointment.

  Still, he had to tell her, or Colton would. Rafe would have to do so before Sunday when their betrothal was made public by the reading of the banns. That way she could decide not to marry him if she so chose. His gut clenched at the thought of losing her. He realized if not for Colton, he would likely not tell her at all.

  He would at least delay telling her. These days of living with joy for the first time since Eliza’s death were too heady to ruin. He’d do it on Friday. Or Saturday.

  She took the box from him and opened the lid. The cameo he’d purchased at the Burlington Arcade nestled on a bed of ivory velvet. Her gaze lifted to his. “It’s beautiful. But if you didn’t have time to buy a betrothal ring, how did you have time to get this?”

  “I bought it the day you didn’t meet me at Hatchard’s. When you didn’t come, I went into the Burlington Arcade across the street—it had just opened. I saw this and it reminded me of you, both the profile and the fact that it’s oyster shell. It’s actually Aphrodite.”

  “Like the folly,” she whispered, tracing the goddess’s head with her fingertip, her lips parted. When her eyes met his once more, she blinked away a tear. “Thank you. I’m so sorry I disappointed you that day.” She sniffed. “It’s the loveliest gift I’ve ever received. I can’t believe you bought it after I left you waiting. I’m so sorry. I wish we’d told each other our names. I would have sent you a message.” She edged closer to him. “I never would have let you go.”

  Rafe cupped her face and lowered his head. She met his kiss with such a sweet and wild abandon that he moaned softly, deep in his throat. He clasped her lower back and slid his tongue along hers. She put one hand on the back of his neck, her fingers moving between his collar and flesh.

  Afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop kissing her, touching her, he lifted his head. “I’m glad you like it.”

  “I don’t like it. I love it. Here.” She handed him the box while she pinned the brooch onto the bodice of her pale blue gown. “How does it look?”

  “Perfect. Like you.” He’d never seen anyone lovelier.

  Never?

  He felt a pang of sorrow as he thought of Eliza. He hated that he was replacing her. No, Anne was not a replacement. She couldn’t be, no matter how much he grew to care for her.

  A rap on the door drew Anne to turn her head. When she looked back at Rafe, she frowned slightly, then exhaled. “I suppose our private time is over.”

  “So it seems. One more thing. Selina has invited us, along with Beatrix and her husband and your sister and Colton, for dinner at Cavendish Square tomorrow night.”

  “Lovely! I wondered if I was going to manage seeing you tomorrow.” With a delighted grin, she took the box from him and went to open the door.

  Her sister and Colton stood outside, the latter glowering at Rafe as if he wanted to run him through with a sword. Rafe decided to look at Lady Colton instead. Her gaze was on Anne’s dress. “Did you just get that?”

  Anne touched the cameo. “Yes. It’s a betrothal gift. Isn’t it spectacular?”

  “Quite,” Jane said with a grin. “It looks a little like you.”

  “That’s what Rafe thought.” She glanced back at him, her smile bright. “Is everyone ready to walk to the park?”

  “Yes. I brought your hat and gloves,” Lady Colton said.

  Ten minutes later, they were on their way toward the park. Rafe and Anne led the way with Colton and his wife following behind. “I hope you don’t mind, but Phoebe and Ripley are going to meet us,” Lady Colton called.

  Anne looked back over her shoulder. “I don’t mind at all.” She looked toward Rafe as they walked into Grosvenor Square. “Do you know Ripley?”

  “Yes, we’ve met. I’m looking forward to his ball on Saturday. I’ve long wanted to see Brixton Park, the maze in particular.” He darted a look at Anne, noting that she smiled mischievously when he mentioned the maze. “Will you be there?”

  “I will now.” She gave him a look of seductive promise that made him wish it was Saturday night. “I’ve been mostly avoiding Society events, but now that we’re betrothed, I don’t have to fear being bothered by gentlemen looking for a wife.” She squeezed his arm gently. “And you don’t have to worry about anyone looking to snare you in the parson’s trap now that everyone will know you’re about to become an earl.”

  He found it fascinating, and galling, that without the title, he was somehow less attractive, particularly because he was in trade, a fact he hadn’t tried to hide. People already knew he owned a pleasure garden in Clerkenwell—he’d met Selina’s sister-in-law there before she and Harry had wed. But did he want them to know he also owned a bookshop and, as of very recently, a publishing venture? He had many investments, but presumably other peers did too. “I think I need to go to earl school,” he murmured.

  “What’s that?” Anne asked, leaning closer. “Did you say earl school?”

  “I did.”

  She laughed softly. “Hopefully, my godfather will handle that. You can start on Thursday evening.”

  Rafe’s good mood faltered. He would no sooner take advice or direction from his uncle than he would from the lord of hell.

  A few minutes later, they entered the park through the Grosvenor Gate. T
he afternoon was bright and warm, and the park was positively teeming with Society’s finest. Rafe began to doubt the wisdom of coming here today of all days. The day he’d submitted his claim to the earldom of Stone.

  Just inside, they met the Marquess and Marchioness of Ripley. He was a dark-haired, easygoing gentleman with a somewhat rakish reputation. Until he’d fallen completely and unabashedly in love with his wife, one of the founding members of the Spitfire Society. Like Anne’s sister, Phoebe had also come close to marrying. But in her situation, she’d left her groom at the altar. Anne had told him it was because she couldn’t bring herself to marry him.

  “Afternoon, Mallory,” Ripley said. “Or should I say Stone?” He grinned good-naturedly. “I’m sure you’ve quite a story to share. The Lords was abuzz today with the news—and with speculation.”

  “There’s not much to tell,” Rafe said blandly. “My sister and I were kidnapped and only recently learned our true identities.”

  Ripley cracked a half smile. “I don’t believe that for a moment, but I won’t bother you for the details. Know that I’m happy to hear them if you ever want to share, but it isn’t important. Are you ready to take on the duties of the earldom?”

  “Ripley sits on the Committee for Privileges,” Colton said.

  Shit. Rafe hadn’t known that. He should have asked Harry for a list so he could be informed. Not that he cared about making an impression. He hated being caught unaware.

  “Yes,” Rafe said, answering the marquess’s question. “I am eager to reclaim my birthright.” As if it could wipe away the past twenty-seven years. Nothing ever could.

  Ripley assessed him with a sympathetic stare. “I can only imagine how that must feel. I’m just glad you’ve discovered who you are, who you’re meant to be.”

  Rafe sensed the man’s words were genuine. “Thank you.”

  “Shall we walk?” Lady Ripley asked with a smile.

  “Yes,” Anne answered, clutching Rafe’s arm more tightly as they set out toward Cumberland Gate. They took up the rear as Ripley and his wife talked with Anne’s sister and Colton.