Scandalous Scoundrels

by Aileen Fish

  “It is?” Harry asked suspiciously.

  “Yes. We should celebrate Wellington’s victory at Waterloo.”

  Harry squatted down to organize his soldiers again. “You play with these,” he said, scooping up a handful of blue coated men and setting them in front of John.

  Violetta laughed. “I don’t think Uncle John wants to play soldiers with you.”

  “Of course I do. May I remove my jacket?”

  Violetta looked a bit stunned but said, “Of course.”

  John stood for a moment to divest himself of the jacket, folding it to lay over the back of a nearby chair. Sitting on the floor with Harry he said, “Do you know who taught me how to play soldiers?”

  “Napo-eon?” the boy guessed.

  John smiled. “No. Your mother.” He concentrated on lining up his blue coated soldiers to array against Harry’s red coated ones.

  “Mama is good at soldiers,” Harry agreed, nodding.

  “Better than me, at any rate.”

  “Well, if you’d played more often you would have improved,” Violetta teased.

  “I wasn’t precisely a playful child.”

  “I recall. Although you had your moments.”

  John gave her a skeptical look. “When would those be?”

  “Perhaps not playful, per se. But you had a scathing wit that no child that age should be capable of. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed as much as I did when we would sit at the top of the steps watching Grandpapa’s guests arrive and you would guess at their personalities and lifestyles.” She was almost laughing now in remembrance.

  John smiled as well. It had pleased him to make his cousin laugh so hard she was literally rolling on the floor while trying to stifle the noise of her giggles.

  “I’ll have you know that the first person I saw when walking down the aisle at my wedding was Lady Stanley. My father still doesn’t know why I had a sudden burst of laughter. He probably thinks I was hysterical.”

  “Was she wearing a dead animal around her neck?”

  Violetta snorted. “Oddly enough, no.”

  John had always said that Lady Stanley’s choice of furs was her way of prognosticating how the evening was going to proceed. He shook his head with mock sadness. “I wish that you had told me this earlier. She obviously had serious concerns about your marriage.”

  Violetta plucked at the ruffles on her sleeve. “She did, or you did?”

  John stopped the advancement of his front towards Harry’s, surprised at her question. “Of course I didn’t.”

  “I’ve never thought you approved of Lord Chester.”

  “He’s a fine gentleman and seems to treat you well. He does treat you well, does he not, Violetta?”

  “Yes, I feel very fortunate in my husband.”

  For an arranged marriage, was what she meant. For marriage to a man who had been more than twice her age. But it was true that Lord Chester had always been a perfect gentleman with her in public, and it was reassuring to hear her confirm that the man might do so in private as well. John shrugged. “Lord Chester just intimidates me, Vi.”

  Johnny extended his arms up to his mother and she pulled him into her lap. “I’ve never understood that about you, John. You’re so smart and funny. You and Harold would rub along nicely if you would just get to know him.”

  John frowned as he studied his next move with the soldiers. “I’m sure he’s a perfectly nice man, if you say so, Violetta. But we undoubtedly have nothing in common.”

  “Other than me.” Violetta’s tone was wistful.

  John’s gaze flew up to meet his cousin’s, but she was distracted by smoothing Johnny’s hair as the tot happily clacked his blocks together in her lap. Why had he never seen it before? He knew why. It had been ingrained in him long before he knew Violetta that he was no one, worth nothing, and thus had never been able to truly see how Vi loved him. Just as she now did her husband and her sons. It wasn’t clear when he had gained the confidence to see himself differently so that he could see Vi’s affection for him in another light. It wasn’t just that she had been desperate for companionship at that enormous, rambling estate. It wasn’t just a feeling of obligation or sheer stubbornness that made her write those Christmas letters and invite him to her entertainments. She had a true affection for him. Like the little sister that he never had. Except he did have her. Had, in fact, had her for a long time. It was only now that his sense of worth had rallied enough to see past his own concerns to hers. His heart broke a bit to know that she had wished desperately for two of the men she loved to find an accord. “Oh Vi, I’m sorry. I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

  She looked up in surprise but her expression turned to concern. “Don’t get maudlin on me. The John Howards I know would return a barbed witticism that would make me laugh.”

  John purposefully turned some of his soldiers to march in the wrong direction, giving Harry chance at a flank attack that would have the boy winning within a few more turns. “Perhaps I’m not that John Howards anymore.”

  “Don’t say that. Why else have I been inviting you to all these entertainments, if not to sit in the rafters and pass judgment on my guests with me?”

  He looked up again to confirm that Vi was teasing, and gave her an answering grin. He would like to be able to say that it was reassuring to return to the camaraderie they’d had as children, but in many ways he hadn’t been able to feel that kinship at the time. It was only know that he understood. Vi had been a good friend to him since long before he’d even understood what friendship was. “I don’t suppose that you and the baron would have an extra seat for luncheon?”

  If he had stunned her again, she recovered quickly. “Of course we would.”

  Just like that he knew that he would always have a place with Vi and her family, a place that he’d never had with his own father and siblings. He was no closer to a solution with Miss Jarvis, but was feeling better nonetheless.

  He still had two more days to try to come up with a solution that avoided a masked rendezvous.

  Chapter Eleven

  “One goal, of course, is to put the lady in a state of mind where she is seducing herself on your behalf. Entertaining to watch. Even more entertaining to enjoy.” ~ Lord Lucifer

  Elisa tried not to vibrate with impatience, but it was a near thing. She would see Casimir again tonight. Would he touch her again as he had? Would she learn more about the pleasures between a man and a woman? Emberly had said something nearly ominous at dinner about how they needed to talk “soon,” but she had pleaded a headache and gone to bed early. Now her maid was still tidying her room after brushing out her hair, and it was all Elisa could do to not order the servant to leave. Not that she had much to entertain her time while she waited for midnight. She could read some more of Waverly. It was good, but tedious in parts, and undoubtedly required more focus than she was capable of this evening.

  Her maid finally left and Elisa flipped back the covers to hop out of bed and fetch a candle for reading. Since she had pled a headache it wouldn’t have done to leave her maid with the impression that she was just fine now by making it clear she would read long into the night. As she didn’t think she had the focus for Waverly she turned to an old favorite novel that was also set in Scotland, written by Radcliffe. The story had her so engrossed that she almost missed the chime of midnight. She scrambled into her boots and cloak and made her way as quickly as she could to the edge of Violetta’s garden.

  “Casimir?” she called softly.

  “Yes, Elisa?”

  “Where are you?”

  He finally stepped from the shadows. “Here.”

  She ran into his arms, but he held her more tentatively than she might have hoped. “Casimir?” she said, tipping her head back to look at him.

  “Haven’t you ever considered calling me by an endearment?” he asked, running his finger down her nose and tapping the tip.

  She giggled softly. “My love? Sweetest? Darling?”

&nbs
p; “Any of those would do.”

  She realized that he seemed quite serious, even if a bit playful. “What’s wrong, darling?”

  “We can’t meet like this anymore.”

  Her fingers reflexively tightened on his shirt. “Why not?”

  “You’ll be married soon. I’m sure your husband won’t approve.”

  “Don’t be silly. I have no plans to marry yet. And are you saying you wouldn’t be my cicisbeo?”

  He was quiet for so long that she began to dread his answer. Finally, he spoke. “Perhaps my information is incorrect, but I thought if you did not choose a husband by your next birthday that your guardian would choose one for you. And no, I could never be... that, not even for you.”

  Elisa knew that her attempt to laugh off his information sounded a bit shrill. “Choosing a husband by my next birthday? That’s ridiculous. My birthday is in less than a fortnight.” Was that what Emberly had wanted to talk about this evening? Could it be true? If so, how had Casimir come across such information? Had he been inquiring after her? Did he love her? “Would you marry me? We could elope. Tonight.”

  “No, my sweet.”

  “Why not? I love you. We could be happy together. I’m an heiress, you would want for nothing. We could leave tonight for Scotland.”

  “No, you deserve an honorable marriage.”

  “I want you. Come to my guardian. Offer for me.” She felt desperate. As though the one thing she wanted was falling from her grasp.

  “No, Elisa. Though if I may suggest, consider my friend John Howards.”

  “Mr. Howards? How could he be your friend? He’s quite dull.”

  He took a full step back and held her at bay as she tried to draw closer to him again. Her feeling of desperation increased. “If I screamed right now you would be forced to marry me.”

  “Is that what you want?” he hissed. “To be forced into a marriage with some foreigner you’ve spent a handful of moments with? Someone who has taken liberties with your person while promising you nothing?”

  She felt the tears start and hated herself for it. “How can you say that? That’s not what we have.”

  “It isn’t? I can assure you that you don’t know me.”

  “Then let me know you. Come to my receiving hours tomorrow. Show those irritating peacocks what the man I love is like.”

  “Goodbye, Elisa.”

  “No.”

  “Goodbye, Elisa.” He shook her hands off and backed away. “I don’t recommend screaming. I assure you that I can escape this garden before anyone could find me.”

  She sank down onto the path and sobbed. How could he do this to her? And was it true? Was Emberly planning to force her to marry? She cried until her throat ached and her eyes burned. Then she stood, dusted herself off, and made her way back home. If she had to choose a husband in less than a fortnight, then so be it. It would be on her terms.

  Chapter Twelve

  “One of the greatest challenges of being a man is, of course, knowing when to reveal your strengths. Your goal is to impress her, not intimidate or irritate her. When in doubt, be gentle. When certain, hold no quarter.” ~ Lord Lucifer

  John followed Emberly’s butler yet again to Miss Jarvis’ receiving room. Her cousin sat at her elbow like a guardian angel and her suitors had again arrayed themselves like Penelope’s Proci, each of them hoping to find himself the one to get fat off her funds. Rather than hide at the edges of the circle, today he marched up to make a bow to Elisa.

  “Good morning, Miss Jarvis. How are you finding Waverly?” he inquired.

  The look she gave him bordered on marshal. “Quite dull,” she said flatly.

  “Don’t pester the lady about books, Howards,” Mr. Timms sneered. “She’s not a lover of letters like you are.”

  Timms had been among the boys that had made John’s life at school something of a hell. There had been a time when John would have shrunk back from a confrontation with the man, but today was not that day. Turning to the other gentleman he said, “To the contrary, Timmy, she doesn’t have to sound out the words like you do and is able to enjoy books quite a bit.”

  The group of men looking at him turned decidedly hostile, and an almost choking atmosphere of tension pervading the room.

  Pelton, another man he remembered from school, rose to address him. “See here, Howards, there is no call to disturb Miss Jarvis’ receiving hours.”

  “No? There is every reason to do so. She confided to my friend last night that she would rather run off to Scotland with a stranger than marry any one of you. The only person who might hate you more than she does is me, but that’s only because I know you better.”

  Elisa’s shocked voice came from behind him. “Mr. Howards!” When he turned he saw that she was on her feet, angry and embarrassed. “How dare you speak to my guests this way?”

  “Are they your guests, Miss Jarvis? If you leave your door open hungry dogs are bound to wander in. That doesn’t mean they were invited, nor does it mean they should be encouraged to feast.”

  “That is outside of enough!” she protested.

  Her cousin stepped in front of her. “Perhaps it would be best if receiving hours were at an end for the day.”

  John refused to break his gaze from Elisa’s, even though she was furious at him. “Yes,” he answered. “I suppose I should go be dull somewhere else.”

  ***

  “If you should anger her, apologies are always required. As may be flowers, sweets, and baubles, provided you feel this conquest is worth the effort.” ~ Lord Lucifer

  Elisa was livid. She had been in something of a state of rage since she had spoken to Emberly and found that he, indeed, had decided she must marry soon. Something to do with her father’s will and how Emberly had never thought she would take this long in choosing a husband. Now he wanted to make sure that nothing could happen to her and her inheritance. She had been too angry at the time to make much sense of it, but now she was at a completely different level of anger that made her incapable of much of anything other than planning the death of one John Howards. How dare the man run off her suitors like a pack of wild dogs? Yes, it was true that she had wanted someone to do just that for years now, but that didn’t make it his providence to do so. There was only one man that she wanted to have love her, protect her. And he wasn’t named John Howards.

  If there was one thing she knew about money it was that everything had a price. It was past time that she find Casimir and make him deal with her on her terms.

  ***

  “The trick, of course, is engaging her emotions enough for a mutually pleasing encounter without any tricky ongoing entanglements.” ~ Lord Lucifer

  When John returned to his flat he considered drinking an entire bottle of whiskey and sleeping for a week. It had been thrilling, certainly, to lay waste to Elisa’s room full of false suitors. But it had also been emotionally draining to a point he didn’t realize one could survive. It was school, plus the Congress, plus every other anxiety-provoking situation he could ever remember, all rolled into one. When he heard a knock at the door he considered not answering it.

  “Howards,” came a voice from the hall. Mr. Norman, his landlord. “A package came for you.”

  Although hardly in a frame of mind to see one more person today, John opened the door. “Thank you, Mr. Norman.”

  “Of course, my lad.” The squat little man handed over a package that was most likely a book. Although the chatty landlord looked hopeful for conversation, John simply nodded and closed the door as quickly as he could. Going to the sideboard he set down the package and poured his first drink. That was how he thought of it. His first drink, because he knew it would be followed by many more. He had never really been one to drink to excess, but he thought today might be the day where he found out what the term “thoroughly foxed” really meant.

  After downing the first whiskey in record time, he looked at the package again. He had no idea who sent it, even though the list of suspects
was short. He would expect Violetta except that it wasn’t her handwriting. Looking at it a moment longer he realized he did recognize the handwriting. Casimir?

  He tore the paper off to reveal a copy of Guy Mannering, the latest novel by the author of Waverly. How on earth? He plucked out folded over paper that had been pressed under the front binding. As his eyes scanned down the page, John could almost hear his Polish friend’s voice.

  Dear John,

  I was greatly relieved to hear that you had made it home from the Congress when I went to the bookshop today. I don’t quite remember how you came up in conversation, but Mr. Fitton was delighted to find out that we knew one another. As I imagined you would not want an unexpected guest on your doorstep, I purchased this on Fitton’s recommendation that you already had Waverly and most likely finished it by now. You must come see us soon. Our townhouse is a bit short on entertainments as it is not fully furnished yet, but I assure you that we have books and conversation to share.

  Your friend,

  Casimir Rokiczana

  Casimir was in London? Dear God, Casimir was in London.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Most assume that rakes are liars and manipulators. Not the successful ones. Nothing will create ill will quite like an outright falsehood.” ~ Lord Lucifer

  Certain concepts had been drilled into Elisa’s head from such a young age that she rarely questioned them. Of those, there was a long list of “ladies don’t.” Never explicitly stated, but most likely inferred, was that ladies don’t take a carriage across London to face down their midnight lovers and demand marriage. Perhaps, Elisa thought, she would inspire mamas to make that an explicit statement. But honestly she couldn’t be bothered to care about her reputation or Society, or any of those other things she was supposed to care about. This was her life. The rest of her life. If she couldn’t spend it with the man she loved then she would rather spend it alone.