A Good Rake is Hard to Find

by Manda Collins

  “Then by the power vested in me as the founder and leader of the Lords of Anarchy, it is my pleasure to welcome you into our brotherhood, Lord Frederick,” Gerard said with a sudden grin. “Enough of this solemnity!” he shouted. “Bring the ladies back in and let us celebrate with some dancing!”

  To his surprise, Frederick found himself surrounded by other club members who pounded him on the back in the time-honored tradition of men celebrating with other men.

  “What happened?” Leonora asked in a low voice as she stepped up beside him and slipped her arm through his. “I asked the other ladies, but none of them has any idea of what goes on at the induction ceremony.”

  Grateful to have her once more under his watch, Frederick shrugged. “There wasn’t much to it,” he said, stepping to the side of the room so that the footmen who’d suddenly flooded into the room could roll up the Aubusson carpets. “If I had blinked I think I’d have missed it.”

  A line appeared between Leonora’s brows, a sure indication that she had more questions. But before she could speak her query aloud, Sir Gerard stepped up beside them. “I hope you will allow me a dance with your lady, cousin,” he said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I would like to bid her welcome to the family.”

  “It isn’t for me to allow or disallow her from dancing, cousin,” Freddy said, exchanging a glance with Leonora. “I think if I were so foolish as to do that I’d see a swift end to our betrothal.”

  “My dear,” she said with a merry laugh, “you make me sound like a veritable tartar. I should think if you were to request it of me, I’d dance with most anyone you recommended to me. Anyone within reason, that is.”

  “And am I within reason, Miss Craven?” Gerard asked, a glint of genuine amusement in his eyes. “I’m sure your brother thought so, though he never saw fit to introduce us.”

  At the mention of Jonathan, a chill seemed to wash over the three of them. As if his ghost had chosen that very moment to make his presence known.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Gerard,” Frederick said a little more sharply than he meant to—it was proving difficult to stem his natural commanding tendencies around his cousin. Clearly Gerard liked to think of himself as the strongest personality in the room, so for the time being Freddy would have to play at being the follower. It wouldn’t be easy, but if he and Leonora were going to learn what really happened to Jonathan, then he’d simply need to exercise a bit of control.

  “I mean to say,” Freddy continued in a more conciliatory tone, “it’s doubtless true that Jonathan intended to introduce you to one another before he died. What reason could he possibly have to shield his sister from one of his most valued friends?”

  “None that I can think of,” Leonora assured their host, still all smiles, not revealing a hint of what Freddy knew must be rage at Gerard’s criticism of her brother. “Unfortunately, Sir Gerard, though I would enjoy it very much, as you can see from my attire, I am still in mourning for Jonathan. And though he would doubtless have insisted I forgo the conventions, I’m afraid my conscience won’t allow me to celebrate when I am not finished grieving for him. I know you, as his dear friend, will understand.”

  Freddy watched as a range of emotions crossed his cousin’s face. From surprise to rage, then carefully neutral interest. “My dear Miss Craven, you must forgive me,” he said smoothly, placing a hand over his breast—as if the very thought of his own thoughtlessness was too painful to contemplate. “I was so pleased to meet you at last that I simply forgot the protocols of mourning behavior. If you will allow it, however, we may sit out this dance together.” He gestured to a cozy corner near the fire where two chairs had been placed, away from where anything there could be overheard.

  “I believe that will be quite unobjectionable, Sir Gerard,” Leonora said, before turning to Freddy with a bright smile. “I hope you won’t mind me abandoning you, my lord.”

  Trying to convey to her with only a smile and his eyes that he’d be watching out for her, Freddy nodded. “Of course not, my dear. I know you wish to become further acquainted with my cousin. He was, after all, quite close to your brother.”

  She nodded. “I knew you’d understand,” she said. “Now, shall we go chat, Sir Gerard?”

  Freddy was amused to see that his cousin would be forced to descend from his throne in order to walk with Leonora to the chairs. Gerard was a bit on the short side, so Freddy guessed he’d chosen the height of the chair to give him a sense of power. But when he stepped down, he proved to be half a head shorter than Leonora.

  Neither Gerard nor Leonora remarked upon it, however. “Cousin, I hope you will enjoy yourself while you are here. I promise to take excellent care of your betrothed.”

  Something in the other man’s eyes made Freddy want to pry his hand from Leonora’s arm and run away with her. But instead he nodded and watched them cross the room.

  * * *

  “I am so pleased to have a moment to give you my condolences in person, Miss Craven,” Gerard said as he led her to the corner he’d chosen for their chat.

  She couldn’t help but notice that the fireplace was quite ornate, an exquisite carved marble. But when she looked closer she saw that what she’d at first thought were cherubs were in fact satyrs engaged in just the sort of things one might imagine satyrs would get up to.

  To her embarrassment, Gerard noted the direction of her gaze and smirked. “You are not the first lady to be drawn to those carvings, my dear,” he said silkily. “I feel sure any number of gentlemen would be happy to show you precisely how to reenact the satyrs’ frolics in the flesh.”

  Unsaid was that he himself would be the first in line, but the desire hovered in the air between them. Leonora felt her stomach roil at Gerard’s undisguised lust. Especially when his cousin, her betrothed, was only a few feet away. She had known he was bold, but she hadn’t quite realized how bold until now.

  “I thank you for the compliment,” she said coolly, wishing she were a man so that she could call him out—both for insulting her, and for killing her brother. “However, as you well know, I am betrothed. And as you also know, this subject is entirely inappropriate for an unmarried lady and a married gentleman. If you have no care for your cousin, you must at least have some respect for my brother, who counted you among his friends.”

  Though she hadn’t expected Gerard to respond with a quick apology, or embarrassment, she was surprised by his gleeful laughter.

  “My dear, Miss Craven,” he said, gasping for breath. “You should see your face. I vow you look quite ferocious. Just like my old nanny when I was a boy. I hope my cousin knows just what he’s getting himself into.”

  Not deigning to respond to her host’s strange mirth, Leonora waited until he was finished with his fit and said, “I believe you wished to talk to me about my brother?”

  Wiping his eyes, Gerard calmed himself, and smiled sheepishly. “That wasn’t well done of me, was it? I’m afraid I let your responses get the better of me. Pray, forgive me, Miss Craven.” He placed his hand over his breast as he had done earlier. It must be something he did frequently, she thought. “It was devilish of me to behave so. Especially when you are so clearly overset by the loss of your brother. You were twins, were you not?”

  Unsure of what he would do next, Leonora nodded slowly. “We were twins. Though we were quite different in any number of ways.”

  “Indeed,” Sir Gerard said, stroking a finger over his chin. “You, the thinker, the poet, and Jonathan, the doer, the driver. Opposite sides of the same coin, it would seem.”

  “If that is how you wish to see it,” she said, wondering what he was getting at.

  “I only mean to say, Miss Craven,” Gerard said with a smile, “that you were very different from one another. You, for instance, would never betray a friend. Would you?”

  A jolt of surprise, then anger shot through her. “Are you implying that my brother would have?” she asked softly, keeping her voice low lest the rest of the roo
m hear them.

  Gerard shrugged. “Not in as many words, my dear. Only that your brother was possessed of a moral code that was—how can I put this delicately?—not quite as strong as yours.”

  “You know nothing about me,” she said hotly.

  “Do not be angry with me, Miss Craven, I implore you. I only meant that if your brother had been more careful about things. If he hadn’t been so determined to win at any cost, he might still be alive today.”

  So that was it, she fumed. He was accusing Jonny of cheating in the race that took his life. She knew the accusation was absurd, but even so she felt the sting of outrage as it curdled in her gut. “My brother would not race at all if he could not race honorably,” she said through her teeth. “Something you would know since he spent most of the past year and a half in your company.”

  “Oh, I never said he wasn’t honorable,” Gerard said with a thoughtful stare. “Only that he was willing to do whatever it took to win. And sometimes that meant risking things that weren’t his to risk.”

  “You speak in riddles, Sir Gerard,” she said, unable to endure another minute of his cross talk. “Either my brother cheated or he did not. Either he caused his own death or he did not.”

  “I rather fear, Miss Craven, it’s more complicated than that,” Gerard said, rising and offering her his hand. Which she refused. “Suit yourself. It was a pleasure speaking to you. I believe you’ll make an excellent match for my cousin. I believe he too has a very strong sense of right and wrong. You may be very happy looking down your noses at us mere mortals.”

  When he was gone, Leonora took a moment to calm her nerves. She could hear the dance end on the floor behind her and was grateful for the diversion. She wasn’t quite sure what she’d expected from Sir Gerard, but it hadn’t been outright accusations against Jonny. Though he’d never come right out and said what it was he thought Jonny had done.

  One thing she knew for a fact was that Gerard was more than aware that Jonathan had learned something about the club leader. Something illegal, and perhaps even immoral.

  They were on the right track, she thought with relief. Now more than ever she was convinced of Gerard’s guilt in the matter.

  Rising, she went to seek out Freddy.

  * * *

  “He won’t do anything to her while you’re watching,” Lady Fincher said from where she’d slipped up beside him. “At least nothing overtly insulting. He’s much more careful than that, my husband. He’s a coward at heart, and would rather not die in a duel if he can help it.”

  Surprised by her candor, Frederick turned to look at his hostess. “I suppose you’ve seen this sort of thing before?”

  “More times than I can say,” she said, slipping her arm through his and leading him toward a group of guests. “He has always had a wandering eye, but I do wish he would not hunt in his own preserves. It leads to unpleasantness among the club members. Though at first they seem eager enough to please their leader. Even if it means giving over their wives and sweethearts to him. Not like you, my lord.”

  “Did I seem so aloof, then?” Freddy asked, accepting a glass of brandy from a footman.

  “Let us call it instead,” Lady Fincher said, lifting her own glass in a silent toast, “possessiveness. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, my lord. Indeed, it’s quite admirable in a newly betrothed gentleman.”

  Before he could comment on her assessment, they reached the other guests. “I’m sure you all know Lord Frederick Lisle,” Lady Fincher said by way of introduction.

  Lord Hastings, a hard-faced viscount whom Freddy knew a little from their school days, nodded. “My condolences, old fellow. I mean to avoid the parson’s mousetrap for as long as I’m able. Though one could do worse than the lovely Miss Craven, despite her ridiculous poetry.”

  “I quite like her poetry.” This was said by a blowsy lady whose cheeks seemed to indicate she’d already had quite a bit of champagne. “It’s lovely and decadent. Quite the thing if you’re trying to woo the ladies, Lord Hastings,” she said with a glance at the man that suggested she’d not be unamused should he try such a thing with her.

  “Her brother was quite proud of it,” Lady Fincher said with a solemnity that surprised Frederick. He’d not suspected the lady of possessing any great sentimentality. “He spoke of her quite often.”

  “A shame about his death,” Frederick said, hoping the others would join in the conversation. “Were any of you there that day?”

  “I was,” the other gentleman in the group, Lord Payne, said. “It was a damned shame. Jonny was one of the best whips I’ve ever seen. Don’t know how he could have made such a mistake. Not when his wits were about him, at any rate. He would never have taken that turn like that. Even if there was a—”

  He broke off as Lady Fincher touched him on the arm. “I’m sure we don’t need to rehash the details, Lord Payne,” she said sharply. “Especially as I believe Lord Frederick was a good friend of Mr. Craven’s.”

  To Frederick’s surprise the other man paled at the admonition. Interesting, he thought. So Lady Fincher wielded just as much power within the group as her husband did.

  The sound of clapping as the dance ended gave Freddy a reason to excuse himself and seek out Leonora. He didn’t think his cousin would try anything untoward in a room full of other people, but he did not like leaving her alone with him for longer than he could help.

  To his surprise, he found that either she or Gerard had ended their tête-à-tête a little early, and Leonora was deep in conversation with a pretty redhead near the fireplace.

  “This is my betrothed, Lord Frederick Lisle,” Leonora told the other woman as she took Freddy’s arm. “He was good friends with my brother and would never betray a confidence.”

  An odd way to begin a conversation, Freddy thought as he greeted the matron.

  “Freddy, this is Lady Payne,” Leonora told him, her eyes bright with excitement. “She was there the day that Jonny was killed.” There was much more to the story than that, Frederick knew, but she dare not speak it aloud in this room full of possible suspects.

  “I’d better go back to my husband,” Lady Payne said with a tight smile. “He begins to wonder if I’m away from his side for too long. And I feel sure he’ll want to dance.”

  When she was gone, Leonora turned to Frederick. “I have much to tell you.”

  “You’ve been busy,” he said with a smile. “I only spoke to a few people before I came over here and it would seem you’ve already gathered more intelligence than I did in half the time.”

  “I saw you speaking with Lady Melisande,” Leonora said, leading him to the corner where she’d conversed with Gerard. “And those club members. I feel sure you learned quite a bit.”

  “In a minute,” he said. “I am on tenterhooks to know what my cousin was so eager to tell you.”

  “He has quite the wandering eye,” she said in a low voice. “I don’t think there is a lady here whose bosom he hasn’t ogled.”

  “He always did have a taste for the ladies,” Frederick responded, grateful for the privacy afforded by the corner. It would not do to have Leonora’s disparagement of their host overheard. “But did you learn anything about Jonathan?”

  “He was quite sympathetic about Jonny’s accident,” she replied easily, though there was something in her eyes that made him think she was keeping something about her conversation with his cousin to herself. “But I’m sure he knows something more about what happened. He seemed to blame the accident on my brother doing something untoward in order to win the race. Like cheating or sabotaging the other carriage.”

  “What?” Freddy demanded with a scowl. “He called Jonathan a cheater?”

  Leonora shifted uncomfortably. “Not exactly. It was not something he said explicitly, but I definitely got the idea that he was trying to blacken Jonny’s good name to me. Perhaps in an effort to hide his own misconduct. I’m not sure precisely. But it was not a comfortable conversation.”

  Qui
ckly she told Freddy about Gerard’s conduct during their talk. The accusations, the laughter, and how he’d left her so abruptly. She did not tell him about the satyrs. As much as she wished to see Sir Gerard Fincher punished for his bad manners, she did not wish for Freddy to call him out. Because she was not quite sure that Sir Gerard had any honor at all. And would do whatever it took to escape punishment for his misdeed. Even if it meant killing a blood relative.

  “I am shocked he spoke so freely, though I somehow do not think that my cousin holds much faith in the intellect of the female sex,” Frederick said apologetically. “It has nothing to do with you. He simply doesn’t think about women that way.”

  “Somewhat surprising since his wife is quite cunning,” Leonora said, her brows raised. “But perhaps it is just women who are not Melisande whom he thinks of as imbeciles.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Frederick noticed that on the dance floor behind them, the couples were not adhering in any way or fashion to the rules that Almack’s had set forth regarding the distance between partners in the waltz.

  But then, this was hardly the sort of crowd that would value the opinions of the patronesses of Almack’s.

  “Do you get the feeling, Freddy,” Leonora said, her eyes widening as she spied a couple kissing openly amid the other dancers, “that this party isn’t quite … proper?”

  Since another couple were about as close as they could be without the interference of clothing between them, Frederick agreed with her assessment. “I think it’s time for us to get a bit of air,” he said, deciding that it would do her reputation better to be found with him in an empty chamber than to be seen among these dancers. “Come on.”

  Taking her by the hand, he led Leonora from the room and toward the hallway.

  Seven

  Her mind awhirl with the memory of the amorous couples on the dance floor, Leonora felt her heart beat faster as she followed Freddy from the drawing room, his hand warm as it clasped hers.