He’d fight to keep Ellie, just as he’d been fighting for ten years to make the government of England more equitable. To see that it responded to the wishes and needs of all its citizens, not just the wealthy few who had controlled power for centuries. So that all hard-working men—and eventually women—would have a voice in determining their destiny.
Then why was he letting the choice of his heart be dictated by the strictures of the same small, closed group into which he had been born, but with whom he’d scarcely associated since his entry into Parliament? Dismissing the idea of marrying Ellie without really considering it, because Society dictated she was unfit to be his wife? Letting himself be subtly prejudiced against her, acquiescing in the ton’s opinion that she wasn’t worthy to be his wife.
When, in the depths of his heart, he knew there was no one more worthy to fill his life, his heart and his bed than the woman he now acknowledged he loved, fully and completely.
Society would ostracise them—but since he’d almost never attended Society functions, that would scarcely bother him. The guests at the political dinners that did matter to him—like Lord Witlow’s ‘discussion evenings’—came from all backgrounds and walks of life, and Ellie had already been welcomed there.
He had a brief moment of hesitation when he considered how marrying a former courtesan might affect their children. But unlike his mother, who had continued her scandalous life all through the years he was growing up, Ellie’s situation before they wed would be overwritten by years of faithful marriage and effective work as a political wife long before their children grew old enough to understand any gossip about her. They need only ignore the whispers—and besides, a little adversity made one stronger. It had him, hadn’t it?
Dismissing that doubt, he moved to a more troubling one: would the Hellions approve his decision? He thought so—Davie and Faith had also defied Society to marry. But hurtful as it would be to forfeit their friendship, if it came to a choice between winning Ellie and losing the Hellions, he had to choose Ellie.
He hoped it wouldn’t come to that. But first he had to find, and persuade, Ellie—who had been indoctrinated from birth as thoroughly as he had to believe herself no longer worthy of his hand—that he thought her not just equal, but superior, to any Virtuous Virgin he might ever meet. And that marriage was the only answer for them both.
* * *
Arriving at Dean Street, after instructing the driver to wait, Christopher bounded up the stairs and knocked on the door. Then returned to the carriage a moment later, after Jensen assured him they hadn’t seen Ellie since they stopped by the previous evening.
Surely she wouldn’t have been reckless enough to return to her unprotected house? Still, worry gnawed at him as he gave the driver that direction and hopped back into the coach, consumed with urgency to see her.
What exactly had she said when she wrote him goodbye? He wished now he hadn’t burned her note. There’d been something about his being prepared and her job being done. He knew she’d not mentioned anything about their night together, or the warmth, laughter and enjoyment of their lessons, an omission which had struck him on the raw.
But the more he considered it, the more he realised that, given the character of the woman he loved, the very coldness of the language indicated not a lack of feeling, but rather a need to conceal it.
As the carriage bowled along, he recalled she’d written something else about ending for good any temptation to delay his quest, a phrase he’d skimmed over the moment his eyes saw the ‘goodbye’ penned at the ending.
End the temptation for good? What could she have meant by that?
A few minutes later, the jarvey pulled up at Hans Place, but his stop here was equally brief. His relief at having her staff confirm she’d not returned home was offset by a deepening worry over where in fact she had gone.
Given her previous protests about not wishing to intrude, he hadn’t thought she would go to Maggie’s without his escort—but that must be where she’d sheltered. Where else could she go?
Returning once more to the carriage, he had the driver set off for Upper Brook Street. Dismissing the jarvey, he paced the parlour to which Dawkins showed him while he waited for Maggie.
Trying to mask his urgency under a veneer of courtesy, he speeded to the door the moment she entered. ‘Hello, Christopher! What an unexpected pleasure.’
But the veneer mustn’t have been very convincing, for after a single glance at his face, her smile faded. ‘What is it? What’s happened?’
‘Nothing, I’m sure,’ he replied against the nagging apprehension in his gut. ‘I just wanted to stop by and see how Ellie is doing.’
‘Ellie? She’s not here, Christopher. Didn’t you escort her to the school last night?’
So sure was he that she must be with Maggie, he had no glib answer prepared to explain her whereabouts the previous evening. When he hesitated, not sure whether or not to reveal the truth, Maggie said sharply, ‘You did escort her to the school, didn’t you? Surely you didn’t send her home alone!’
‘No, of course not. I wouldn’t let her go to the school—or home—without protection. But after we arrived there, Jensen pointed out it might put the girls in danger if she were to remain at the school, should the ones who attacked her trace her there. We determined it would be safer for her to overnight...elsewhere.’
‘Elsewhere?’
‘I intended to bring her back here after she’d gone home to collect her things. But by that time, it was late, and in your delicate condition, she didn’t want to disturb you. So... I took her back to Mount Street.’
Maggie gave him a penetrating look. ‘Where she spent the night. After which somehow you’ve managed to misplace her?’
He felt his face flush. ‘She left before I woke. I had...some matters to take care of, and intended to seek her out this afternoon,’ he improvised. ‘I thought she’d go to the school. But she isn’t there, she hasn’t been home—and you say you’ve not seen her either.’
‘After being attacked yesterday, she’s been travelling about since this morning without any protection? Christopher, how could you have permitted it?’
Maggie couldn’t excoriate him any more harshly than he did himself. How could he have failed to check on her, despite his hurt and dismay? Even if he believed she didn’t want to see him again, he should have made sure she was safe before haring off to that reception in a self-righteous rage. ‘I agree, it was thoughtless and inexcusable, so you may save your wrath. I’ll keep looking. It just occurred to me that she might have gone to my mother.’
‘Or to Aunt Lilly. If you’ll wait a few moments, I’ll call the carriage for us and get my wrap.’
‘Should you be bouncing about in a carriage now?’ he asked, with a gesture towards her thickening body.
‘Better that then waiting here, not knowing. I’ll be fine. And if I’m not, you deserve having me get sick all over you for not taking better care of Ellie.’
* * *
After increasing their anxiety when their first stop revealed Ellie had not called on Lady Sayleford, both felt vastly relieved when their consultation with Christopher’s mother confirmed that Ellie had, in fact, visited her earlier that afternoon.
‘She was most upset—for which you are almost surely responsible,’ his mother said to Christopher after seeing a queasy Maggie to a chair and sending for chamomile tea. ‘No, she didn’t tell me what you did. But I know it’s your fault.’
Two sets of feminine eyes looked at him accusingly. Though he didn’t want to confess the whole, he was honest enough to take responsibility for the debacle. ‘Yes, I’m sure it’s my fault.’
‘I knew it!’ Lady Vraux sputtered. ‘When I told her I feared she might do something desperate, she replied, only half-jokingly, that to preserve her sanity, she might have to turn her back on everythin
g she’d vowed. Now what, I ask you, did she mean by that?’
Christopher was about to protest that he had no idea when the most unpalatable suspicion struck him. Tempted beyond bearing to accept the offer of carte blanche he would surely have made, had she still been in his bed when he woke, certain that beguiling him into renouncing marriage would ruin his career, and still in need of protection from the villains threatening her, there was one other place she might go.
Where, after turning her back on her solemn vow never to become a kept woman again, she would be swept beyond the reach of the villains—and beyond his.
‘There is somewhere else she might have gone. But by heaven, if she did refuge there, it won’t be for long. Mama, will you see Maggie returns safely home after she’s rested? I must leave at once.’
Anguished, almost beyond control with rage, jealousy and dismay at the idea of her with another man and remorse that his own stupidity might have forced her to it, he ran down the stairs and out to the hackney stand, telling the driver to spring ’em to Brook Street—and the home of Lord Mountgarcy.
Short as the transit was, he had ample time to reflect on what it would mean if Ellie had indeed given herself to another man. Before taking so agonising a step, she would have closed her heart to any chance of a future between them. Once she was known as Mountgarcy’s mistress, she would feel certain Christopher would never look to her again.
He would marry her anyway, and damn the consequences. But to have a better chance of convincing her that wedding him was possible, he needed to find her before any potential understanding with the Viscount became known.
She might not agree to see him. To protect her from him and the Gentleman, she might even have had Mountgarcy take her out of London. The Viscount would lose no time returning to crow about his conquest, Christopher knew. With no idea where to find Ellie, he might truly lose her for good.
He thought he’d been devastated when he read her note. The idea of losing her for ever was so horrifying, it stripped him bare to the soul.
His work, his projects in Parliament, his friendships—everything fell away when he considered a life without Ellie. Without her, nothing else held meaning. Whatever it took, he must find her and woo his way back into her heart.
Any other outcome was unthinkable.
At Brook Street he met with frustration again, for the Viscount’s minions denied that any lady had visited the house and insisted his lordship was not at home. But when he advanced upon the butler, the urge to strangle doubtless reflected in his eyes, the man revealed that his master had gone to spend the evening at Brooks’s.
Once again, he went careening in a hackney, this time back to St. James’s Street and into Brooks’s, where he demanded to see Lord Mountgarcy. Directed to the card room, he found his quarry playing whist.
‘Mountgarcy, I must speak with you at once.’
The Viscount looked up with his usual languid air. Though he didn’t seem surprised to see him, Christopher could not discern from his voice or manner whether or not the man knew why he’d sought him out.
‘Good evening to you, too, Lattimar. Can this urgent matter wait until I’ve finished this hand?’
Though he wanted to snap back a negative, no sense rousing more curiosity than his precipitous entrance had already generated. He gave the Viscount a short nod.
A few minutes later, adding the winnings to the stack in front of him, the Viscount rose. ‘Keep the chair for me. It’s been lucky this evening.’
He followed Christopher into the deserted reading room. ‘So, what is it that has you invading Brooks’s with this air of desperation?’
‘Has Ellie Parmenter come to you?’ he asked, too anxious for polite preliminaries.
‘Ellie come to me?’ Mountgarcy repeated, the surprise on his face too genuine to doubt. ‘I only wish!’ He narrowed his gaze on Christopher. ‘Surely you’ve not misplaced the elegant Miss Parmenter.’
Christopher studied him, wanting to be sure. ‘You are telling the truth, aren’t you?’
‘Why would I lie? Had the divine Ellie sought me out, I’d be boasting of that good fortune to everyone. Especially you.’
Which was doubtless correct. The Viscount gave him a mocking smile Christopher itched to punch off his face. ‘Does this sudden wrath indicate a quarrel? Perhaps there is an opportunity here.’
‘Don’t even consider it. Ellie belongs with me, and I intend to marry her.’
‘Marry her?’ the Viscount echoed, the mockery shocked off his face. ‘Your mind must truly be disordered to contemplate such an outrage. You’d be ruined! And never be allowed to set foot in this club again.’
‘Then I wouldn’t ever have to speak with you again, would I? Good evening.’ With that, Christopher turned on his heel and walked out.
As relieved as he was that she had not fled to Mountgarcy, his worry over Ellie’s welfare intensified. She must be safe, he told himself, trying to ratchet down the fear. His mother had seen her in mid-afternoon. Of all the places she might have gone after that, Maggie’s was the most logical. He’d return there first.
Calling back the hackney, he endured the short drive with mounting impatience. He was rushing up the entry stairs at Upper Brook Street when Giles came out to meet him.
‘Relax, Christopher! We have Ellie safe. You and Maggie must have just missed her at your mother’s.’
Christopher took a deep breath, relief making him light-headed. ‘Praise Heaven!’
‘You look like you could stand a brandy. Shall we?’
‘I’d love one, but later. First, I need to see Ellie.’
Giles gave him a troubled look. ‘I’ll...ask if she’ll see you, but she seemed very upset. It might be wiser to wait.’
‘I need to see her now,’ Christopher said flatly, just as Maggie walked into the hallway.
‘Oh, you do, do you?’ she said, fire in her eyes. ‘Really, Christopher, haven’t you hurt her enough? And before you ask, no, she didn’t tell me what happened. But you admitted she’d spent the night in your rooms. Given the fact that one could light a taper from the sparks in the air when you two are together, it doesn’t take a logician to deduce what happened. You wretch! Couldn’t you have taken her somewhere else—anywhere else? You know she never wanted to become...that again—not even for you! I never thought I’d have to say this to any of my husband’s friends, but I must ask you to leave.’
‘You can throw me out, but one way or another, I will see her, Maggie,’ Christopher said, holding his ground. ‘And I am going to marry her.’
Shock registered on both Giles and Maggie’s faces. ‘Marry her!’ Giles exclaimed.
‘Yes. I hope you won’t oppose me, but if you do, so be it. I will see Ellie, and I intend to do whatever it takes to convince her to marry me.’
To his consternation, Maggie burst into tears—then came over and hugged him. Patting her back awkwardly, he said, ‘Does this excess of sentiment mean you approve?’
‘Oh, yes! And also that I’m increasing, which seems to make me fall victim to the most extreme emotions. Society won’t receive either of you, but what do any of us care about that? Ellie’s endured so much, and I’ve come to love her so dearly! Marrying her will make her a part of our circle for ever. I couldn’t be happier about it!’
Heartened, Christopher looked over to find Giles grinning at him. ‘Never did believe the greatest rakehell among us would be content to wed some mealy-mouthed virgin.’
‘You sound like Mama.’ Enormously pleased that his friends approved of his plans for Ellie, Christopher handed Maggie over to her husband. ‘Now, it just remains to convince the lady.’
‘Which will be no mean task,’ Maggie told him tartly. ‘She’s wounded and despairing and loves you so much, she will insist she cannot do anything that will harm you. Don’t expect
her to yield easily!’
Christopher grinned. ‘I’m sure she will not. But yield she will, in the end.’
* * *
To forestall any chance of her refusing to see him, Christopher slipped quietly into the sitting room where Ellie had taken refuge, an open book on her lap. The weary droop of her shoulders and the misery reflected in her far-away gaze stabbed at his heart, sending the opening speech he’d intended right out of his head. Instead, he went over and gathered her in his arms.
‘Ellie, I’m so sorry for all the distress I’ve caused you.’
‘Christopher!’ she cried, starting in surprise—and then clinging to him. For a few precious minutes, he revelled in the warmth and scent and delight of her, his heart turning over at what he’d almost lost. All too soon, doubtless remembering her intention to break with him, she pulled away.
Regretfully, he let her go, vowing that before long, she would be back in his arms—this time for good.
‘I...didn’t expect to see you again,’ she said, looking away as she struggled for composure. ‘I thought I’d said all that was needed in my note. After...what we shared, I knew I wouldn’t have the strength to refuse you. I’m so sorry I tempted you into breaking both our vows. And that I took the coward’s way out, and sent you away with a note, rather than face to face.’
‘Your note said enough to terrify me. I thought...I thought I’d hurt you so badly, and tempted you so cruelly, that you’d gone to Mountgarcy.’
‘I did consider it,’ she admitted. ‘But after I left your mother’s, I realised that if I was to retain any self-respect, I had to face this on my own.’
‘You don’t need to face anything alone, my love. I admit, your leaving me with only a note enraged me, but that turned out to be useful. It made me angry enough to attend Lady Enfield’s reception. Just one session of trying to make myself agreeable to eligible maidens was enough for me to finally realise I don’t belong with any of them. To open my eyes to what I’ve been too stupidly blind to see—that I’ve come to love and cherish you, and cannot imagine spending my life with anyone else.’
Secret Lessons with the Rake Page 22
