“You might fall pregnant after what we’ve just done.” He was moving on, trying another tack.
She’d been married for five years and only fallen pregnant once. That had ended in disaster and she doubted she would conceive again. But a slight possibility remained. Enough for her to make him a promise with a clear conscience. “If I find I’m with child, then I’ll marry you.”
“You realize I wouldn’t have made love to you if I’d known you meant to decline my offer.”
His soft tones held menace, or maybe it was anger. She had to take care. “I just wanted you and for the next couple of days I’m nobody and nothing. I’ll go back to Cumbria and if I promise to let you know, then you can be sure I will.”
She bit her lip, tasting him on her skin. Alex had been there, touched her lips, kissed them.
He touched her mouth, stroked her skin reverently. “Sleep. I’ve exhausted you. We’ll talk about this later.”
Sleeping in his arms sounded like heaven. Exhaustion took her in a great wave, and she had no choice. Securely tucked in his arms, she let herself drift into a dreamless slumber.
Alex hadn’t meant to sleep, but it couldn’t have been more than an hour or two. When she tried to move, he awoke immediately, alerted by the tension in her muscles. He drew her closer, spread his hand over that addictive satin skin, indulged himself in a caress before he urged her to roll on to her back and rose on one elbow above her. Perhaps he could catch her unaware, while she was still fuddled with sleep and his lovemaking.
“Marry me, Connie.”
“No.”
He pushed away, rolling to the edge of the bed and sitting up. “I won’t let you go and I won’t give in.”
He grimaced, his head hanging before he lifted it and turned and faced her once more. He would make it right for her. “I’m starting the campaign today. I mean to ruin Dankworth for what he did to you. Half society saw me buy you and bear you off last night but what else could I do? I couldn’t leave you there. He wanted someone to take you and boast about it. Think of this. Another idea. I shall say that we secretly married and that last night was nothing more than a prank gone wrong. A prank between a married couple.”
“No, Alex. What couple would do something like that? Her parading in front of a room full of men to be sold?”
He raised a sardonic brow. “You’d be surprised. It happens. If we thought we’d appeared at a private club, it would be acceptable, if not approved of.”
“I cannot.”
“You’re probably right.” She wasn’t, but he didn’t want her to push him so far away that he couldn’t come back. Anger simmered inside him, with her for refusing to let him help her, for himself for not moving against Dankworth earlier, against the man who would have destroyed everything this lovely woman deserved, and would have, if he had anything to do with it.
He grabbed his clothes and began to dress rapidly. He sat on the side of the bed to pull up his stockings and fasten the buckles at his knees. The sunlight glanced over the cut steel with dazzling sparks of light. “Meantime, think on this.”
He bent to kiss her and cup one of her breasts. She returned his embrace eagerly, giving him ideas he should not have right now. He had matters to discuss, arrangements to set in place, plans to make. “We will find a way through this and I will not give up. I’ll court you, Connie.”
“No, you can’t. I won’t let you.”
He ignored her protest and drew away to finish dressing. He grabbed his neckcloth, allowing himself a moment of violence against the man who had harmed her so badly. He would shock her into accepting his help if he couldn’t do it any other way. God save him from a chivalrous woman.
He wrapped the cloth around his neck, tying it with a few swift, expert strokes without consulting the mirror hanging on the wall.
“You might not like to hear it, Connie, but you’ll need protection at this time, or you’ll find yourself with nothing. Dankworth will still try to discredit you. He’s a desperate man. Do you want to know what it’s like to live alone, without a good name or a penny to call your own?” He faced her, perfectly still. “Now is your chance to find out. This is a high-class brothel and many of the girls who work here are respectably born. Talk to them. Ask them questions. See if you can stomach the idea of what they do.”
She picked up a silver brush. Before she could throw it at him, he grabbed his coat and left the room.
Chapter 11
If Alex did what every nerve in his body screamed at him to do, he’d go straight to White’s, find Dankworth and force a confrontation right there. If he saw Dankworth now, he’d kill him.
Connie’s unexpected rejection of his suit had infuriated him. But when he’d come to his senses he’d realized he had to be some kind of coxcomb, if he thought one bout of lovemaking would persuade her.
If they were married, he could act for her and his powerful family would protect her. He could ride out a storm. Instead of hunting Dankworth down like the dog he was, Alex decided to make a call on Julius. He needed someone with a cool head to stop him doing something rash.
He took a hackney to Brook Street and was relieved to discover the knocker gleaming brightly on the door. That meant they were in residence. Alex strode to the door and rapped on it.
“Is he in?” he demanded, striding into the hall as soon as the door opened.
The butler, Watson, bowed and took Alex’s hat. “I will see if his lordship is at home, my lord.”
Alex rolled his eyes but let Watson walk to Julius’s book room at the back of the hall. After a brief consultation, he returned. “Would you go through, my lord?”
Julius glanced up from his place behind his desk and rose.
“Is it too early for brandy?” Alex demanded.
“Looking at your face, I’d say not. You’re looking a trifle hagged, dear boy.” He handed Alex a glass of fragrant brandy.
Alex took a seat in a wide leather chair and downed the contents of the glass thankfully, savoring the warmth it brought. Infinitesimally, he relaxed, partly the result of the spirit and partly the influence of this room, a strongly masculine one with leather chairs and dark mahogany furniture in a no-nonsense solid style. Dark green curtains hung at the window and a picture of the Kirkburton family seat on the wall above the fireplace, which was presently filled with a comfortably glowing fire.
“So what has put you in such an agitated frame of mind?” Julius raised an elegant brow. Many people made the mistake of thinking Julius Winterton’s porcelain complexion and fine features, not to mention his extravagant taste in fashion, made him some kind of weakling but he disabused them of that notion with reasonable ease. If he wanted to.
“I came here instead of killing Jasper Dankworth.”
Julius nodded. “The man is becoming a nuisance. More than a nuisance.” He frowned. “What’s this story about his fiancée from the country appearing in London?”
Alex’s heart sank. Too late, too late. “How widespread is the news?”
“All over White’s, which means it’ll be all over town by nightfall. Scurrilous gossip, getting worse every time it’s repeated. No matter that Mrs. Rattigan is a little-known lady, the story has caught the fancies of our most notable gossips. Walpole is making hay with it. His wit knows no bounds.” He took a sip from his own glass. “None.”
Alex swore, after which he brought Julius up to date, sparing him nothing except the intimacies he’d shared with Connie. He described the scene at the brothel well enough to make Julius toss the remainder of his drink down his throat and reach for the decanter.
When Julius was angry, his lips thinned and his face paled to porcelain white. He was angry now. Julius wasn’t just Alex’s cousin, he was his best friend and he would trust him with his life. If anyone could help, Julius could.
“I like your plan to send her home,” he said. “Except it’s too late now. The cat is well and truly out of the bag. If we don’t do something about it, Constance Rattigan will h
ave a reputation so black they’ll even reject her in Cumbria. Do you have an alternative? You know I’ll give you every support.”
Whatever it cost him. Yes, Alex knew that and it was a measure of their friendship that he’d do the same, without hesitation. “I went to Lloyds yesterday and dropped the information that Dankworth was a bad risk. Or hinted at it. The gentlemen of the City prefer to discover information for themselves. Today I plan to visit to Doctor’s Commons.”
Julius raised his brows. “Rather extreme, Alex?”
“I want the lady and if I have a special license in hand, once I can persuade her, we may do the deed quickly and become man and wife before the week is out. No one will refuse her then.” He would never have made love to her without being sure of his intention to marry her. It was her refusal that had thrown him off course.
“So you’re getting wed because you compromised the lady by bearing her off?”
“Not entirely.” Alex said no more. He didn’t have to, with the perceptive Julius.
His cousin sipped his refilled brandy and put down the glass, never taking his attention from Alex’s face. “You interest me strangely.”
“She won’t have me.”
Julius’s mouth curled in a slow smile. “You interest me even more. She sounds like a woman of character.”
Alex grimaced. “You could say that. She’s being naïve. It will take all the influence I can scare up to face this scandal down but I will do it.”
Julius studied him in silence, a faint frown creasing the skin between his brows. Alex wished Julius’s eyes weren’t quite such a vivid blue. It made that perceptive stare all the worse to bear, but he’d had more practice than most. He bore it. His cousin was thinking.
“Bring her here,” Julius said abruptly.
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“You’ll be doing us a favor. I have my own problems, Alex.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yesterday we lost the chaperonage of Aunt Amelia. Aunt Frederica has fallen ill so Aunt Amelia rushed off to attend her, leaving Helena alone here.” His fine features hardened. “Aunt Frederica has nothing too serious, I assure you.”
Aunt Frederica took great pleasure in detailing her many and varied illnesses. “So she lured Aunt Amelia away from town?” And Helena, being single, could not live in her brother’s household without a chaperone to escort her.
“I suspect it was a touch more sinister than that. My mother is determined to get Helena back. My esteemed parent has decided that Helena will attend her in her old age.” She had done everything possible to deny Helena her rights in society until Julius had taken a hand and brought her to live with him.
“I will prevent it,” Julius said smoothly. “I was about to look about for someone to act as a chaperone when you came visiting. Would Helena like your Constance?”
Alex didn’t hesitate. “Yes, I’m sure she would. Mrs. Rattigan is a woman of good sense and she has a cheerful disposition.”
“You make her sound like a candidate for housekeeper.”
Perhaps he’d withdrawn his interest a little too much. “And damned beautiful. She’s a widow, not straight out of the schoolroom, so a perfectly acceptable chaperone. And she has an unfortunate sense of humor,” he said with feeling, remembering the incident at the Downhollands’ with the dusty books.
“Helena would like that.”
Yes, she would. Alex grinned. “Mrs. Rattigan might not be as well dressed as you might expect. Her luggage was lost at the inn when we arrived. I suspect the bawd took it and sold the contents, or they were dispersed when the mob wrecked the house.”
“Then we’ll ensure she’s dressed appropriately. Does she have a maid?”
“I have the maid she brought with her in my house, using another name. When I thought Dankworth planned to kill Connie, I thought he might seek the maid out as the only witness to his intended perfidy.”
Julius took another sip of his brandy and waved the decanter at Alex. Both men had extremely hard heads and it would take more than a couple of snifters of brandy to render either of them incapable in any way. Alex pushed his glass forward for a refill.
“Excellent,” Julius said. “Then we have a plan. Put the maid and some luggage together—no matter if it’s an empty trunk, just fill it with books or something and take her to the Belle Sauvage. That place is busy enough to cover your activities and the landlord owes you a favor. Connie has only been in London for, what, three days? It’s easy to lose three days on the road, especially on such a long journey. She could have taken ill, or stopped her journey to visit a relative. Make sure you make a fuss, and that people know she’s arrived.”
Yes, he could do that. He had the landlord in his pocket. Then Connie could enter London respectably. “You would look after her?”
“Tell me something, Alex. Just to satisfy my rampant curiosity. You say you mean to marry her and intimate that she rejected you. That in itself is enough to excite my pique.”
Alex gritted his teeth. Did his cousin have to be so damned clever with words? The double entendre was delicate but assuredly there.
“Are your interests in her more than mere expedience? Or revenge on Dankworth?”
“That, sir, is none of your business.”
“I see.” Julius took a long sip from his glass, watching Alex the whole time then a sudden smile split his features. “Damned Dankworths. They’re playing Cupid now.”
Alex ignored the Cupid comment. “You spoke to Devereaux? He has his own reasons to detest the Dankworths. He’ll help you.”
“Yes. We are at war with them, as always. Any reason they have resurfaced?” The Dankworths had been remarkably quiet recently, but maybe they were regrouping after their latest conspiratorial failure, the assassination attempt on the King a couple of years ago.
Julius frowned. “Not that I’ve discovered, but there’s bound to be something. And they will strike at us, because our influence is wide-reaching and because we support the status quo. Or rather, we don’t favor a return to absolute rule.” He smiled thinly.
“Do you think this attack on Connie is anything to do with Jasper being a Dankworth?”
“I’m not sure. Let me make some enquires. If he noticed your interest in the beauteous Connie, he’d certainly see that as a way to weaken us.” He put down his empty glass. It hardly made a sound against his desk. Then he pulled a piece of paper out of a drawer and dipped a pen in the standish.
“I won’t tease you any further, until I discover more. Leave that side of the business to me.” He scratched a note. “Back to your side of the business. We will say that Helena and I met your lady at a house party last year and she and Helena have been corresponding ever since, so that when Mrs. Rattigan declared her intention to visit the city, we naturally invited her. Plus, she’s a respectable widow and she may chaperone Helena. That will add credence to your story, because I do not welcome riff-raff into this house.”
“Only people who interest you.”
“Precisely.”
Alex sipped his drink thoughtfully. “I hope you weren’t planning any extravagant entertainments. I thought she could live quietly for a while, and you’d give me a chance to court her.”
“Oh no, we can do better than that,” Julius said gently. He was at his most formidable when he was gentle. Alex’s “We must ensure they are thwarted.”
Alex smiled, the grim determination only a few close friends would have recognized. “Indeed we must.”
Waiting was driving Connie mad. She’d never had so much inactivity in her life but at least she’d had the opportunity to think.
The bawd provided her with clothes and a bath, both of which she received gratefully but she opted to remain upstairs and ate another hearty meal when a maid brought it up to her. The fewer people who saw her in this place, the better.
She spent some time observing the world from her bedroom window. While the house bustled downstairs, the occasional shout telling her they were c
leaning and the girls preparing for the night’s work, Covent Garden transformed from daytime market to evening center of revels. She thought about what happened within these walls every night.
When the house opened men began to gather in the square outside. Not many and some just wanted to stare at the wreck of the house next door. At least Connie assumed it was a wreck but she couldn’t see it. Nobody had set fire to it.
She couldn’t remember her sojourn there clearly, however hard she tried, except in flashes of memory, elusive snatches of visions that eluded her when she tried to chase them, like that vision of her on the auction block. It scared her to know that people like that existed and they could take control of her so completely.
With a scrape of bolts and a clang, the front door opened and the few men below, the early birds, began to enter the establishment. Mrs. Dawkins’s house was open for business. A clock struck three. But Connie didn’t see Alex.
She continued to watch, trying to fool herself that she wasn’t on tenterhooks, not waiting for him.
Eventually a coach drew up and a man alighted. He turned and handed some money to the jarvey, who touched the brim of his hat. When he entered the house, the hackney remained outside.
The man was Alex. The way he moved told her it was he. Already she knew him so well. He made her heart ache, although she refused to allow it to affect her judgments. At least, she’d try her best.
But when he knocked on the door and called her name, softly, in case anyone heard, she flew across the room and turned the key in the lock. He entered with eagerness and then she was in his arms and he was kissing her. She opened her mouth to him eagerly and just as eagerly he took her invitation, holding her close enough that the hardness of his erection pressed through all their layers of clothing.
Losing her mind was so easy with him. She’d allow it once, this once.
“We can’t take long,” he muttered, “But by God, I need you, Connie.” Already he was grabbing her skirts, lifting them and she helped him, hoisting them out of the way, tucking them under her arms and behind her. Getting him out of his breeches took less time. He lifted her.
Rogue in Red Velvet Page 14
