A Rogue of My Own

by Johanna Lindsey

  But she heard him call softly after her, “Wait! You haven’t heard my dire warnings!”

  “Keep them,” she shot back. “I wouldn’t believe them anyway.”

  Did he have to laugh at that?

  Chapter Eleven

  A LATE NIGHT FOR YOU?” Nigel asked the following day as he nudged Rupert awake.

  Rupert sat up instantly, furious with himself for having fallen asleep in Nigel’s room, of all places, while he waited for the older man to show up. He couldn’t bear the thought of Nigel standing there looking down at him while he slept, and he had no doubt Nigel had done so.

  The trouble was, Rupert’s current task of investigating the new ladies of the court was simply too easy, which led to boredom. No danger was involved. While he was quite skilled for the task due to his reputation with women, he preferred assignments that involved some risk. He never fell asleep in the middle of the day when he was armed and ready for anything.

  “No,” Rupert answered, and relaxed slightly. “Sitting around here half the day waiting for you put me to sleep. I suppose I could report in the middle of the night, when I can be assured you’re here.”

  “So I must lose sleep when you could have simply left me a note?”

  “There’s the rub, notes in your room are no longer an option,” Rupert replied, unable to stifle a yawn. He shook his head sharply to finish waking up. “Leaving your room open to give me access to it is no longer advisable either, not unless you’re in it.”

  “I’ve been busy, or I would have already had that extra key made for you.”

  “Then keep the door locked until you do. Or do you like having your room searched?”

  The only reason Nigel left his door unlocked was so Rupert wouldn’t have to wait for him in the hall where someone might see him. He didn’t even want the palace servants to link them together in any way. He was fanatic about it. And now Rupert was going to have to confess that someone had indeed found him there.

  But Nigel was amused, drawing the wrong conclusion. “Oh, my, you actually searched my room?”

  “Don’t be absurd. And we might as well get the business at hand out of the way first because the Marly chit is expecting to meet me in the Royal Garden this afternoon.”

  Nigel nodded. “I have another appointment myself, so we can keep this as brief as you like. You’ve drawn new conclusions, I take it?”

  “Yes, two of the new maids are firmly in Sarah’s camp, the same two who fancy themselves in love with me,” Rupert complained with a roll of his eyes.

  “Already?”

  “You expected it to happen?”

  “Don’t be obtuse,” Nigel said. “You know very well women fall in love with you daily. Of course I expected it.”

  Rupert laughed. “A bit of an exaggeration there, eh, old man?”

  “Hardly. Even Sarah Wheeler was in love with you earlier in the year when you turned your charms on her, one of those amazing feats you’re capable of.” Nigel chuckled. “I never understood how you accomplished that, when you said you didn’t have to make love to her.”

  “I convinced her that I found her fascinating in other ways. It doesn’t always have to be about physical attraction, you know. I worked towards friendship. It went on long enough that she began to look beyond that, is all.” Rupert didn’t add that Nigel should know better than anyone else how the stronger emotions could unexpectedly overwhelm a person, which had happened with Sarah. “Friends lower their guard in the same way lovers do, you know.”

  “What about the third young lady?”

  “Constance? She resents Sarah’s ‘errands’ and has taken a firm dislike to the lady because of it. A prime candidate for you, one would think.”

  “There’s a but in that?”

  “Yes, I wouldn’t advise taking advantage of her resentment and trying to lure her to your camp. She doesn’t strike me as very competent. Not much up here”—Rupert tapped his head—“if you know what I mean. As for Lady Elizabeth, I searched her room before she was assigned a new roommate. There was nothing in it but a god-awful lot of clothes. I suppose I’ll have to do so again, now that her roommate has arrived. She complained to me about it last night.”

  “The newest maid of honor to arrive?”

  “That would be my guess and I believe I’ve even met her. But one last thing about Elizabeth. You’ll need to keep an eye on her after I’m gone. She confessed that she caused a scandal to get rid of her last roommate, just so I could visit her in her room if I so chose. She might have resorted to drastic measures because of her infatuation with me, but my instincts tell me that she is completely lacking in morals. So she could bring the same underhanded means to her work for Sarah.”

  “Duly noted. And the last maid you met? Why aren’t you sure she is Elizabeth’s new roommate?”

  Rupert wasn’t about to admit that the chit had distracted him to such an extent that he’d neglected to confirm her name. He couldn’t imagine who else she could be, though, when she’d been invited to the ball last night and admitted her association with Sarah. Despite the costume she’d worn, he had no doubt that she was a lady born.

  “I’m ninety-nine percent sure that she is Rebecca Marshall, who was expected to arrive yesterday. There were too many other things to find out about her, considering how I met her.”

  Nigel raised a curious brow. “Why does that sound ominous?”

  “Because I met her right here as she was rifling through your belongings at Sarah’s behest.”

  Nigel’s scowl was immediate. “So Sarah is turning the ladies under her charge into thieves now? How dare she!”

  “Careful, the rivalry is showing.” Rupert grinned.

  “The devil it is,” Nigel snorted. “We’re talking about stealing. Sarah really is going too far now.”

  Rupert had to laugh at the spymaster’s hypocrisy. “You’ve turned me into a thief on more’n one occasion, so wherein lies the difference?”

  “What you steal is a matter of royal security and you are your own man. You also replace anything you take after examining it. Besides, you could refuse any job you are uncomfortable with. But these are innocent young ladies who don’t know any better.”

  “Would the girl have found any sensitive information?”

  “Not unless you dropped off something prior to her arrival, otherwise I never leave anything of import in here even when the room is locked.”

  “I was dropping off the briefing I just gave you, in written form, but after finding the chit in your room, I decided to deliver an oral report. This maid of honor is smart, and adept, which is why I hesitate to make any rash judgments about her. Her excuse came out too readily and was quite believable, the way she presented it.”

  Nigel sighed. “So she has linked you to me. So much for you being the least bit useful on this assignment, now that Sarah has been informed. She’s likely to want revenge now, too, when she realizes that your friendship with her was a farce to gather information.”

  Rupert steepled his hands and tapped his fingers on his chin a few times before he replied thoughtfully, “I’m not so sure that Sarah was told.”

  “Are you joking?”

  “No, Rebecca Marshall and I had an unusual conversation later at the ball. She claims she gave Sarah a false description of me and didn’t volunteer my name. As you know, I’m too well known to try to use a false name unless I’m in another country.”

  “What reason did she give for protecting you?”

  Rupert was given pause and even frowned. “Protecting me?”

  “Because if you believe her, that’s exactly what she did in keeping your identity from Sarah.”

  “Ah, but there’s the rub, whether to believe her. Keep in mind, I said she’s smart. She’s too quick with her replies not to have more intelligence than I’m used to encountering in these young chits. She’s even quicker to dissemble emotions as needed. She’s actually prime material for you to mold, if she was telling the truth.”
/>   “What do your instincts tell you?”

  “For once, I haven’t a clue,” Rupert admitted with a sigh. “But I’m not going to discount that she could have a knack for lying and artifice. She surprised me a number of times. I’m not used to that happening.”

  “Then what was her reason for not serving you up to Sarah on a platter?”

  “If she really didn’t. She claimed that Sarah had made it sound like you and I are criminals, but she’d prefer to judge for herself.”

  “Meaning she might try to investigate you on her own?” Nigel guessed.

  Rupert chuckled. “That actually sounds like fun.”

  Nigel rolled his eyes. “You’re too used to deceit of that sort, since you practice it yourself. Let’s remember who she is and that she only just arrived at the palace. Sarah’s prime tactic with these young ladies is to make them think everything she does is for the good of the country. Did you assure her that that isn’t the case?”

  “Our conversation didn’t progress that far.”

  “Well, if that’s all last night was about, the chit’s thinking she was doing something noble, then there was no harm done. But before we let this matter rest,” Nigel continued, “confirm her identity. Second, make sure she’s finished with Sarah’s intrigues. Third, draw some damn conclusions about Rebecca Marshall. You know the rules. Whatever it takes is acceptable. If she is as adept at deceit as you say she could be, I don’t want her in the palace. I’ll see that she’s dismissed myself.”

  Rupert had stiffened at the phrase whatever it takes. It brought back his worst memory. Nigel had stressed that phrase when he had enlisted Rupert to aid his country. Rupert had been chosen because the French official they needed information from was a bloody deviant. The man had no interest in women, or men, but he was overly fond of pretty young boys. And he was at the root of a plot to kill the French king and have it blamed on King George IV, which could ultimately have led to war.

  Rupert had been torn by one of the most horrible conflicts anyone, let alone a boy of fourteen, could face, to sacrifice himself or turn his back on his country. He couldn’t agree to do what was being asked of him, yet he would be a coward in his own mind if he refused.

  But he’d figured out how to accomplish the goal without making the sacrifice when he recalled one of his mother’s parlor maids. Earlier that year, the wench had had him all but slobbering at her feet, she had aroused his lust to such a dangerous level. So much teasing, always teasing, but never delivering. Fourteen years of age and new to amour, Rupert had been ready to promise her the world, he’d been so inflamed.

  The wench never did deliver. Neither did Rupert during that assignment. He’d used the maid’s tactics to get the job done. He’d promised, but never delivered.

  Angry with himself for allowing that memory to surface, he stood up to leave. Nigel might have been hard-nosed in telling him to do “whatever it takes,” but Rupert rarely had to resort to that in his work for Nigel. He could use his nobility to his advantage as well as his reputation as a skirt-chaser, as his uncle the Duke of Norford had fondly termed his adoration of women. If a woman expected him to seduce her, well, by all means…

  Nigel should have figured out by now that Rupert would do things his own way, not Nigel’s way. Keeping his anger from showing, Rupert looked directly at the older man and said, “I understand that country comes first. I’ve always understood that. But country can be served without giving up every sense of decency. It’s called finding the balance you can stomach. It’s called using your head to find a solution you can live with, instead of the first obvious solution. I’ll find out if the lady fed me a pack of lies, but I’ll do it my way.”

  “I don’t know why I continue to use you,” Nigel said petulantly. “You never do as you’re told.”

  “Ah, but I get the job done anyway, don’t I?” Rupert chuckled on his way out the door.

  Chapter Twelve

  REBECCA TOSSED AND TURNED all night because she couldn’t stop thinking about The Angel. She was so restless that Elizabeth had snarled at her, “Be still!” long after they had both gone to bed.

  Rebecca knew she ought to find out if Rupert St. John was The Angel’s real name. She ought to find out what he was doing in Nigel’s room. The same thing she’d been doing? Or just visiting a friend? And who was this man Nigel whom Lady Sarah seemed to be spying on?

  There was no chance of sleeping late as she would have liked to do after such a restless night, not with Flora due to arrive early. But then Elizabeth also made an uncommon amount of noise, which Rebecca suspected was intended to wake her. Her roommate’s disposition had not improved one jot. In fact, it had deteriorated. Elizabeth mumbled a lot, slammed wardrobe doors, left her clothes lying on the floor, and even pushed her way past Rebecca as they maneuvered in their tiny room.

  The first thing Flora did when she arrived was to kick those clothes out of the way, which amused Rebecca, but amazingly drew no reaction from Elizabeth. But then yesterday Flora had made it clear to Elizabeth that she wasn’t Elizabeth’s personal maid simply because she fixed her hair. Thanks to Flora’s efforts, Elizabeth’s coiffure was much more becoming to her. So while the lady pretty much snapped everything she had to say to Rebecca, once Flora was in the room with them, she held her tongue.

  Rebecca hoped to get answers to her questions if she lasted the entire day. Did Sarah need a reason to have her dismissed? If so, Rebecca could probably stop worrying about it. She was sure Sarah wouldn’t want what had occurred last night to come to light. And Rebecca had told Sarah that she wouldn’t do anything again that she felt was morally wrong.

  An hour later when she arrived at the duchess’s quarters, Rebecca considered it a stroke of luck to find Evelyn alone there. She was sure Evelyn could answer some of her questions because the younger girl had been at the palace longer than she had. She grabbed one of the embroidery squares before she sat down next to Evelyn and, after a few words of greeting, asked her, “Do you know who Nigel is?”

  “Nigel Jennings?”

  Rebecca hadn’t heard the man’s last name, but she said, “Yes.” How many men with that name could be in the palace?

  “I’ve heard he’s one of the illegitimate royals, even though he doesn’t use the surname Fitz Clarence as most of them do. Old King William had so many bastards with that actress mistress of his, who can keep count? I haven’t met him, so I wouldn’t know him if I saw him.” Then Evelyn leaned closer to Rebecca and whispered, “I once heard Lady Sarah attach a profane word to his name. I gather she doesn’t like him.”

  Rebecca blinked. “Why not?”

  Evelyn shrugged. “Hearing this and that and putting it all together, my guess is that she competes with him to get the queen the best gossip.”

  Rebecca was incredulous. Sarah had put her in a sordid situation last night simply because she was on a quest for gossip? “But didn’t you tell me Sarah’s errands involved palace intrigue?” Rebecca reminded the girl. “How does gossip relate to that?”

  “It’s all one and the same, isn’t it? Secrets, if exposed, can become fodder for gossip and scandal. And who is more interested in nipping scandals in the bud than the queen?”

  Rebecca simply couldn’t believe that gossip was all that Sarah was after. She turned her attention to some stitching, letting a few minutes pass before remarking nonchalantly, “I noticed Elizabeth with a young man last night, an extraordinarily handsome fellow. He quite reminded me of an angel—in appearance.”

  Evelyn giggled. “Funny you should say that. They call him the Saint, at least I’ve heard other ladies call him that. As a joke, of course, because he’s anything but saintly. It’s merely a play on his name, Rupert St. John.”

  Rebecca knew she should stop right there. She had confirmation of his name. He hadn’t lied about it. But she had a thousand questions about him, so she couldn’t resist a few more.

  “Don’t be coy,” Evelyn scolded lightly. “I saw you dancing with him. S
o did Elizabeth. Goodness, you should have seen how jealous she looked! But she’s so silly to think she has a chance with him when he delights in spreading himself around. By the by, those are his words.”

  Ah, a reference to his skirt-chasing! “So he flirts with everyone—equally?”

  “Oh, my, yes, even me.”

  “He’s the fellow you were supposed to distract with kissing?” Rebecca guessed.

  Evelyn grinned. “You’re too perceptive by half, Becky! Yes, Sarah wanted to know if his interest in Elizabeth was serious, since he’s often been seen in her company lately. But I don’t know why Sarah didn’t just ask him herself. I gather they are friends.”

  Good God, he was friends with Sarah?! No wonder he knew in which wing of the palace she lived.

  “And when you asked him if he was courting Elizabeth, he mentioned preferring to spread himself around?” Rebecca queried.

  “Yes. He made it sound like he was joking, but considering he is known for doing exactly that with the ladies, I didn’t doubt the truth of it. My own hopes were dashed. By all accounts, he’s never serious about anything, let alone one particular woman. So let me do my good deed for the day with this warning. It’s all right that you find him fascinating. We all do. You’d be lying if you claimed you weren’t attracted to him, a man as divinely handsome as he is. Just don’t make the mistake Elizabeth did and put any stock in his flirtations.”

  “Duly noted.” Rebecca grinned.

  “He can be wickedly bold,” Evelyn added in a disapproving whisper. Her blush suggested she’d been a target of that wickedness. “Try not to be too shocked.”

  “As you were?”

  Evelyn sighed forlornly. “He treats all women alike, scullery maid or lady. I suppose that’s how rakes are, but I had no training in how to deal with improper gentlemen.”

  Neither had Rebecca. Surely Rupert St. John didn’t treat all women with such risqué boldness as Evelyn was implying. Yet Rebecca recalled he’d treated her the same way last night, when he’d put his hands on her breasts. She blushed at the memory.