Every Bit a Rogue

by Adrienne Basso

  “I am,” he replied emphatically, though he knew in his heart it was a partial truth. But he was hopeful and determined to achieve the happiness with Emma that he felt was within his grasp.

  “I’m glad. You deserve to be happy.” Dianna’s eyes were downcast, but there was a sense of determination in the way she held her shoulders high and straight. “I’ll be leaving soon. The title and lands have passed to the next Baron Brayer. He is expected to arrive within the month and the solicitors have told me in no uncertain terms that I must vacate the house before that time.”

  “Surely your parents have forgiven you by now.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Why don’t you stay with them?”

  Dianna’s body twitched and shuddered. “They won’t have me, though truthfully ’tis a blessing. Life with them would be nothing but constant lectures and reminders of how I have disappointed and disgraced them.

  “I was bequeathed a very modest widow’s portion,” she continued, her voice softer. “I fear it shall be a miserly existence, but at least I will have my independence.”

  “You are young. You will marry again,” he predicted, unable to imagine her alone for the rest of her life.

  Dianna let out a huff of laughter. “I can assure you the very last thing I need or want is another husband.”

  “Your time with your husband couldn’t have all been bad, Dianna,” Jon countered.

  “Not all. Just mostly.” She settled her hands on her hips, arms akimbo. “Gerald pursued me on whim, filling my head with romantic nonsense. ’Twas all a game to him, a challenge to see if he could pull me away from you. Once he succeeded, he lost interest. Only then were my eyes open to the truth. He would have abandoned me, but he discovered he needed a wife to collect his inheritance, so he married me. It was convenient for him, nothing more.”

  “And you?”

  Her chest heaved as she drew in a deep breath. “I had no other options. I was ruined—as he often liked to remind me—a fallen woman whose prospects for a respectable marriage were gone. Yet still I held out hope, foolishly believing that being his wife would change his attitude, alter his behavior. Sadly, I was mistaken. He enjoyed making me beg for his attention, expected me to grovel for every speck of consideration from him.

  “He had a penchant for horse racing and cards, a violent temper, a taste for wenching and talent for spending coin he did not have. So, to answer your question, Jon, yes, it was that bad.”

  Jon was brought up short by her revelations. Her raw pain and vulnerability touched him. Yet he had no words of comfort, no way to ease this darkness from her past.

  “Hearing all this almost makes me sorry that I wasn’t the one who killed him,” he muttered.

  She looked shocked. “I know you could never do such a thing.”

  “Your servants claimed to have seen me at your home the night he died,” Jon replied, wondering why he was reminding her of the fact. Because he needed to be certain she didn’t believe it?

  “Yes, about that. There’s something I have to tell you. Something that I am ashamed of, something that I deeply regret.” Dianna eyed him nervously. “Hector paid those footmen to say they had seen you coming from Gerald’s study the night he was killed.”

  The shock hit him like a physical blow. “My God, what are you saying, Dianna? You wanted me to hang?”

  “Never!” Dianna insisted passionately. “I didn’t know what Hector had done until days later. By the time I discovered it, you were no longer in custody for the crime.”

  His mind rife with suspicion, Jon cast her a look of disbelief. “What was the purpose of enacting such an odious plan?”

  Dianna’s lower lip trembled. “Gerald’s murder was the final straw for Hector. He swore another scandal would ruin our entire family and push us to a place from which we would never recover. He thought deflecting the attention to you would save us in the short term.”

  “That’s idiotic.”

  Dianna lifted her hands helplessly. “There was a second part to Hector’s plan. I was to bring the footmen forth to recant their statements, to explain that upon further reflection they realized they had made a grave mistake. By saving you, I could redeem myself to you and perhaps to others in society. Yet in the end, you didn’t need me. Miss Ellingham saved you.”

  “With the truth,” Jon said bitterly. His head was reeling with the revelation and he was having difficulty making sense of it all. “Where are the footmen now?”

  She cleared her throat, looking deeply uneasy. “I don’t know. I swear I would tell you if I did. I believe they ran off because they were frightened when Hector changed the arrangement he had made with them. He insisted the men stand by their original statements and continue to repeat the lie about seeing you that night, whenever they were asked.”

  Jon swallowed. “How could you have gone along with it? Why didn’t you tell the magistrates the moment you learned the truth?”

  “Who would have believed me? I’m a barely respectable woman, flighty and impulsive,” she said pitifully. “Hector would have denied it. The footmen were gone. I had no proof.”

  “Why does Hector hate me so much?”

  She shrugged. “He was using you when Gerald died, hoping the gossip would center on you and not our family. If Hector would have followed through with the plan as he originally conceived it, you would have come to no harm.

  “But something changed after you wed Miss Ellingham. He was very angry. He speaks of her often, you know. I believe he had set his sights on making her his bride.”

  His stomach clenched, but then Jon laughed. The idea of Emma married to such a pompous windbag like Hector Winthrope was comical in the extreme.

  He turned his gaze to Dianna, wondering what other tidbits she had been keeping to herself.

  “Who killed your husband, Dianna?”

  “I don’t know. Most likely someone to whom he owed money.” A slow bloom of color spread across her cheeks. “Gerald liked to gamble,” Dianna continued. “Unfortunately, he was not very good at it and certainly disliked paying his debts when he lost.”

  Jon once again found himself not regretting the fact that Gerald was dead. For a variety of reasons, including that his death had set into motion a bizarre set of circumstances that resulted in Jon marrying Emma.

  And for that he would always be grateful.

  “Thank you for telling me all of this, Dianna.”

  “Then you forgive me?” she asked, her voice a strange mixture of equal parts hope and apprehension.

  “I do.” While never condoning her actions, Jon found that he could understand—and with a bit of effort, even forgive them. As for Hector, well, that was another matter entirely.

  They had circled around the path, returning to where they started. Jon linked his hands together to give Dianna a foot up onto her horse, and she gazed down at him as she settled the jittery animal. A myriad of thoughts seemed to flicker behind her eyes, yet she shared none of them.

  Dianna trotted away without another word and Jon watched her spring her horse into a gallop. There was no denying that she had matured from a woman who rarely considered anyone’s wants or needs except her own, to one who had developed an awareness of others, and he was glad, for her sake, to see that change.

  Still, as he watched her ride away, Jon’s head was filled with an undeniable truth. If he had married Dianna, he could have given her a rich, full life, he could have made her happy.

  But he realized that she would not have done the same for him.

  * * *

  When Emma reached the drive of Ravenswood Manor, her anxiety began to ease. She had always been a woman of action, and having determined that she needed to see Sebastian, she wanted to get a plan in place to accomplish that as soon as possible.

  Gwen and Jason were currently in Town—it made perfect sense to tell Jon that she wanted to journey there to visit her eldest sister. Yet she needed a way to get to London without unduly arousing her husband’s suspicions and she was
counting on Dorothea to help her solve that problem.

  Of course, it would be a challenge not revealing to her sister the true reason for a hasty London trip, but Emma was hoping Dorothea would be too intrigued and intent on solving the problem to dig beyond the surface reason for the trip.

  However, the moment she stepped through the front door, Emma was surprised and delighted to learn that fate was not always unkind or unjust. Sometimes, it was perfectly marvelous.

  Carter’s father, the Duke of Hansborough, had arrived last night. He was preparing to return to London and had expressed his desire to bring his two oldest grandchildren, Philip and Nicole, with him. Dorothea was happy to let her children spend some time in Town with their doting grandfather, but Carter was concerned.

  The children’s nurse had a severe cold and sore throat and was unable to travel with them. Emma could hardly believe her luck. She immediately volunteered to accompany the children and get them settled at the duke’s London residence before going to stay with Gwen and Jason.

  The duke wished to leave directly, and Emma promised that she and her maid would be ready. ’Twas an ideal solution that almost seemed too good to be true. All that was left was to tell Jon her news.

  Alas, her husband was out when she returned home. Nevertheless, Emma informed a wide-eyed Dory that they were leaving for London within the hour and instructed the maid to pack the trunks.

  Emma was rushing through the foyer when Jon crossed over the threshold.

  “I missed you at breakfast this morning,” he said. “Did you enjoy your visit with your sister?”

  “I have the best news.” Emotion settled in her throat, making it hard to speak, but she cleared her throat and started talking rapidly, nearly tripping over the words in her haste to get them out.

  “When I arrived at Dorothea’s this morning, Carter’s father was there preparing to return to London. He desperately wants to bring Philip and Nicole with him, but their nurse is suffering from a dreadful head cold and sore throat, poor dear, and can’t travel. So I offered to accompany the children to Town and see that they are settled in their grandfather’s home.”

  Jon stared at her for a moment in mute astonishment. “You intend to leave for London today?”

  There was a puzzled tone in his voice that was hard to miss. Emma gritted her teeth as she felt the panic begin to crawl up the back of her neck. She absolutely couldn’t lie outright if he probed for a deeper explanation for her urgent need to go to London.

  Yet at all costs, she wanted to avoid revealing her complicated feelings about Sebastian. Especially since she didn’t completely understand them herself.

  “We’ll depart directly so we can arrive by nightfall,” Emma said breathlessly. “Dory is nearly finished packing my trunk. As you know, my sister Gwen was unable to attend our wedding and then we left for our trip to see Mr. Ogdan soon after. I miss her very much and this is the perfect opportunity for me to visit with Gwen while at the same time helping Dorothea.”

  “If you want to go to London so badly, then I’ll take you,” Jon declared, raking a hand through his hair.

  “I would never ask you to leave your work at such a critical juncture,” Emma exclaimed. “I’ll be away for less than a fortnight. You’ll barely know that I’m gone.”

  Emma felt the tension tighten in her shoulders as she awaited his response. What would she do if he forbade her to go?

  As she fumbled to find the right words to persuade him, fate once again stepped in to grant her a reprieve. Sir Galahad came bounding through the foyer, carrying something long and black in his mouth. Running behind him was Jon’s valet, shouting the dog’s name loudly.

  Emma and Jon exchanged confused looks. “Galahad, Sir Galahad, what do you have, boy?” Jon called out.

  At the sound of Jon’s voice, the dog skidded to a stop and turned. He tossed his head from side to side, violently shaking whatever was clamped tightly in his mouth.

  “Heavens, what has he caught?” Emma squeaked in alarm. “Is it a small animal?”

  “’Tis his lordship’s boot,” Gilmore answered, his chest heaving as he sought to pull in air. “The dog’s been chewing it.”

  Emma and Jon turned at the same time to stare at the valet.

  “That looks like one of my favorite boots. How did he get ahold of it?” Jon inquired.

  “Forgive me, my lord,” the valet stammered. “I didn’t notice the dog was in your chambers until I discovered him in the corner with it. When I tried to take it away from him, he bolted.”

  Emma’s brow rose. One had to be half blind to miss an animal of Sir Galahad’s size. What exactly had the valet been doing?

  Emma glanced over at her pet. The dog was now stretched out on his belly, the boot firmly held between his two front paws as he chewed contentedly upon the heel.

  Gilmore moved forward. Sir Galahad immediately stood. Boot in his mouth, he pranced away, then turned as though waiting to see if he would be followed.

  “He thinks that you’re playing a game,” Emma remarked.

  “I’m not,” the valet protested with a mulish expression.

  Emma narrowed her gaze, determined to win the battle of the boot. The dog had once again resumed a prone position as he gnawed on his prize.

  “Let me see what you have, Galahad,” she cooed, keeping her voice soft and soothing as she moved closer.

  The dog lifted his head, cocking it to one side. His tail started wagging eagerly, but just as Emma drew close enough to snatch the boot, he leapt to his feet and ran.

  “He appears to be enjoying the taste of it,” Jon commented wryly. “You might as well let him keep the damn thing. It’s ruined beyond repair at this point.”

  “If you give me your bootmaker’s address, I can bring back a new pair from London,” Emma offered.

  Jon’s brows drew together in a deep frown.

  She stared at him, feeling swamped by misgivings and guilt at her subterfuge.

  “The trunks are packed, my lady, and I’ve laid out a traveling outfit for you,” Dory said quietly.

  Emma turned. The maid stood a respectful distance away on the bottom step of the staircase, her hands clasped together.

  “I’ll be right there,” Emma replied, seizing the chance to take advantage of the distraction. “We must not keep the duke waiting when he arrives.”

  She scurried up the stairs before Jon had a chance to voice any further objections to her making this trip. But her husband was standing in almost the exact spot when she emerged a half hour later.

  Emma hooked her arm in his and leaned into Jon as they walked outside to where the duke’s coach-and-four stood in their drive. Philip and Nicole were literally bouncing with excitement inside the carriage and the duke was having little success in calming their enthusiasm.

  “Well, this will certainly be a lively ride,” Emma said brightly.

  Suddenly, Jon reached for her, hauling her close, his body pressing hard and taut against her softness. Emma lifted her mouth and stood on her toes to get closer, awaiting his kiss. His arms locked around her and he kissed her hard and fierce, as though he were afraid she might forget the feel of him.

  When he finally pulled away, Emma gazed up at him blindly, her heart twisting with confusion.

  “Hurry back to me,” he said gruffly, and then he turned on his heel and swiftly walked away.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Emma awoke early and sat by the window in the guest bedchamber of Gwen and Jason’s London townhome, watching the sunrise. As the rays of light slowly appeared, they glittered off the still waters of the ornamental garden pond, casting a golden glow over the plants surrounding it.

  She pushed open the window, catching a whiff of the morning air, fresh and clean and full of promise. It bolstered her mood and helped to chase some of the cobwebs from her head.

  Today was the day.

  She and Dory had both been tired and travel weary last night when the duke’s carriage had driven to the
most fashionable section of Mayfair and deposited them at Gwen’s front door. It was an impressive residence and Emma had noticed Dory staring up at the façade of the imposing home with awe.

  The maid’s eyes grew rounder as they were ushered inside and graciously attended to by the staff. Having no advance notice of her arrival, it was a relief for Emma to discover that her sister and Jason were out for the evening. That meant that she had been temporarily spared the need to make explanations for this unexpected, unannounced visit.

  Thankfully, Emma was well-known to the household staff and they soon had her settled in one of the guest bedchambers. After a soothing bath and a light supper served in her room, she sat at the writing desk and penned a note to Sebastian.

  It was answered within the hour. He had accepted her invitation and would come to call later this morning. Emma sighed, hoping that would give her enough time to find some mastery over her emotions.

  She had spent a sleepless night concocting, reviewing, and casting aside what she was going to say to him. Her thoughts had been so consumed with it that she had given barely any consideration to how she was going to explain to Gwen the reason she had summoned Sebastian.

  She had spent so many years never giving away her thoughts or feelings for him, hiding it so expertly from those she loved, that she wasn’t certain where to begin.

  There was a light knock on the door just before it opened and Gwen swept into the room. She was still in her nightclothes, and the train of her white India muslin robe glided quietly across the floor.

  “Well, isn’t this a lovely surprise.”

  Smiling fondly, Emma crossed the chamber and gave her sister a hug. “I hope you don’t mind my unannounced visit, but when the opportunity arose I seized the chance to come to Town.”

  “I am delighted to see you,” Gwen replied, beaming with pleasure. “Though I confess to being vastly disappointed when I discovered that your husband isn’t with you.”

  Managing a sheepish grin, Emma attempted to offer her sister an excuse. “Jon regrets it also. He is very busy at the moment, but has promised to come the next time.”