Rogue’s Holiday

by Walker, Regan

  “Aye,” said his gunner, “and one for the Cap’n!”

  “Hip! Hip! Hurrah!” shouted his men.

  After dinner, Rose came into Chastity’s bedchamber and perched on the bed, giving Chastity, who was sitting at her dressing table unpinning her hair, a curious look. “You seem different somehow.”

  “I imagine I am. One cannot experience something so traumatic without being affected. As well, I had much time to think.” Mostly, she thought of Sir Robert, but Rose need not know that.

  Rose leaned forward as if trying to close the distance between them. “I know you were kidnapped, Chas, and that the men took you because of Sir Robert’s work for the Crown. He was unconscious on the ground when we found him but, when he awoke, he told us all.”

  “One of the villains told me they had hit him on the head. I was worried they might have killed him.”

  “Just a large bump. He and the vicomte went after you that same night. That’s when they found the two left behind.”

  Concerned they might have gotten away, she asked, “Where are they now?”

  “In the custody of the local magistrate.”

  Relieved, Chastity said, “Their leader took me to a dreadful part of London, the East End, I think. I feared I would never leave, that I’d be lost there forever.”

  “How awful!”

  “It was. But I was not there long. The leader had plans for me. Plans designed to ruin me and hurt Sir Robert. He meant to give me to a brothel.”

  Rose’s mouth dropped open.

  “As it happened, he took me to a place called Willow House, an exclusive bordello, and threatened me, saying he would kill Sir Robert if I said anything. When I realized the madam was a kind woman who had discerned the truth of it, I told her my story. Before she could return me to Brighton, Sir Robert showed up, looking for me.”

  “How did he know you might be there?”

  “He and M’sieur Donet were searching all the high-class brothels in London and Sir Robert remembered Willow House, a place he has apparently patronized in the past.”

  “I see,” said Rose, her forehead furrowed.

  “Exactly. A rogue would know of such places, wouldn’t he? Still, he was caring of my virtue, which, by the way, is still intact. It was his idea to have everyone believe I was visiting Aunt Agatha’s good friend, Lady Claremont. When he explained to her what occurred, she offered to bring me back.”

  “He is thoughtful, Chas, no matter you think him a rogue.” Rose got up from the bed and came over to embrace her. “You have been through a lot but, in time, this will pass.”

  “I hope so. Meanwhile, Rose, I have changed my mind about marriage. Lady Claremont insisted I reconsider my thought to live alone and I have. I should probably tell you that Sir Robert has mentioned marriage.”

  Rose, now sitting on the bed beside Chastity, took one of her hands in hers. “He has proposed?” she asked excitedly.

  “No, not exactly. He has informed me that such is his intent. It was not at all romantic. We were arguing in the Pavilion gardens and I ran from him. Right into the clutches of the kidnappers, as it turned out.”

  “My goodness, Chas.”

  “Let’s go find ourselves a glass of sherry. Or, maybe a full bottle.”

  Rose laughed. “Let’s.”

  “There are two letters for Miss Reynolds and one for you, Lady Sanborn,” announced Featherstone as he delivered the mail on a silver salver to the parlor where Chastity and Rose were having tea with Aunt Agatha and Lady Claremont.

  Chastity’s great-aunt took the letter addressed to her from the tray and indicated to Featherstone he should give the others to Chastity.

  “I’ll read this later,” said Aunt Agatha, tucking it into her bosom.

  Chastity tore open the first when she recognized the handwriting. “It’s from my mother.” Reading on, she said, “She wants me to return to Northampton for my sister’s wedding. She says the preparations are proceeding and my presence is needed for a fitting.”

  “I would be sad to see you go,” said Aunt Agatha.

  “Indeed, yes,” added Lady Claremont, “and Sir Robert has yet to return.”

  “If you must go home, so will I, Chas.”

  Chastity smiled at her loyal friend. “What about the vicomte?” Rose had not said much of her feelings for the Frenchman but her eyes, whenever he was near, had given her away.

  Rose pressed her lips together. “I would miss him, but he has said nothing of his intentions and I could not bear to let you go alone.”

  Chastity reached out to pat her friend’s hand. “It would mean a lot to have you with me.”

  “Then I shall remain with you,” said Rose. “Who is the other letter from?”

  Chastity studied the familiar writing. The letter was addressed to Miss Chastity Reynolds, No. 54 Old Steyne Road, Brighton. “I think it’s from Sir Robert,” she said, looking up. All three faces stared back at her with expectant expressions.

  She skimmed the letter. “He assures me the villain, whose name is Aaron Ings, and his hired brigands are in the hands of the Bow Street Runners, but there will be some delay so that he won’t be returning to Brighton for a week.” She did not disclose the rest of the letter, the part that spoke of his love for her and his desire to be with her shortly. Were those his true feelings?

  “Humph,” uttered Lady Claremont. “That is disappointing, I must say. And with your having to leave, Chastity, we have little time to spend together.”

  Agatha, too, had recognized the handwriting on the letter addressed to her. She retreated to the small library, away from the others, to see what Sir Robert had to say. Breaking the red wax seal, she unfolded the note and read,

  Dear Lady Sanborn,

  I don’t know if Chastity has told you, but I have expressed a desire to marry her. I have come to love and admire your grand-niece and want nothing as much as to share my life with her. However, I think it would be prudent to seek her father’s blessing before I formally ask for her hand. I am certain you would approve of my doing so, assuming you favor the match. I believe the Countess of Claremont had that in mind when she first asked me to call upon you. A clever matchmaker.

  With this in mind, I will go first to Northampton and then join you in Brighton. Please say nothing of this to Chastity as I want to be assured Mr. Reynolds approves of my suit before I proceed.

  Yours truly,

  Sir Robert Powell

  “Featherstone!” she called as she pulled the cord. The butler immediately appeared. “Please ask Lady Claremont to join me here for a glass of Madeira. You may tell her I have some very good news to impart.”

  Chastity went to her bedchamber after tea and sat before the fire, stroking Crispin’s fur. She was oddly glad for her mother’s request that she return home. While she hated to leave Aunt Agatha and Brighton and was finding Lady Claremont’s company very pleasant, the summons home provided the excuse she needed. If she were still in Brighton when Sir Robert returned, she might be tempted to give in to him, his charm, his kisses and his awkward mention of marriage.

  Her feelings for him had changed, so much so she feared she could no longer deny her attraction for the man she had once named “The Rogue”. In truth, she had fallen in love with him but she could never marry a man who frequented brothels, engaged in assignations with married women and accepted the public fawning of tavern wenches. She could never be a wife who tolerated such behavior, particularly if she loved her husband.

  A soft knock sounded and Rose opened her door to peek in. “Am I permitted to join you?”

  “Of course, do come in. I’ve just been thinking…”

  “Of going home or staying?” she asked as she took the chair opposite Chastity in front of the fire.

  “Going home. I must, you know, for Pen’s sake. Do you mind awfully?”

  “I have loved being here in Brighton with you, but I always knew it would end and I cannot imagine staying without my dearest friend.” Rose sighed
deeply. “I would have liked to say farewell to the vicomte, but I can always leave him a letter.”

  Chastity studied the face of her friend. Cast in firelight, she was so lovely. “Do you like him very much?”

  Rose gazed into the fire. “Yes, I think I like him more than I realized. The night of the ball told me much of his character. He was the stalwart one when you were taken. So calm, so able to cope while the rest of us were in a panic. He went with Sir Robert to search for anything of yours. That’s when they found your slipper. And he insisted on going to London with Sir Robert. But he is of the aristocracy, Chas, and very wealthy as well. He could have any woman he wanted. I am only a country girl, who has not even had a Season.”

  “You are hardly only that, Rose. I think you a most wonderful woman and any man would thank his stars to have found you. Do write him a letter and see what comes of it.”

  “You are good to encourage me, Chas. When do we leave?”

  “My mother gave me a week, but I think to leave in a few days, depending on the weather. I hope to avoid the mud-filled ruts we experienced on our travel to London.”

  “I will be ready.”

  Chapter 16

  Robbie left Jack at The Swan Hotel in Northampton where they had secured lodgings and rode to the location not far from town where the hotel proprietor had told him he could find Dudley Hall. His uncle begged to remain behind to allow him inquiry after Miss Crockett’s family in the hopes of gaining an introduction to her parents.

  At first glance, the Reynolds’ home appeared large and imposing, a two-winged brick edifice standing three stories high with six dual chimneys rising from a slanted slate roof. Four dormer windows were set into the third story roof.

  He rode up the gravel path flanked by grass lawns. As he wasn’t expected, he was unsurprised to encounter no stable boy. So, he tied his horse at the stone arch leading to the front door. A knock produced a butler dressed in a black suit. “Sir?”

  Robbie handed the man his card. “Sir Robert Powell to see Mr. Reynolds.”

  “The master is in the library. I will see if he is accepting callers.”

  With that, the butler turned on his heels and disappeared down a corridor, leaving Robbie to look around. The floor beneath his boots was black and white tiles and above him a shining brass chandelier held a myriad of candles. A staircase at one side led to the floors above. He tried to picture a young, mischievous Chastity sliding down the banister and succeeded. Oh, yes, he was confident she had done that and likely been punished for it.

  She had told him she had two sisters, one older and one younger. Were they at all like her? He doubted it. Chastity was unique and might have had difficulty fitting into an ordinary family. He recalled her words when she described them, “I have two sisters, one older and one younger. My father is a country squire and an eccentric designer of men’s shoes and boots.” She had made no mention of her mother.

  The butler returned. “The master will see you. Please follow me.”

  The library was lined with bookshelves full of books. Behind the carved desk that was strewn with sheets of parchment was a fireplace and above it the painting of a beautiful dark-haired woman in an elegant blue silk gown. He could see a resemblance with Chastity but the coloring was different.

  The silver-haired man behind the desk rose and came around to extend his hand. “Sir Robert, welcome.”

  Robbie shook his hand and looked into the same brilliant blue eyes that belonged to Chastity. “I come about your daughter, Chastity.”

  Mr. Reynolds gestured Robbie to a sofa set beneath a mullioned window that allowed light to stream into the library. “Would you care for a cup of coffee? ’Tis a bit early for brandy but we have that as well.”

  “Coffee would be welcome.”

  A footman was summoned and returned with two cups and a silver coffee pot. Mr. Reynolds waved him away. “I’ll pour, Jackson.”

  Once they had their coffee, Mr. Reynolds took a seat beside Robbie. “Do you come from Brighton with news of my daughter?”

  Robbie sampled the coffee, which was very good, before saying, “I come from London but I have been in Brighton, a guest of His Majesty at the Royal Pavilion.”

  “Is my daughter well?” Mr. Reynold’s asked with a look of concern. “I’ve not had a letter recently.”

  “Your daughter is well and with her great-aunt, Lady Sanborn.”

  The man’s posture relaxed and he took a drink of his coffee. “Then, may I ask your purpose in coming here?”

  “I realize you don’t know me at all, sir. I met your daughter this summer at the suggestion of the Countess of Claremont, a family friend, whom I greatly admire. Over the months, I have come to respect Chastity and enjoy her company. More than that, I love her. I come to ask your permission for her hand in marriage. I would ask her to be my wife.”

  “You are right, Sir Robert, I don’t know you. But I do know of you. Does His Majesty the king know of your interest in my daughter?”

  “Why, yes, but he did not know I was coming to see you. I have not spoken to him since I left Brighton for London.”

  “Then he must have anticipated your visit, for he wrote to me. His letter was quite clear. He said if you should ask for my daughter’s hand, I should not deny you. He called you his friend, a noble servant of His Majesty and, as a part of Powell Shipping, a worthy man of means well able to provide for my daughter.”

  “I am taken aback, sir. I did not know that the king had attempted to pave my way. I would not be so complimentary of my attributes but, it is true, I am able to care for your daughter. I must tell you she thinks me a rogue of the worst sort though she is not indifferent to my suit. Her view is based on some impressions, perhaps of my life before I met her. But since that day, there has been no other woman for me. And there never shall be.”

  Mr. Reynolds’ blue eyes twinkled. “It is not so bad to begin as a rogue, Son, as long as you end as a faithful husband.”

  “I have three brothers, sir. All are faithful husbands, as is my father.”

  “And what do you think of my daughter’s interest in designing shoes?”

  “I think she is very clever. You see, my brothers’ wives all engage in unusual pursuits. Nick, the eldest, is married to an American who knows sailing ships as well as her husband. Kit, my brother Martin’s wife, is an accomplished sketch artist. And, Ailie, my twin’s wife, designs ships.”

  “My, my. That’s quite a family. Yes, I begin to see,” he said, nodding. “Chastity would fit in well, wouldn’t she?”

  “She would, indeed, sir.”

  The older man set down his cup and got to his feet. Robbie noticed his beautiful boots. “Are those boots one of your own designs?”

  “Yes, would you like to see more?”

  Robbie stood. “I would. There is nothing I like so much as a fine pair of boots.”

  “Well, then, young man, let us retire to my workshop.” He began to stride toward the door, then turned. “Oh, and, yes, you have my permission to seek Chastity’s hand in marriage.”

  Chastity stroked Crispin’s fur and gazed out the window of the carriage that was taking her and Rose home. No matter the day was fair, the atmosphere in the carriage bespoke gloom. Neither of them seemed to be eager to return to Northampton. The same had been true of their one night in London. Grillon’s Hotel had brought back so many memories that Chastity had been glad to leave it behind that morning.

  “We don’t seem to be very lighthearted today,” observed Rose.

  “No,” said Chastity. “And I don’t look forward to Pen’s wedding either. Mother will parade all the eligible men in Northampton before me with unsubtle hints of my need to accept one of them.”

  “If it will help, I will stand by you, Chas.”

  “You must. I would die without your company. Too, Mother will not be so verbal of her desires to have me wed one of those men if you are there.”

  “Then we shall face the onslaught of your suitors toge
ther.”

  “I expect many of them would be happier to court you,” said Chastity with a pointed look at her friend. “Or my younger sister, Lucy.”

  “After M’sieur Donet, I don’t think I can find a man in Northampton to compare, much less appeal.”

  “You did not favor Mr. Cairo?”

  “No, though he was very charming. Besides, Chas, it was you with whom he was smitten, not I.”

  Chastity recalled the watchmaker’s effusive praise but attributed it to the kind of thing any man would say. And though she, too, found him charming, he never had her heart, not like Sir Robert. “Very well,” said Chastity, “we shall face the music together.”

  “What do you mean gone?” asked Robbie stunned.

  Lady Sanborn lifted a bejeweled hand into the air. “She returned to Northampton at her mother’s request to prepare for her sister’s wedding.”

  “And Miss Crockett?” asked Jack with a forlorn expression.

  “Gone with my great-niece, I am sad to say. Even the cat. It’s been very lonely since they left. Why, if Muriel hadn’t decided to stay, I would be quite dispirited.”

  Robbie’s brow furrowed. “Muriel is here still?”

  “Oh, yes. She is upstairs just now having a lie down. Why don’t the two of you join us for dinner and you can visit with her then?”

  Without consulting Jack, Robbie inclined his head. “We accept.” There was much he wanted to ask The Grand Countess.

  “Good. In the meantime, you might enjoy a brandy in the library.” She gestured toward a door a short way down the corridor.

  “Most appreciated,” said Robbie and signaled Jack to follow.

  “Oh,” said Lady Sanborn, “I nearly forgot. The young ladies left messages for each of you. I will have Featherstone bring them to you in the library.”

  Inside the library, Robbie shut the door and poured them each a glass of Lady Sanborn’s brandy.

  “I shall have to send the countess some of the Saintonge cognac,” remarked Jack.