Rogue’s Holiday

by Walker, Regan

  “She would appreciate that, I’m sure.”

  Featherstone knocked and entered with a small silver tray. “The countess wished you to have these.”

  “Thank you,” said Robbie, lifting the messages from the tray and handing Jack’s to him.

  Robbie set aside his brandy and read the missive. “It seems she regretted having to leave and thanks me, once again, for delivering her to her great-aunt.”

  “The message from Miss Crockett is warm as well though it says little to encourage a man’s suit.”

  “Given the two ladies, we could hardly expect that. Now,” said Robbie, subsiding into an armchair, “we must discuss strategy.”

  “You have that look in your eyes, Nephew.” Taking the other armchair, Jack asked, “What are you thinking?”

  “You have met Miss Crockett’s parents, yes?”

  “I have.”

  “And secured their blessing?”

  “It took every title I possess and proof of my residence in Guernsey as well as my bank holdings, but yes.”

  “Perfect. I’m thinking we are going to attend a wedding.”

  Muriel toyed with one of her long strands of pearls as she waited for Sir Robert to join her in the library. He had asked to see her after dinner, which aligned perfectly with her desire as she needed to speak with him as well. She had matched many couples over the years but Robbie might be her most challenging as rogues were difficult to place. But she loved them, one in particular. Like Sir Robert, the young Earl of Claremont had been very charming, and though she would confess it to only a few, he’d had a reputation as a rogue. She had laughed at his flattery, certain it was not to be trusted, but his decisive candor, intelligence and determination to forsake all others for her had won her heart. Sir Robert must proceed in the same manner if he wanted to win the hand of the headstrong and beautiful Chastity Reynolds.

  Agatha had asked for her help and Muriel meant to give it. Really, one could not leave such important matters to young people.

  The carriage ride from London to Brighton had told Muriel much about the young woman. Where she had expected overconfidence, even arrogance, she found an insecure beauty who used her intelligence and wit as a defense. Likely, they had gained her many an advantage and many suitors. She would have rejected any she considered weaklings she could dominate. Only a few men could handle the young hoyden without breaking her spirit. Sir Robert was one of those. He was, therefore, the perfect husband for Chastity. He just needed a bit of advice.

  The door opened. “Lady Claremont?”

  “Come in, dear boy, and pour yourself a brandy from the decanter and then join me by the fire.” He followed her instructions and was soon ensconced in the armchair across from her.

  “Now, Sir Robert, we must discuss your approach to Miss Reynolds.”

  “My approach?”

  “Indeed, yes. She is not the type of young woman who can be dictated to or told whom she will marry, well, at least not at first, which you have done to your detriment. Moreover, she will be loath to trust a rogue.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t argue. I know you, Sir Robert. I married one much like you and ours was a love match that endured until the earl’s death. Rogues do reform; I know it well. But Miss Reynolds does not. I doubt not she loves you—one can see it on her face when she speaks of you—but she is inclined to distrust you, for good reasons, I imagine. Worse, she has a notion she does not need to marry. So, listen carefully and I will tell you what you must do.”

  The handsome rogue leaned back in his chair, took a sip of his drink and met Muriel’s steady gaze. “Go on.”

  “You must assure her of your fidelity as well as your love. She may put you off at first, in which case you must be persistent, as I know you can be. When the opportunity presents itself, and it will, you must strike quickly, giving her no chance to decline. Select a public place. By that time, you will have her heart and her respect.”

  “I can do that,” he said.

  Having accomplished her task, Muriel looked up with raised brows. “Was there something you wanted to discuss with me?”

  “Ah…no.” He shook his head. She thought he might be a bit dazed. “No, that quite does it, I believe. Thank you.”

  “I tell you, Jack, those calm gray eyes and silver hair are deceiving.” Robbie gave the grays their heads on the short run back to the Pavilion. “I am convinced that woman could have given Napoleon a run for his money.”

  “That bad, eh?”

  “Positively frightening. But I dare say, The Grand Countess is a wise one. Hence, I’m going to follow her advice.”

  “So we leave for Northampton tomorrow?”

  “We do. Let’s hope with all the wedding guests, The Swan Inn has a room.”

  Two days later, Chastity had just had her final fitting for the gown she was to wear to Pen’s wedding the next day—a lavender confection with flounces she quite liked—when she decided to go in search of her father. Her mother had kept her so busy upon her return she’d scarce had any time to talk to him.

  She found him in his workshop where he was bent over a new design. As she entered, he set it aside with a raft of other drawings. She liked the smell of leather and oil and the tools he used to make his creations. They were manly scents she associated with her father.

  “Hello, Papa. Is that a new design?”

  “A different boot for a man, yes. A half boot with laces.”

  “Fascinating,” she said, tilting her head to the side to glimpse the drawing.

  “You came to tell me something…”

  She looked down, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, wondering how to begin. “Yes…oh, Papa,” she said, blurting it out, “I have fallen in love with a rogue!”

  He seemed unconcerned, which surprised her. “A rogue? Are you sure?”

  “I saw him flirt outrageously with a married woman who clearly had eyes for him, accept the kisses of a tavern wench on a very public street, and I know for a fact he has frequented a London bordello. Are those not the actions of a rogue?”

  Her father’s blue eyes looked deeply into hers. “They are the actions of a man, Chastity. A social flirtation at a dinner party? A grateful servant’s kiss? A man’s dalliance that must be paid for? Tsk, tsk, my pet. You are not a little girl any longer. You are a woman grown, old enough and wise enough to understand a grown man. I have always known you to have good sense.

  “When this man of yours was a man with no future, of course, all he sought was amusement. But now—now he may seek something real, something that will last. Now he may seek love and contentment. Men do change for the right woman.”

  Chastity wanted to believe his words. She had planned not to marry or have children, thinking to leave that to her more beautiful sisters. But now she craved what she had once believed mattered little…a man to love her, a man to share her life. But not just any man. She wanted Sir Robert Powell.

  “Perhaps if I’d had dark hair and eyes like my mother and my sisters. Their beauty is so dramatic,” she said letting her thoughts wander. “I’m the only one in the family who is pale, the cuckoo in the nest.”

  “Chastity, come here my pet.” She stepped closer to him and he took her hands between his. “Do you think my hair was always silver?”

  “As long as I can remember, Papa.”

  “Well, before that, it was like yours. And my eyes, if you haven’t noticed, are the same blue as yours.”

  “I did notice that,” she said, blinking away tears.

  “If you wonder why I indulge my middle daughter, it’s not because I am weak, it is because you and I are much alike, not just in appearance but in what makes us happy.”

  “We are?” That one thought cheered her immensely.

  “We are. Now, tell me, who is this man? And why do you love him?”

  “His name is Sir Robert Powell. He was a guest of the king in Brighton. His family owns ships yet the men are also government spies.” She wou
ldn’t tell him about her kidnapping or her time in a London bordello or that Sir Robert was the cause of all that. “I…I don’t know exactly why I love him, Papa. He is glib of speech and bold in his manner…and so very handsome and brave.”

  “I see.”

  “Do you? I was hoping you would understand.”

  “More than you know, my pet.” He let go of her hands. “In fact, this same man arrived a short while ago and is waiting for you in the parlor.”

  “He is here? Truly?” At her father’s smile and nod, she said, “Then I must hurry.”

  “Yes, do,” he said, chuckling as she turned to go.

  She stepped into the parlor to see him staring into the flames in the fireplace, one hand on the mantel and his other on his hip. He turned. “Chastity.”

  “Sir Robert, I did not expect you.”

  His gaze roved over her in bold assessment, his hazel eyes devouring her. “Didn’t you? Did you think I would let you steal away to Northampton without even a goodbye?”

  “Is that why you have come—to wish me goodbye?”

  He crossed the room to stand in front of her, forcing her to lift her head to look into his handsome face. He took her hands and dropped onto one knee. “I came to tell you I love you, to promise my fidelity for all time and to ask you to be my wife.”

  “My father—”

  “Has already given me his blessing.”

  His face shone like a saint’s, his manner so penitent, so sincere. Still, something inside her hesitated. “He said nothing to me of that.”

  The rogue smiled. “There was no reason for him to do so.” He got to his feet. “Chastity, you will marry me, you know. You love me and I you. Forget the past and think of our future, think of the children we will have.”

  “I shall do as you ask. I will think on it. Tomorrow is my sister’s wedding. Will you be there?”

  “At the wedding breakfast, most assuredly, as will my uncle, for he comes to see your friend, Rose.”

  With that, he kissed her lightly on the lips and bid her good day. “Tomorrow it shall be.”

  Chastity inclined her head to get a good look at her eldest sister standing next to her very acceptable groom in front of the good minister, who read their vows from the Book of Common Prayer. Pen looked lovely in a purple silk gown with white silk roses across the top of the bodice and adorning the scallops at the hem. In her hair were the strings of pearls Chastity had imagined would be among her wedding finery. She appeared happy with her groom and her life. Chastity would have been bored to think of it. She longed for excitement and travel and, yes, she admitted to herself, if God granted, even children.

  Sir Robert was not at the service and she didn’t expect him to be. It was a small affair for only family and their closest friends. Rose was among them. With all the last-minute errands she was assigned, Chastity had not been able to speak to her friend but there would be time at the wedding breakfast where the crowd would descend. She wanted to tell her about Sir Robert’s proposal and her inclination to accept. The thought of it made her heart pound in her chest. With her father’s blessing, whatever reservations she had were gone.

  The rings were exchanged and the happy couple proceeded down the aisle to the applause of all.

  “You look beautiful in lavender, Chastity,” said Rose, coming alongside her. Rose’s gown of jonquil silk was the perfect balance to her dark coloring. “Are those satin slippers new?”

  “There wasn’t time to design new ones but these are my latest creation. I merely embroidered lavender flowers on the toes.”

  “I have something to tell you,” Rose said as they left the church together.

  “What?” Chastity asked, wondering what had put that smile on her friend’s face.

  “I am to marry M’sieur Donet!”

  Chastity stared at her friend, amazed. Tears blurred her vision. “When did this happen?”

  “Oh, he has been ever so attentive. While we were still in Brighton, he came to Northampton to ask my parents for my hand. And when he proposed yesterday, he was very romantic, asking me in both English and French. Of course, I said yes. I never expected to have such a husband, Chas. I am so happy!”

  “And I am happy for you. Of all your suitors, I like him the very best.” They paused outside the church as the carriages came forward to receive the wedding party. “I also have had a proposal, Rose.”

  “Sir Robert?”

  “Yes, he came yesterday to ask me. And he had my father’s blessing.” Then thinking on the timing, Chastity added, “It seems they were both secretive in gaining our fathers’ approval.”

  “Well, they would, wouldn’t they? After all, they wanted to be sure their proposals would be favored by our families.”

  “I assume my father has told my mother, but she has said nothing to me.”

  “So, Chas, what did you say to Sir Robert’s proposal?”

  “Nothing. That is, I have not given him my answer as yet. But he will be at the wedding breakfast with your fiancé so I will have a chance to speak to him then.”

  “And what will your answer be?”

  Chastity’s smile began slowly until it illuminated her entire presence. “Guess.”

  “Congratulations,” Robbie said to his uncle. “You have won the hand of the fair Rose.”

  “I believe my parents will be pleased. An English Rose for a half-English Donet. My family will love her as will my tenants in Saintonge.”

  “Where will you be married?”

  “In London, I hope, so both the families can attend. And then I might sweep her away to Guernsey and France for the honeymoon. She has never seen Paris.”

  “Will you one day live in the chateau?” Robbie was curious.

  “Guernsey is home, but I might spend my summers in France to examine the grapes and walk among the vines. It is remarkably settling to do so. And what about you? Where will you wed?”

  “Assuming I can persuade the virago to marry me, I, too, would want to be wed in London. St George’s, I think. Chastity would like that but we’ll need to pick a date when my family and hers can attend. Lady Sanborn and Lady Claremont will no doubt want to be there as well.”

  “Has she said yes, then?”

  “Oh, no. It could never be that easy with Chastity. But I will have her heart and her hand in mine by the end of this day. Just watch me.”

  Jack laughed. “I can hardly wait to see it.”

  The day being a sunny one, it was decided that the wedding breakfast should be held on the lawn in front of Dudley Hall. Several old oak trees provided shade for the long tables set beneath them where food and champagne were served in great abundance.

  When Robbie and Jack arrived, Robbie immediately spotted Chastity. By her side was Rose Crockett. “I’ll join you, if you don’t mind, Uncle.”

  “Not at all. I see your virago is with my intended.”

  “Snow White with Rose Red. The fairy tale has come to a successful end.”

  “Ah, but which of us is the enchanted bear, eh?”

  “Why, it’s me, of course!”

  Jack laughed. “So you say.”

  “Come, let us greet them.” Robbie didn’t want to interfere with the celebration and so he bowed to Chastity, beautiful in her lavender gown, and sat dutifully at her side as the meal was served. He even waited patiently until the guests had risen from the table and began to wander about the lawn. He let Chastity drift away to speak with her friends, but she was never out of his sight.

  A short time later, Robbie cast a glance in her direction to find her in the midst of a gaggle of what looked to be potential suitors. Among them was Henry Cairo, the watchmaker who lived nearby in Coventry. It was finally time to make his move.

  He came up behind her and, placing his hands on her shoulders, whispered in her ear, “’Tis time, darling Chastity.”

  She whipped around. “Time for what, Sir Robert?”

  “Excuse us, gentlemen,” he said to the men, “but I need a w
ord with my fiancée.”

  Startled glances appeared all around.

  At Chastity’s gasp, he lifted her into his arms and strode away with her to the other side of the estate. He was certain he heard a protest from her mother squelched by her father’s “Now dear.”

  Finally, away from prying eyes, Robbie set her down.

  She sputtered. “Whatever were you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking that it’s time you and I announced our engagement, formally, of course. And I wanted all those suitors of yours to know you belong to me. I love you, Chastity Reynolds. You will marry me, won’t you?”

  “Well, yes,” she said, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. “I do love you.”

  “A good thing, too, as I have bought up all the land around the estate you will inherit.” With a grin, he added, “Your father helped me. After all, our children will want the room for their many adventures.”

  “Presumptuous to the end.”

  And, with that, he gave her a kiss she would remember for always, and a story she would tell her grandchildren.

  Author’s Note

  The Cato Street Conspiracy, as it was known, could have ended very badly had it not been for a certain spy, never named. Oh, there was a man named Edwards but he was not thought to be at the heart of the Crown’s knowledge of the dastardly plot. I like to think that the scenario in my story could have well happened the way I have written it. A grateful monarch would have certainly rewarded the spy. Why not a baronetcy and a holiday at the Royal Pavilion? Even a matched pair of grays!

  At the time of my story in 1820, construction was still proceeding on the grand Pavilion it was to become so that the king could not occupy his apartments. He stayed, instead, on Marlborough Row until 1821, when his apartments were complete and he moved into them on the Pavilion’s ground floor. However, for my story, it seemed appropriate that he should be ensconced in the royal apartments.

  I did much research on Brighton in the early 19th century to give you a feel for the resort town at that time, including the fish market, the shops and taverns, the racecourse and sea bathing. There was an abundance of entertainments to please those members of the ton who flocked to the seaside resort, including the occasional dinner and masked ball at the Royal Pavilion.