The Rogue's Folly

by Donna Lea Simpson

Because of his attraction to Emily, May thought. Always it came back to Emily. As much as she loved the woman, who had been a good friend to her, a searing jealousy still pierced her.

  “Who would have thought his lordship would have such a hard head?” Etienne chuckled dryly. “And thank God, or I would consider myself a murderer indeed and not just in intent, even if it was not I who struck the blow. Delisle and Jem attacked the marquess directly in front of Emily’s home, the fools, and just then her carriage came, and her coachman chased them off just as they had been trying to drag him into the shadows. Thank God,” he said fervently. “And thank God the marquess is such a giant, for he was heavier than they expected, I think.

  “Anyway, when I found out what was going on from an informant—it was the night of the Duc de LaCoursiere’s masquerade—that they were going to kill him and then come to me when I inherited, I sent them a message. I was leaving. It was my best chance of ensuring the marquess’s safety. I was disappearing for good, and if they killed the marquess, they would get nothing for it but the hangman’s rope, for I would be sure the authorities learned the truth. And that is what I did, after a memorable side trip to find you, little one.”

  The endearment, which had started out irritating her endlessly and now sounded like the sweetest words in the English language, almost undid her, but she had to stay strong. There was a growing seed of hope planted within her, but there was more still to learn. “And what did you do while on the run from them?”

  Etienne shook his head. “You do not want to know all, little one.”

  “Were you stealing or . . . or anything?”

  “I am not a common thief,” he said, drawing himself up. Then his shoulders slumped. “No, truly, I am not a thief, I am merely a filthy murderer.”

  “What did you do? What have you been doing the last six months?”

  “I have been staying one step ahead of Delisle and Jem. I can only suppose they had hoped to take vengeance on me for not falling in with their plan, or perhaps they had hope, still, that I could be forced to go along. But I escaped them. Many lovely English women have sheltered me,” he said. “Good women who fed and sheltered me out of the goodness of their hearts.”

  And the lust of their bodies, May thought wryly, knowing Etienne’s effect on any woman with eyes to see and a heart that still pumped red blood. Even haggard, wounded, tired, he was more man than many an English women would know how to resist.

  “But finally they caught me, in bed, of all places. That is how I got wounded. Delisle is nasty, that one, and good with a knife. I only made it away because of the brave heart of Théron, noble beast that he is. They had never been fooled by my supposed drowning in the channel and had almost caught me more than once. This time they did.”

  “Seems like a lot of trouble to go to on their part,” May said.

  “Ah, but the payment would be rich, if I inherited, for they would have the blackmail victim for life. And then I made Delisle angry by refusing him. He does not like to be refused anything. But here my story ends. I was in your folly dying, and you found me and brought me back to life. I deserved to die. I tried to kill the marquess and should have hung on the gallows. But I do not want to die. I like life and all it has to offer. So I have a decision to make now that Delisle and Jem are caught. Either I will be brave, confess all, and face the gallows, or I will escape yet again. I will go to France.”

  “Do you have someone there? Do you have a home, friends . . . a . . . a woman?”

  He did not look into her eyes. “There is only one woman in my heart ever, but alas, I can never have her.”

  May hung her head. It was as she suspected. He was still in love with Emily. But still, she did love him, and she would do what was right. “I won’t let you live under a shadow, Etienne. You saved my life again; you threw yourself on Delisle when he was ready to shoot me.”

  “And yet in truth, you are the one who save me, yet again.”

  She sighed and crossed her arms over her modest bosom. “Well, whomever saved whomever, I want your name cleared.”

  “And why do I deserve that, little one? Why do I deserve your so gallant defense?”

  She stood and crossed the room to stand at the window with him. She longed to touch him, to hold him, but kept herself rigidly separate from him. “You asked me what I thought of the whole story. I think that Delisle set you up from the beginning. I think it was he who made you lose at the tables so you would be in his debt. It seems to me that he must already have known that you were Lord Sedgely’s heir, and concocted that plan to benefit himself from it.”

  Etienne sighed and nodded. “It is what I believe now, too. I always knew that I must have been cheated to lose so consistently, but I put it down to a crooked dealer, or shady player. But who better to fix the games than the owner of the gambling club?”

  “And then he played on any sense of misuse you might feel.”

  “He did do that. He said how wrong it was that I should be a beggar while the English branch of my family was wealthy beyond belief. But still, it does not excuse what I did.”

  “Maybe not,” May said softly. She reached out and stroked his arm. “But in the end you could not do it. Just as I always said, you are too fine a man to ever do something so terrible. We are not going to tell the constable about your connection with Delisle and Jem. You and I are going to Surrey. You are going to beg your cousin’s forgiveness for your foolishness, and he is going to forgive you, because after all, you did not really try to kill him. In fact you saved his life!”

  “But—”

  “No ‘buts,’ Etienne! We are doing this,” she said. “You are going to be free of this burden. The marquess will exonerate you of any wrongdoing because you are going to tell him your story, exactly as you told it to me.”

  Chapter Twenty

  May was adamant. By the end of that day she had persuaded Isabel Naunce—very much against her brother’s wishes—to stay with her and lend her countenance until she and Etienne could travel down to Surrey. She told everyone that they were going, now that the danger to Etienne was over, to visit his cousin before they wed. It was the truth, after all, she argued with Etienne, or at least partly the truth.

  Then she called in the doctor, who treated Etienne’s wounds properly and gave them an ointment that would surely heal the wound much better than an unguent meant for a horse. It began to work quickly, taking away the festering look by the next day and staunching the ugly gray pus that had infected the area.

  She was tireless, May was, he thought, watching her over the two days before they started their journey. Lark House was an efficiently run household because of her. She expected everyone to do their jobs well, but unlike most mistresses she was not rigid in her expectations, allowing them to do those jobs in their own way. He did not think she realized the depth of devotion she had inspired in her people. Her energy extended beyond their own preparations for their trip to Surrey. She even thought of the people in the village to whom she offered charity, though she did not call it charity.

  She had a long meeting with the Bill Connors, planning what was to be done for a family in the village named Johnson. Since she did not have a steward anymore, she was going to hire, she said, Mr. Johnson, so that he would not need to work twelve-hour days for his growing family. He would take the cottage evacuated by Crandall, the former steward, and move his family to Lark House land.

  Others in the village she committed to the care of Mrs. Naunce, who though wary of May at first, seemed to come more to appreciate all of her sterling qualities over the two days. She would take care of the others, she told May, and gladly. And the harvest festival would go on as planned. They would all work together.

  With a fatalism he had never allowed himself to feel before, Etienne thought that it was ridiculous to make this trip, but he did not have sufficient energy to counteract May. She was a whirlwind of activity. The staff went along with any request she made, no matter the amount of work; there was
nothing they would not do for her.

  He had the feeling they were all grateful she was not her mother. Maisie van Hoffen had had a reputation that shamed her staff so badly they could hardly hold their heads up among their fellow servants. According to May she was mending her ways now, but it was too late for her in this county. Always she would be branded by her past actions, though no stain of the mother’s sordid past had ever touched May.

  And he had come so very close to spoiling her newfound position in the community by his mere presence. It was still going to be a matter for her of brazening it out, when it was discovered that she would not be marrying him after all. But she would do well without him there. Her household loved and respected her, and they would support whatever story she decided to tell to explain his defection.

  For he would not be coming back to Lark House, no matter what May thought. She did not appear to be thinking that far ahead, but from some things she said it was clear she assumed he would be coming back to Lark House to convalesce. This came out in connection to his horse. Surprisingly, it was Zach, the young stable boy, who eventually found and was able to lead back Théron. Cassie had come back on her own just hours after the confrontation at the edge of the woods, but his stallion finally appeared on the very morning Etienne and May were to leave. He was exhausted, and Etienne was concerned for his old friend until he saw how the horse had taken to the lad, who had a way with horseflesh that must have been bred in the bones.

  May said, “We’ll leave him here to recover until we come back. By then he will be back to his proper strength.”

  Etienne did not say what was in his heart, that he would never see Lark House again. It was too early for that particular argument.

  And so they were off to Surrey. There was no way to dissuade May from her course of action. He should have just slipped away in the night but he owed her so much, more than he would ever be able to repay, and he would finally face down the truth. He saw no reason in the world why the marquess would not just kill him outright, especially in light of an episode that Etienne was forced to reveal to May. It was not one of his finest hours, but he wearily decided that he would follow the English adage of “in for a penny, in for a pound.”

  They left on a fine fall morning, when the frost was still on the ground, sparkling in the low-rising sun. May had insisted that he purchase new garments, though he did not have any money. The only thing he had of any value was Théron, and his horse was his friend more than his property. He owed her a debt, and though it was composed of more than mere money, it was fitting that when he left May behind, he would leave her his steed. Théron would have a good home with his new mate, Cassie, and his private thought was that May perhaps already had the beginning of a champion stud line in the pair. It would hurt more than he cared to think to leave his horse behind, but there was no one else in the world who would care for him as well as May.

  As they rode that first morning, the swaying and jolting of the enclosed carriage settling as they got off of the country roads on to the better traveled highways, he decided it was the right time to tell her the whole truth of his dealings with the marquessy. Hannah sat with them but dozed, her chin touching her chest and her head bobbing with the sway of the vehicle.

  He looked over at May and took her hand, gazing down at the tan gloves she wore with a brown carriage dress and gold spencer. “You know, the marquess, he may refuse to see me.”

  “Nonsense! You did not have a good chance to get to know him, but in the time I spent in their town house, while I was waiting to sort everything out regarding my mother, I found that beneath that steely exterior, he is really rather a lamb!”

  Etienne quirked her a comical look of horror; she chuckled and squeezed his hand. There was some strong emotion in her pretty blue eyes, but he had lately learned humility and did not think it was love. She had treated him, the last couple of days, like a brother, so while he accepted that she had affection for him, it was assuredly not the love of a lover.

  “Regardless, Lord Sedgely has every reason for hating me. I fear I prolonged his separation from his wife with my lies.”

  He saw a coolness settle over her features and feared it would turn to ice soon, but there was nothing for it but to tell her the whole truth. He took a deep breath and prepared himself for her censure. “You see, I had lost my desire to kill the marquess, but still, I think, I harbored the envy of his position, of his money. He is my kinsman, but has all the wealth and prestige I have never had and never will attain. The morning after I chased Delisle and Jem off from the marquess, I visited him and met fair Emily. She is what I have always thought of as the ideal in womanhood, plump and pretty, dark hair, dark eyes, older than I.”

  May held herself rigid as she listened to him extol the virtues of the woman they were about to visit.

  “I wanted her, I will not deny that. I say this not to excuse myself, but to explain.” He glanced over at May, noting the glacial blue of her eyes. He continued. “I pursued her. But there came a time when I believed she was vacillating between her husband and myself. I wished to tip the scales, and so I took a chance. Lord Sedgely had seen Emily and I go into the conservatory of the Duttons’ home, and his wife had looked very, very guilty. We kissed, and talked for at least an hour, but nothing more. She would let me go no further, and even then I think I knew that it was still her husband in her heart and mind that kept her from engaging in an affair with me. I went to Lord Sedgely’s house the next morning and told him we had made love.”

  • • •

  Her heart threatened to rend in two, May thought, holding back tears with difficulty. So that was it. As she had suspected, Emily was the woman to whom his heart was promised, despite her status now, out of his reach and happily back with her husband. It hurt badly, and it made what she was doing and where she was going all that much more difficult, but she was doing this for Etienne. She must keep his welfare firmly in mind, rather than dwell upon her breaking heart.

  He required no answer to his story, and May could not think of a word to say. So that was some of what had gone on among the three the previous spring. She had been so caught up in her own affairs, her fear of Dempster and his devious plans, that she had known little of what actually occurred. It was clear to her now, though, that Etienne still cherished love in his heart for Emily. She must think of him, and how it was going to hurt, seeing her there in her home and happy, about to bear her husband’s child.

  They stopped for the night at a small inn, retired early to their separate chambers, and then started off again early. The rest of the trip passed in near silence.

  • • •

  Brockwith was a large, pleasant Palladian home set in a lovely valley in Surrey. May had not sent word ahead that they would be coming for a number of reasons, and so when they pulled up at the front portico of the house, they were surprised to see the doors flung open. Etienne and May exchanged looks as a harried butler came out on the steps, glanced down at them, and then hurried back into the manor.

  Etienne descended to the ground and was reaching in to help May out when Dodo Delafont came storming out screeching over her shoulder, “What do you mean it is not the doctor, Cromby! Who else would it be?”

  Her expression when she looked and found Etienne and May there was almost comical, her thin mouth an O of surprise.

  “What is wrong, Dodo?” May asked, trotting up the steps and giving the older woman a brief hug. Hannah followed her mistress up the steps and stood waiting a discreet distance away.

  Dodo looked a little surprised, but said, “It’s Emily! It is too early, but we think she has gone into labor! Baxter has gone for the doctor, and that is who I thought the carriage was.”

  She glanced down, saw Etienne and froze. “What is he doing here?” she asked, pointing with one shaky finger. “I thought he was dead!”

  “It is a very long story. May we come in?”

  Etienne steeled himself to be tossed forcibly from the property; it was
no better than he deserved. But Dodo gave him a puzzled look then threw up her hands. “Come in, come in. This is no time to be quibbling.”

  It was a bad time to come, May thought, as they followed the older woman into the mansion. She glanced at Etienne’s face, waiting to see his anxiety on behalf of the woman he loved, but his face and attitude expressed no more than a proper amount of worry on Emily’s behalf. What a good actor he was! Fortunate, for it would not be proper for him to show his true feelings in Emily’s own home and in front of her family.

  They awaited Lord Sedgely’s return in a main-floor salon, done in ivory and gold, with lovely, delicate Sheraton furniture. Dodo excused herself to return to Emily, and though May wanted to go up to the mother-to-be, she accepted the older woman’s belief that it was best if she waited.

  “She is right, little one. Best to leave the poor woman undisturbed. Why do we not walk in the garden while we await the marquess?”

  May allowed him to lead her outside, leaving Hannah with her sewing in the salon. Brockwith was in a valley with a long hill behind it, and a ridge of trees along the top that tossed anxiously in the autumn wind, brown and golden leaves tumbling across the grass like a troupe of small acrobats. It was all very lovely but she still preferred her own home, Lark House.

  “You know,” Etienne said, drawing her arm through his as they walked through the garden of bronze and gold chrysanthemums. “Lord Sedgely will be within his rights to throw me from the property rather than listen to what I have to say. And you know that if he challenges me to a fight, I will not fight him. I will allow him to do whatever honor demands of him. I will take what punishment he deems just, for I have done him great and repeated injury.”

  May squeezed his arm and laid her cheek against his shoulder. “We must make him listen, Etienne. I know you were wrong, but there were other forces at work, and once he hears all . . . I think he is a fair man, even if he is not merciful.”