A Rake's Redemption

by G. L. Snodgrass

“But, because we are not really of this world. I have hired someone to help you navigate the shoals and rocks.”

  She frowned for a moment. One thing Olivia hated was being told that she needed help. A Caldwell trait. Since she was a little girl she had always insisted on doing things for herself and doing them her way. But he could not allow it in this situation. Too much could go wrong.

  “I don’t see why.” she said.

  “Olivia,” he said, cutting her off before she could get too deep into her arguments for doing what she wanted. “Whenever I entered a new port, I would often hire a pilot to help guide me. Sometimes, only someone with local experience can show you where the hidden crags and snarls are located that can rip out the ship’s bottom in the blink of an eye.”

  She frowned back at him, “I’m not a ship, and this is not some sea voyage. I don’t see why I need help.”

  He sighed heavily. Time to deploy the ultimate argument. “It’s not just you. Think of me,” he said. “My lovely younger sister is about to enter a world with which I am not familiar. A world full of unwritten rules and expectations. A world filled with enemies and people who would love to see us fail.

  “When other young men my age were learning all the ins and outs of society, I was commanding the deck of a ship off the coast of India. I hold no title, so we are admitted to their world only because of my wealth. A wealth that many would like to take from me. Others believe deeply that we do not belong and should be ignored. This and a thousand other reasons are going to make things difficult for me and for you. Think of it as Lady Weston will be helping both of us.”

  Olivia’s brow narrowed as she pondered his words, then slowly nodded. “I will think about it.”

  He laughed, that was her way of delaying in telling him no.

  “Well, think about it quickly, because Lady Weston and her mother will be our guests starting later today.”

  She shook her head. “Why did you even ask my opinion if you have already made up your mind.”

  “I didn’t ask your opinion,” he snapped before he could remind himself that this was not a crewmember questioning his orders. Sometimes he thought it would be so much simpler if it were.

  “Olivia, trust me. You will like Lady Weston. She is intelligent, kind, and in all honesty, sorely in need of our assistance.”

  She continued to frown trying to see beneath his words and discover his true feelings on the matter.

  “It is either that, or we can delay your season until you are older. Bradford has repeatedly told me that you are too young to marry.”

  “Bradford!” she exclaimed. “You listen to that fool? You do know the man wouldn’t see a treasure if he tripped over it. How could you even think that he has any sense?”

  Nathanial shrugged his shoulders. “Regardless, you will either let Lady Weston help you. Or we can wait.”

  Her lips formed a tight line as she obviously tried to find some argument that would stop him. Nathanial waited, he knew how it would turn out, but no need to shame her.

  At last, she nodded and said, “Very well, I will allow Lady Weston to offer me advice.”

  Nathanial laughed. “And, being the smart, intelligent person you are. You are going to realize she knows more than you, so you will use her knowledge and heed her advice.”

  Olivia’s shoulders slumped in defeat. That was one thing about his sister that he could rely on. She was too intelligent not to recognize an opportunity.

  “We will see,” she said as she returned to her eggs.

  Nathanial smiled to himself. That had gone better than he feared.

  .o0o.

  Lady Alice Weston watched the footman help her mother down the steps to the coach. Their meager possessions packed in two cloth bags rested on top. This was so unbelievable, she thought. One moment, mother and herself were but days away from the streets and perhaps debtors prison. The next, they were to live in one of the nicest homes in London.

  In the home of Nathanial Caldwell himself. How was this possible?

  Several of her neighbors had come to their doors to watch. It wasn’t every day this street saw a rich coach and liveried footmen. Mrs. Wheeler from across the way scowled at her. Her eyes boring into her like a badger guarding a bone. The woman had never been accepting of them. Always pleased with their misfortune. The recent turn of events had obviously upset her perception of things.

  Please, Alice silently prayed, do not let it be but a dream.

  “M’Lady?” the footman asked as he held out a hand to assist her into the coach.

  Alice smiled at him and took his hand. As she prepared to step up, she glanced at Jocko sitting in the box, next to the coachman. The ancient sailor smiled kindly and nodded his head.

  The man had remained outside their residence through the night, waiting, and watching. Like a predatory bird, ready to swoop down and strike if necessary.

  No sooner had she taken her seat than the coach was off. The horse's hooves echoed off the row houses to either side. Each step highlighting what they were leaving behind.

  “Tell me again,” her mother demanded. “Who is this man? And why does he need your assistance?”

  Alice sighed, she had explained the situation twice already. Why was her mother having difficulty understanding?

  “He wants me to help his younger sister. And feels that I would be better able to do so if we were his guests.”

  Her mother continued to frown. “And he is going to pay you for this? It doesn’t seem right. A lady, accepting money. It is almost as if you were his employee. No better than a servant. No, it doesn’t seem right. And a merchant no less. What will people say?”

  Alice swallowed her bitter reply. Instead, she tried to calm the situation. The last thing she needed was her mother being upset.

  “I assure you mother, it will not be an issue. Mr. Caldwell is very well respected. He needs my help. Or to be more precise, his younger sister needs my help.”

  Her mother scoffed. “Alice, I am very aware of our serious straights. But, the man doesn’t have a title. He’s not even a Baron. How can he be well respected?”

  Alice bit her tongue and tried to push aside her own concerns. The rumors and innuendo this situation might create did not concern her. Not really. She and her mother had fallen so far, there was little she could fear. No. Her biggest concern at the moment was Mr. Caldwell.

  She had lain awake half the night thinking about the way he had looked at her. The hunger in his eyes. And yet, he had not pressed his advantage. He had not taken her as a mistress when she had so foolishly let him know that she would be amenable to the suggestion.

  Her cheeks grew warm thinking about it. Sighing to herself, she pushed those thoughts aside and tried to focus on her new responsibilities. What was his sister like? Was she socially acceptable? Could the girl handle the ton? From what Alice had gleaned, the two Caldwells had not grown up in society. Their father had been a ship’s owner, a buyer, and seller of goods. The girl had not grown up in the rarefied air of upper society. The ton could be unforgiving and filled with traps and pitfalls. A simple mistake could see a young girl banished. Discarded and forgotten.

  No, she told herself. That would not be allowed to happen with this girl. She would ensure the girl had a brilliant season. She would ensure that Mr. Caldwell was pleased. It was the least she could to for the man who had rescued her twice.

  Sighing, she leaned back into the coach seat and tried to fight down the rising worry in her stomach. A battle she might have lost if the coach hadn’t pulled to a stop outside the residence of Mr. Caldwell. The front door this time, she thought to herself with a smile.

  Once the footman had helped her mother down. The older woman looked up at the imposing building, then along the wide, tree-lined avenue at the other beautiful homes. She turned to Alice and raised an eyebrow. She was impressed, Alice thought.

  Without saying a word, her mother slowly made her way up the stone steps, her frail hand gripping the railing.
Taking one step at a time. The door opened and the butler, Benson, bowed at the waist.

  “Lady Weston,” he said to her mother, “Welcome.”

  Her mother inspected the butler as if she were a sergeant major inspecting a new soldier. Her glare traveled up and down the man until she was satisfied that there was nothing out of sorts. Finally, she nodded her head in approval.

  Alice had to bite back a smile. It was as if the woman was judging whether she would grace this house with her presence. When all the time, she knew perfectly well that if it weren’t for Mr. Caldwell, she might very well be spending the evening before a barren fireplace over a supper of stale bread and last week’s sausage.

  “Lady Alice,” Benson said to her with a dip of his head. “We have placed your mother and yourself in adjoining rooms. Across from Miss Olivia. If they do not meet with your approval. Please let me know.”

  She smiled back at him as she watched two footmen taking their meager possessions up the stairs, “I am sure they will be just fine, thank you.”

  Removing her hat and gloves, she watched her mother take in the impressive entrance hall. Her eyes going from one piece of art to the next sculpture. When she had gathered all the facts, her mother turned to stare with questioning eyes. Who was this man? She seemed to be asking.

  Alice tried not to smile too much, but it was nice seeing her mother surprised.

  “Ah, there you are,” a voice said. A voice that sent a warm sensation through her entire body. She turned to see Mr. Caldwell exiting his study. She wondered if the man ever stopped working. But then she thought of his reputation at the gaming dens and houses of ill repute. Yes, the man didn’t work all the time. Sometimes, he pursued other interests.

  Smiling, she watched as he walked towards them. Impeccably dressed, tall, strong, confident. As if he owned the world and planned on conquering a few more. All man.

  “Mother, may I present Mr. Nathanial Caldwell.”

  “Mr. Caldwell,” her mother said as she examined their host. Extending a hand as if she were greeting a royal prince.

  “Lady Weston. Welcome,” he said as he bowed and held her hand, giving the older woman his full attention. “I wish to thank you for you and your daughter's assistance. Your experience and wisdom will be very helpful. A true godsend.”

  He then smiled at her mother and Alice could have sworn she saw her mother swoon just a little. That smile would melt any woman’s heart.

  He’s a charmer, Alice realized as her mother melted under his attention. An expert at making a woman feel needed. The thought bothered her. Remember, she told herself, this man is a rake at his very core. He knows the way to any woman’s heart. Be careful, or he will take yours.

  Alice was surprised to see her mother smile back at Mr. Caldwell with a hint of pink in her cheeks.

  “Our pleasure, Mr. Caldwell,” her mother said as if it were they rescuing him.

  “Yes, well, Benson will see to your needs,” he said, giving her a look that could have meant something but she had no clue. “I am off to a meeting, and Olivia has not yet returned from visiting a friend. But we will gather at dinner. I am afraid we are rather informal, no need for formal dress, it is just family and friends after all.”

  Alice tried to hide her smile from her mother. The man was being kind. Surely, he knew they possessed nothing that could be considered formal enough for a dinner in a house such as this.

  “Of course, Mr. Caldwell,” she said.

  “Well, until then My Ladies,” he said with a quick bow and he was off. A whirlwind of activity, she realized. The man never stopped.

  “Well,” her mother said as she watched Mr. Caldwell leave. “A most interesting man.”

  “Yes, he is,” Alice said as her mind wandered to the way his voice made her shiver inside.

  “It is a shame about the lack of title though.” Her mother added with a frown.

  “Why?” Alice asked.

  Her mother stared at her for a moment. “Oh, because if he had a title, he might make an excellent match for you. But … Oh well, there will be others.”

  Alice almost chocked. A match. Her mother was being ridiculous. Didn’t she realize her daughter had been within moments of becoming this man’s mistress? And one thing men did not do was marry their mistress.

  Chapter Seven

  Nathanial Caldwell continued to pace in his study. It was the one room in the house where he allowed his worry to come forth. The only place private enough to allow his emotions to show.

  The coal mine in York had flooded, they would have to get one of Mr. Watt’s engines to pump it out. Two of his ships were overdue, not yet alarming, but of concern. The foundry in Sheffield had experienced a small fire. Thankfully, no one had been hurt, but it might impact delivery of the latest order for the War Office.

  These and a dozen other concerns ran through his mind as he turned and retraced his path across the study. His frustration level rose with each step. He should be thinking about his business, instead, his mind kept drifting to thoughts of Lady Weston.

  Her soft brown eyes, the way she looked at him, interested in what he would do next. Like a doe in the forest, ready to flee, yet curious.

  He smiled as he remembered the way she walked across a room. Tall, straight, yet swaying hips that captured his soul and refused to let him look away.

  The woman was perfection.

  Sighing, he turned again, only to be interrupted by a soft knock at the door.

  “Yes,” he barked, upset at being disturbed.

  “Sir,” Benson said as he stepped in, “dinner is served.”

  Nathanial nodded and waved a hand, he would be there when he got there.

  “The ladies are waiting in the parlor,” his butler added as if it held some significance.

  Nathanial frowned for a moment, then realized his butler was subtly reminding him that he would be expected to escort them into the dining room.

  Rolling his eyes at the silly pomp and ceremony, he nodded and followed his butler out of the room.

  “Is Olivia with them?” he asked.

  “No, Sir, I believe she is already in the dining room.”

  Nathanial winced, “Is that a major violation, or a minor one?” he asked.

  Benson smiled slightly. “Minor, Sir, something I am sure can be remedied in the future. Miss Olivia is young and expected to make such mistakes.”

  And I’m not, Nathanial thought. His butler was silently reminding him to be careful unless he bring shame to the house. Nathanial sighed internally, he couldn’t blame Benson, after all, he’d hired the man because of his impeccable understanding of what was expected in high society. He shouldn’t be upset when the man did his job.

  When they reached the parlor door, Nathanial halted for a moment and double checked that everything was in order. His jacket was hanging straight, his cravat was tied correctly. Once he was sure of himself, he nodded to his butler.

  The man opened the door and stepped aside.

  “Ladies,” Nathanial said as he walked into the room. “I am informed that dinner is served. May I escort you in?”

  Lady Alice Weston smiled at him when she saw him step into the room. The kind of smile that could make a man glad to be alive. A warm, welcoming smile that said she was happy to see him. What more could a man ask for, he thought.

  Lady Weston, her mother, was not so quick to smile. She looked at her daughter, then at Nathanial, and again back to her daughter. Her brow furrowed for a moment, then she seemed to remember where she was.

  “Of course, Mr. Caldwell. Thank you,” she said as she took his arm and looked up at him to lead the way.

  When they reached the dining room, Nathanial was pleased to see his sister properly dressed, standing behind her chair waiting for them. Her eyes darted to Lady Weston holding his arm and then to Lady Alice. For just the briefest of moments, he saw a look of doubt pass behind his sister’s eyes and realized the girl was nervous. A fact that he found disconcerting. O
livia was so rarely worried about such things.

  “Lady Weston, Lady Alice, my sister, Olivia Caldwell.”

  The young girl immediately dropped into a perfect curtsey, her back straight, her eyes downcast.

  “It is very nice to meet you, my dear,” Lady Weston said.

  “Yes,” Lady Alice added as she walked around the table to take the girl’s hand. “So very nice.”

  The two women studied each other for a brief moment. Each probably making snap judgments and evaluations.

  “Shall we sit?” Nathanial asked as he held out a chair for Lady Weston. Two of the footmen immediately jumped forward to assist the other ladies to their seat.

  “I do hope you like simple fare,” Nathanial said. “Our cook, Akash is from India, but I assure you, he has learned our English palate. He often complains about it, but he is a master and never fails us.”

  “I am sure it will be fine,” Lady Weston said as she quickly inspected the place settings. The old bat doesn’t miss a thing, Nathanial thought to himself. Every little detail is judged and weighed and probably found wanting.

  Well, let her, he thought with an internal smile. It was the only thing she has left in this world, the belief that she knows what is right and how an Englishman should live his life.

  .o0o.

  Lady Alice Weston quietly examined Miss Caldwell from under her brow as she took a sip of the excellent soup.

  The girl was very pretty. A natural beauty that would be well received by the ton.

  As she continued to watch over the course of the meal, she quickly came to the realization that the girl was intelligent. She kept her words to formal, easy comments, that could not be misconstrued or questioned. She watched and observed, obviously waiting to find out what would happen instead of rushing to judgment.

  Yes, the girl was intelligent. Mature beyond her years. But rough around the edges. Her dress was at least a few years out of style. She hadn’t met them in the parlor, instead waiting for them in the dinning room. And several times, she had seen the girl reach for the wrong fork, only to slow down and follow Alice’s example.