A Rake to the Rescue

by Elizabeth Beacon

  ‘It was kind of you to carry Toby upstairs. He ends up too weary to get to bed on his own after throwing himself into his adventures all day and he’s getting heavy.’

  ‘Peg says you need a proper rest before you have to cope with his starts on your own again.’

  It sounded so lonely, being alone with the care of her lively son, but hadn’t she been on her own long before Toby was born? ‘I shall do very well after a good night’s sleep, Mr Haile. It was too hot and noisy in London to rest before it was time to get up again.’

  ‘I dare say, and Carrowe House creaks and moans so loudly it can startle me awake even though I am used to it, so for a stranger to try to sleep there must be nigh impossible.’

  ‘At least with this sort of peace and quiet Toby might not wake with the dawn as he has every day since we landed in England,’ she admitted wearily.

  And now their mouths were saying a lot of polite nothings while a deep sort of sadness settled into her thoughts. Magnus Haile had shown her such sensual promise, so many heady possibilities. It felt so lonely to sit and talk about nothing much while Jem drifted in and out with this and that and Peg appeared now and again to shake her head at plates only half-empty and an odd sort of tension in the room to go with the lingering heat of the day.

  Before Magnus could argue himself out of the door and over the Heath to his brother’s house for the night, a piercing shriek cut through the soft evening air and Hetta froze with panic. It was Toby and he sounded furious or frightened and maybe both. Magnus Haile’s long and unimpeded legs got him upstairs before she hardly had the time to pick up her skirts and hurry after him. Breathless and stumbling on the unfamiliar landing, she had to remind herself where Toby’s room was and calm down to deal with whatever lay ahead. She snatched in a deep breath and ran towards her son’s furious voice. At least he was yelling defiance, so there couldn’t be too much wrong with him.

  ‘No, let me go! He’ll get away,’ Toby was arguing as he struggled in Magnus’s arms. Hetta was terrified her headstrong son would wriggle away and throw himself into the dark to pursue whatever had frightened him, never mind still being three-parts asleep. ‘Get off me. He’s getting away,’ her son roared at Magnus, who still managed to hold his writhing body without hurting him somehow.

  ‘Stop that nonsensical row this minute, Toby Champion,’ she ordered sharply. Toby’s struggles stilled and he slewed in Magnus’s arms.

  ‘There was a masked man, Mama, there really was, and he will get away if you don’t tell him to let go.’

  ‘No, he won’t,’ Magnus said grimly and went to the top of the stairs to bellow at Wulfric Haile’s unconventional manservant to search the grounds.

  ‘Toby has vivid dreams,’ Hetta told Magnus as he strode back into the room to help hold Toby until he was awake enough to know he could not fly.

  ‘Not this time,’ Magnus muttered in her ear, then told Toby to stop making a fool of himself. ‘Your mother says you are bright for your age, but I haven’t seen much sign of it so far,’ he said critically.

  Hetta almost laughed when she felt her son stiffen as if mortally insulted.

  ‘Grandpapa says I have a fine questing mind,’ he protested.

  ‘Well, he should know, but you seem like a stubborn, run-of-the-mill sort of brat to me and very much like my nephews who are a set of slow-tops, although their mothers swear they are exceptional.’

  Hetta felt her son tremble with fury at the very idea of being thought ordinary. Then he must have decided it sounded acceptable after all, since he grinned as if it was a huge compliment. Magnus met her eyes over Toby’s head and nodded faintly at a shred of fine white cloth caught in the window latch and the faint imprint of a foot on the coverlet. Hetta saw proof someone really had been here and only just stopped a horrified shudder Toby was sure to feel. They hadn’t had time to make enemies yet and Hetta doubted even her grandmother would kidnap Toby and have him sent to a strict school to make a cowed young gentleman out of her bright boy. It made a horrid sort of sense someone was desperate enough to kidnap him to stop her father getting too near the truth of the last Earl of Carrowe’s murder, though. Sir Hadrian Porter would drop the case like a chestnut plucked straight from the fire and the promise she had made her father not to get close to his cases suddenly made sense, except it hadn’t stopped someone coming after them anyway.

  ‘You had best come downstairs, young man. You can doze on the sofa in the parlour while I have tea and Mr Haile drinks his port, but do spare us any more of your nightmares,’ she declared as if she really thought it was one.

  ‘I am very hungry,’ Toby muttered, so things were back to normal. Luckily his talent for sleeping as if his life depended on it meant he was halfway there already. He didn’t argue when Magnus picked him up and Hetta was too glad he was here to argue she could manage. Toby tucked his head against Magnus’s neck as if he trusted him to sort things out and drifted back to dreamland.

  ‘A man needs to keep body and soul together,’ Magnus said as he waited for Hetta to go down ahead of them.

  Even though the open window was now closed and shuttered behind them, it felt like an outrage someone took advantage of the night to break in. She was tempted to find every open window in the house and have it shuttered and barred. Closing the stable door after the horse had bolted. She would not let a rogue run their lives, but what a relief Magnus Haile was still here and not half a mile away at his younger brother’s house for the night. She hated to think what might have happened if the sound of him thundering up the stairs had not scared the man off. Better not be wistful about having such a strong protector always on hand but Lady Drace was a fool to turn him away. She obviously had no idea of the dangers ahead of a lone woman with a tiny and dependent child.

  No point in her howling for the moon, though. She couldn’t take a lover when she had a son to make it impossible. She managed not to trip over her own feet as she went downstairs and refused to let Toby see how frightened she was. He was virtually asleep when Magnus shook his head at Peg and Cook, waiting at the bottom of the stairs to fight off the world with skillets and carving knives. Hetta hastily gathered cushions and made an improvised bed on the chaise in the little sitting room so Magnus could lay Toby down. She covered her son with her best cashmere shawl and he sighed and stuck his thumb in his mouth and fell asleep. She hoped nobody had noticed the tear that slipped down her cheek.

  ‘Trust Peg to watch over him, Mrs Champion,’ Magnus said softly, as if he knew she wanted to sit by him all night. ‘I will sleep for an hour or so, then take over, so she can get her beauty sleep.’

  ‘I’ll not let any harm come to him, missus, so you go and talk to Mr Magnus. We’ll both be here when you get back.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Hetta whispered and knew it made sense to talk elsewhere, but leaving Toby was so hard. ‘I must not tie him to my apron strings,’ she said after she followed Magnus out of the room to whisper in private. ‘There’s no surer way to make him rebel, but I don’t want whoever was here tonight near him ever again.’

  ‘No sign of him now, Mr Magnus,’ Jem said as he heard them speaking even this softly and popped his head out of the kitchen door.

  ‘Nothing more to be done tonight, then, but can you sleep here and leave my brother’s house to look after itself for once?’

  ‘Aye, it’ll be safe enough. I’d back Ma to see off a troop of cracksmen and she don’t hold with fresh air, so they won’t find a way in even if she don’t shoot them before they get close enough to try their luck.’

  ‘As well I’m staying here, then. I don’t want to boil or be shot by mistake.’

  ‘Aye, and it’s dandy here now,’ Jem said and went off to find a chair to doze in with one eye open. Hetta wouldn’t want to be the one to try to pass such a tough and knowing young man by as well as Magnus Haile. Toby was safe as he could be anywhere.

  ‘You did
n’t argue about me staying here,’ Magnus said when they were alone.

  ‘I am always willing to let propriety go hang if my son’s welfare is in the balance. He is far more important than such empty nonsense.’

  ‘Not nonsense. You know as well as I do we are not to be trusted alone together for very long.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about our kiss, so your reputation is safe.’

  ‘You know that’s not what I meant,’ he said and sounded annoyed she was refusing to take his scruples seriously.

  ‘What I mean is I love my son, Mr Haile.’

  ‘Of course you do, but what about your good name?’

  ‘What about it? Do you seriously think I worry much about it after travelling halfway around the Continent when Toby was a baby?’

  ‘No, I suspect you did that to make certain your father could not send you back to your grandmother.’

  Hmm, that stopped her in her tracks for a moment. Of course, she had, but not many people saw past her supposed impulsiveness and she wished he hadn’t either. Even her father had never actually asked why she set off alone except for her baby. ‘Do you, Mr Haile?’ she said coolly enough, but he was even more dangerous than she thought now he added acute understanding to the dark good looks.

  ‘Yes, I do. Don’t forget I have kissed you, Mrs Champion, so I know how much of a disguise you wear to fool the world. You are nothing like the sober and timid little mouse you pretend to be on the inside, are you?’

  ‘No, I would probably be dead by now if I was,’ she said soberly as all the times when it was best to go unnoticed piled up to say she had been right then, but somehow she didn’t want to be plain and unmemorable Mrs Champion any more. Not here and not with him.

  ‘You are a redoubtable lioness instead, then?’

  ‘Indeed, and you know what they say about them and their cubs, don’t you?’ she said proudly and felt as if the battle going on under their words could be more painful than the wildest fight with Bran in the old days.

  ‘You are unsafe, then?’

  ‘Do I look as if I am?’ she demanded, standing with her hands on her hips and her spectacles firmly in place again.

  ‘Yes. You look like more temptation than you will ever know,’ he said huskily, but how could she believe him when he had obviously been so besotted with a beauty like Lady Drace that he had thrown caution to the four winds? ‘But I am very wary of females with hidden depths nowadays,’ he added bitterly and of course he was, so why was she bothering to pretend it didn’t matter if he liked or loathed her?

  Because she didn’t want to care too much and she had Toby to put first—oh, and she had wed Bran in a fine romantic haze of hopes and dreams and they all fell flat on their shiny little faces.

  ‘Good. I am wary of males with any depth at all. Now I have a boy to watch over, sir, if you will excuse me?’

  So he did, the great fool.

  Chapter Ten

  Hetta thanked Peg for watching over Toby, then stared down at her son as soon as they were alone again, her brooding gaze softened on his sleeping face. He was worth it, this boy of hers. Worth being lonely for, worth being awkward and angry with Magnus Haile when she didn’t really want to be either deep down. Truth to tell she longed for comfort, longed for him and his strong arms around her that would feel like a taste of heaven at this moment. Instead she sat lonely and shaken and uncertain and gazed at her son as if to say she was sorry she had taken her eyes off him long enough to notice what a fine man Magnus Haile was. The memory of his kiss haunted her, though. She shifted uneasily in her chair, then stilled when it seemed as if Toby might wake for a moment. No, he murmured in his sleep and turned over as if her intent gaze disturbed him. Hearing him sigh and drop back to sleep, she told herself nothing mattered if he was safe.

  She thought about tonight again. How well had the attempt to snatch Toby been planned? It felt desperate and impulsive, yet whoever made it must know there was no dog nearby tonight to warn a stranger was lurking in the shadows. And she and Toby would have been alone in the house but for Cook and Peg, if not for Magnus Haile’s solitary drunken-spree misery, and who would have had the foresight to plan for that? Neither he nor Jem Caudle would have been here to scare off a kidnapper if not for the man’s secret love affair with a brandy bottle. Hetta felt suspicious of everyone she had met since they’d landed in England but the ones under this roof right now. Oh, and Lady Aline—she trusted her almost by instinct—just as she trusted Magnus not to play both sides against the middle. He was here by accident tonight and would keep his despair to himself. Had Magnus and Jem Caudle spoilt a daring attempt to snatch Sir Hadrian Porter’s grandson and get the King’s Bloodhound off a murderer’s tail tonight? If they had, someone had not been clever enough to spy out the land first or he would have seen Magnus through the open windows before a furtive entry at the back of the house where Toby’s nightlight gave away which room he was sleeping in.

  Too restless now to be still, she adjourned to a section of hallway where she could watch Toby’s makeshift bed while she paced softly enough not to disturb him. The most obvious person to take advantage of a situation was the one who had created it. She couldn’t let her dislike of Lord Carrowe for making love to the young girl Lady Drace must have been ten years ago, then casting her aside for richer pickings, blind her. But even after what had happened Hetta was glad to be away from Carrowe House. She paused in her pacing to wrap her arms about her body. She felt cold even thinking about that sad old place where questions about a brutal murder seemed to haunt every dusty corner.

  ‘Here.’ Magnus’s voice was soft enough, but the sound of it still made her jump. Her heart raced in what she told herself was shock at his sudden appearance, not wild excitement he was here in the almost darkness with her, which suddenly felt rich with possibilities. ‘You gave Toby your shawl and one of the girls must have left this one behind.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I am sorry,’ she whispered as she wrapped the soft shawl around her, noticing vaguely that it was far less fine than her own. She felt restive and hard done by at her own father’s benign neglect at times, but the Haile girls had been through so much hardship thanks to their father that she was ashamed of herself for complaining about Sir Hadrian’s far lesser sins.

  ‘You are tired and worried and have been shunted from pillar to post ever since you got home, Mrs Champion,’ he said in such a neutral voice she decided she preferred him being brusque and frowning. ‘I am sorry there is no better gentleman present to help you tonight,’ he said stiffly.

  ‘I will take any help I can get to keep Toby safe,’ she said lightly, but it wouldn’t do, she simply didn’t have enough lightness in her after such a day.

  ‘Even mine?’

  ‘Especially yours,’ she said with a great sigh as she let herself soften at last and nearly stumbled with weariness. All the steel being a mother had put in her spine threatened to melt at his soft question, so she met the glint of his dark eyes in the near darkness and refused to pretend any more.

  ‘Why?’ he asked rather huskily, as if he felt a touch overwhelmed she might trust him when she knew too much about him.

  ‘You are a protector, not a destroyer.’

  ‘How can you say so? You know how I was that day at Dover and when you got here today.’

  ‘Yes, you were frustrated and out of temper. If you don’t think I have seen such things before, but with added venom, you have a very rosy view of my life so far, Mr Haile. Even when you are grim and moody and in your cups there’s no malice in you and if you truly didn’t care what anyone thought you would worry less.’

  ‘I might not if I was a pompous ass like my brother Gresley,’ he said absently, as if he was flattered she thought him a better drunk than Bran and was trying not to admit it.

  Hetta was too busy wondering if his brother was quite as self-satisfie
d as he liked to pretend, to wonder about the insecurities life and Lady Drace had put in such a well-born and physically powerful man as Magnus Haile. She would keep that thought to puzzle over later, when she couldn’t sleep as she sat by Toby’s side and worried about him and the future. ‘He is an earl, though, isn’t he?’ she said and hoped there was no hint of her unlikely suspicion his own brother knew a lot more about his father’s murder than the Earl was ever likely to admit. ‘Perhaps noblemen don’t need to worry about good manners and propriety as we mere mortals do.’

  ‘I thought you didn’t anyway, but I need my beauty sleep now even if you do not. Might I suggest we continue this conversation tomorrow when we are a little more refreshed?’ he said as if they were saying polite farewells at a ton party.

  Hetta let him guide her back to her seat as if it was in a box at the opera because she was so tired she was almost aching with it and she probably wouldn’t sleep, but he didn’t need to know. ‘Goodnight,’ she murmured softly enough not to wake Toby.

  ‘Goodnight,’ he whispered and bent so unexpectedly close he had snatched a kiss from her undefended mouth before she could even think about moving or glaring at him. Now she would not sleep for missing the feel of him against her. She cast a brooding look at the seat he must have taken up in the hallway to watch over her as she watched over Toby. She wondered if Jem Caudle was sitting in a shadowy corner with a green baize door propped open to furtively watch Magnus watch her watch Toby, or if Peg was doing the same to him. Her thoughts got so tangled as she thought out the chances anyone but Toby would get a wink of sleep tonight she lost the thread altogether.

  * * *

  She awoke among a luxury of cushions in her absent hostess’s favourite armchair to another glowing morning after her best sleep in months. She frowned at the thought of Magnus being able to watch her sleep for the second time in a day and waited for her son to leap out of his makeshift bed, as impatient for this day as he had been for all the others in his short life so far.