But enough of the maudlin and on to the more important news of the day!
Rumor has it that love - and perhaps more! - is afoot at Fairhaven and its infamous house party! True, there was a bit of an incident involving the Comte De La Croix and Lord Hathaway as the questionable French count attempted to steal a kiss from an unwilling lady and the duke came to her rescue. However, I do believe that speaks more to De La Croix's lack of good breeding than anything else. Other than, perhaps, the fact that the duke is not quite so dastardly as has been assumed? This is not the first time that, contrary to other rumors, the duke has been "caught out" defending a lady's honor. Perhaps there is hope for him after all. Besides, he is a duke. Who can stay angry with a duke for longer than a month or two? Other than perhaps his duchess?
And speaking of, there is rumor buzzing about London that there might yet be one or more weddings in the offing before the Little Season arrives this fall. Who are the lucky couples? I cannot say, for I don't know, but, like you, I eagerly anticipate finding out!
-Madame C
For three straight days, Adam did nothing but court and woo Abigail to the best of his ability. Not overtly, of course because neither of them wanted to find themselves leg-shackled at the end of the house party, but enough so that it was remarked upon by several people that he was clearly showing her favoritism. And that was not a bad thing.
For instance, it kept away the sort of men that Abigail always hoped to avoid, such as those who saw her only as a source of nearly unlimited funds and not as a desirable woman. It also made Adam seem more respectable in many ways for it was frequently remarked that if the well-regarded Miss Northrup could tolerate his company, then perhaps the erstwhile Lord Hathaway was not quite so bad as all that.
For her part, Abigail was determined to get what she wanted from Adam, which was a night in his bed. Or two, if he was feeling generous. To that end, whatever activity he suggested they participate in, she did without hesitation. The night after the kiss that sealed their deal, when the weather was a bit cooler, it was a lengthy walk into the nearby village along with many of the other guests. Which, of course, included the still-sniping Lady Josephine who did not seem to be enjoying much of the house party at all and had to be lightly reprimanded several times by Lady Enwright to stop being such a grouch. And that such actions did not become a lady.
Two days later, it was an expedition to the remains of an old French-Norman church that sat on the extreme far edge of Fairhaven and took almost an hour to reach on foot through thick brambles and a large, grassy field that was normally divided almost neatly in two by a small stream that was all but vanished now, given the long dry spell the area had been suffering through. There were fewer guests on that expedition since most of the ladies did not wish to ruin their gowns, but the moment Adam suggested joining the party, Abigail had eagerly agreed.
She had even taken the oversized and rather ugly sun bonnet that Miss Cutwright - who, for some inexplicable reason was still bed-ridden and demanding attention from Dr. Hastings - demanded Elsie fetch from the closet. The chaperone insisted that she didn't wish for Abigail to become sunburned and Mr. and Mrs. Northrup think she was not overseeing her charge. Which was, of course, ridiculous, since the woman hadn't even been out of bed since they had arrived and she had tripped over one of Lord Moringham's ever-present spaniels on the way to breakfast that very first morning at Fairhaven.
Not that Abigail cared, however, for it gave her plenty of time to be alone with Adam. Or as alone as one could possibly be in a house full of party guests who seemed to pop out of every nook and cranny at the slightest provocation.
Just as Miss Collins and Lord Langton had the night before when several people, Abigail and Adam included, were in Fairhaven's small art gallery admiring Enwright's newest acquisition from one of the old Italian masters. Lord Hunt had been remarking upon the lovely use of color and light when, out of nowhere, a seemingly solid wall had, much to everyone's shock, swung open and the couple had tumbled out. That Miss Collins' dress gaped rather a bit in the front and that Lord Langton was missing his cravat was beside the point. What had truly shocked everyone was the secret passageway that ran behind the art gallery and on into the portrait gallery in the opposite wing of the home.
That incident had been enough to end the art tour and send everyone back into one of the ballrooms to discuss the hidden passageways and wonder about how far they went through the house. For Abigail and Adam, however, it was the perfect opportunity to slip away and spend some time on the now-abandoned art gallery's balcony where they watched the clouds play across the moon. And, of course, sneak a little kiss or two, just like any properly courting couple ought.
On the third day, however, the heavens opened up and it finally rained in torrents, the grounds around Fairhaven becoming a sodden mess in no time. Forced indoors, Abigail and Adam passed a pleasant afternoon playing whist, piquet, and vingt-et-un with some of the other guests who had, for one reason or another, began to couple up for what was left of the house party.
By the time he retired for the night, after another formal dinner where this time he took his rightful place near the head of the table, and a rather humorous round of charades after dinner, Adam was in a generally good mood. Thus far, Abigail seemed receptive to his courting of her and he was beginning to wonder if he might be able to persuade her to make it a permanent situation.
He desired her almost to distraction and they rubbed along well together. He doubted that he would find a woman better suited to his temperament and, well, Society marriages were often based upon far less of a solid foundation. Lord only knew that his proposed marriage to Lady Diana had been nothing more than a contract. So why could a marriage to Abigail not work to both of their benefits? Especially since there was far more between them, including genuine attraction.
After all, he was a duke. He didn't need her dowry, though they had never spoken of the topic directly. It was just assumed between them, especially given how they had met, that it was of no consequence. And it wasn't. If Abigail would have him, Adam would give the coin back to her father if necessary. Just so long as she agreed to be his duchess.
The very thought of spending a lifetime bedding Abigail made Adam's blood fire, and he laid awake in bed for a very long time wondering why he had ever suggested courting her. Especially as she was willing to be bedded at right this very instant. Oh, right. He was attempting to be a better, more moral man. A gentleman. Damn it all, anyway.
So when a light knock came at his door at some time just after midnight, Adam was still wide awake. And thankfully, he had left at least two of the candles in the holders scattered about the room still lit. He hated bumbling around in the dark like a fool, especially in a room he did not know.
"Come," he called, not too concerned about his state of undress. His reputation might be improving but he was in no way foolish enough to believe that all was forgiven. Or that any young lady other than Abigail would risk her reputation to come to his door in the middle of the night.
He was right, for as soon as he called out the welcome, he saw Rayne's thick head of hair pop through the doorway. "You decent, Hath?" he asked, pushing his glasses up on his nose as he entered.
"Decent enough," Adam replied as he sat up. It struck him them that in recent years, this was the first time he had seen Rayne looking like the young and scholarly earl that he had been in his youth. It was curious and yet somehow refreshing. And hopeful. If the scholar in Rayne was still there after all these years of breaking female hearts across London and the Continent combined, then perhaps there was still hope for Adam as well.
"Good. Good." Though he was still fully dressed, there was something slightly off about the earl, as if he had just received bad news.
"Something I can help you with?" Adam asked, wishing that Rayne would get to the point so he could go back to dreaming about Abigail.
Shaking his head, Rayne gave a little cough as if he was embarrassed about being
there at all. "Not precisely. I've just come to tell you that I'm leaving. Harry and I both are, likely well before the sun is up in the morning. Other business. Family business, actually. Very important and must be attended to immediately."
Confused, Adam furrowed his brow. "Is it your mother?"
He knew that Lady Raynecourt was still rather outrageous in her old age and had recently announced that she would holding the last of her annual Christmas balls at Fieldown this coming year, stating that she was growing too old to preside over the festivities and lamenting that there was no one to take her place. It had been a none-too-subtle hint to Rayne that he should think about finding a bride and settling down, but thus far, the earl didn't seem to be taking the hint. Or if he had, he was soundly ignoring it.
"No, not my mother, thank God!" Rayne exclaimed as he started to pace the room. "Just something with Frost. As I'm sure you know, he's off on his honeymoon at the moment and his sister Sarah has gotten it in her head that she wants to retire from Society after seeing the bit about Miss Northrup in the papers. So she's set off for Hallowby Grange with just a maid, two coachmen and a handful of outriders." He ran a hand through his hair. "Blasted chit! Her mother and sisters are in Bath, taking in the waters. I don't know how Sarah managed to avoid making the trip with them, but she did. And now she's all but unescorted across England. She'll be lucky if she's not ruined by the time she reaches Hallowby."
During the just-concluded season, it had been rather common to see Rayne escorting Lady Sarah Tillsbury from the theater to a musicale to a ball and then back again. Well, after Rayne had dismissed his last mistress, a rather sharp-tongued, she-devil by the name of Miss Marietta Crestwood. Personally, Adam couldn't tolerate the woman and had no idea what Rayne had seen in her beyond the obvious.
Then, Frost, Sarah's brother and Rayne's long-time friend, had taken over the protection of a would-be soiled dove, Miss Lavinia Tremont, who was really the long-lost granddaughter of a duke from somewhere in the north country. When a scurrilous Frenchman had attempted to kidnap Miss Tremont and had threatened Frost's family, it had been Rayne who had stepped up to protect Lady Sarah.
At the time, Adam had been too buried in his own misery over the Lady Diana Incident to pay much attention to the drama with Rayne and the Tillsbury family. However he remembered noting that it seemed that both Lady Sarah and Rayne were more than a little besotted with each other, and it had puzzled him that they had not announced their own engagement shortly after Frost had wed Lavinia.
Now, Adam could see the lines of worry etched in Rayne's face. So perhaps there was something more between Rayne and Sarah after all. If that were Abigail, Adam knew that he would be just as fearful and upset. "I understand. You must go to her. There are many dangers about, as we both know. Highwaymen."
"Or worse." Rayne practically spat those last two words as he paced Adam's room.
"Do you need support?" Adam asked as he rose from the bed, knowing that at this point he would not get any more sleep tonight. "I can go with you if you like. I know that all has not been well between us as of late, but I am a crack shot. A little additional muscle never hurt either." He didn't wish to leave Abigail, at least not without speaking to her first, but he suspected that she would understand. Especially since she knew how hard he was working to restore his reputation.
To his surprise, Rayne shook his head. "No. Harry has some fellow Runners out now keeping track of her. Sarah is, shall we say, in an emotional spot at the moment and I am afraid that if I show up with a rescue party of sorts, she might do something rash. She's a bit unpredictable at the moment, damn the chit."
"Well, the offer still stands if you need me." Adam had a sister that he would die to protect, and, even though Rayne and Sarah were not siblings, he knew the bonds of friendship between them ran deep. He would do the same for Sophia if necessary. And had in his own way, he supposed.
"I merely came to inform you because, well, I knew you would understand." Rayne's pacing had slowed a bit. "I also know that, despite our words the other day you still believe I was here to keep tabs on you."
Adam shrugged. "You were. There is no sense in denying it any longer."
This time, it was Rayne's turn to look embarrassed. "I was. But I was here more to check up on both Selby and De La Croix than anything else. I swear."
"Well, the Frenchman is gone." Adam was glad of that. More than he could say, actually.
"Thanks to you," the earl replied as he toyed with his pocket watch. "Which is the other reason I came."
Adam rose, wrapping the bed sheet tightly around him so that he could preserve some degree of modesty. "Go on." He did not like the way Rayne's demeanor had changed in the last moment or two.
"Selby is still here, and, according to additional information I just received, Candlewood is concerned that he might do something rash now that it is clear that you have rescinded your approval and that your standing in Society is recovering, largely because the extent of his debts is becoming known."
"He would come after Sophia?" Adam's blood ran cold.
The earl shrugged. "He could seduce her. She is still infatuated with him after all. I would hate to see her be trapped like that."
"What can I do?" Now Adam understood why Rayne had come to him at this late hour. It had taken some time for the man to get to the point, but that was the earl's way. Always had been and likely always would be.
"Keep a close and careful eye on your sister. I know she isn't speaking to you at the moment, but she is speaking to your mother. And I believe that you are now speaking to your mother as well." Clearly the earl had been watching the Reynolds family's interactions closely.
Adam nodded. "We are. Just barely, but we are."
"Good. Then speak to your mother first thing. Harry has other men on his way here and Enwright has been informed as well. Between the lot of you, Sophia should not be ruined." Rayne reached into his jacket pocket and removed a sealed piece of parchment. "And give your mother this. It is from Candlewood. I know she will heed his council."
"I shall do so," Adam promised as Rayne moved towards the door, his mission here obviously complete.
As the earl turned to leave, he paused, his hand stilling on the door. "And I know this will sound odd coming from me, especially as I am saying it to you. But watch over Miss Northrup as well. As I have said many times, your interest in her has not gone unnoticed, and I believe, as do others, that she is coming to mean a great deal to you."
"She is. She does." If Adam had any hope of marrying Abigail in the near future, there was no sense in denying his attraction to her. Or how much she meant to him.
Rayne nodded. "Then keep an eye on her as well. If Selby cannot get to Sophia, he might try to strike at your family, and at you in particular, though her. Not to mention that she has a dowry and fortune that makes Sophia's look like mere pin money."
"I am aware." Once more, Adam refused to lie. He had vowed to be a better man and he would. "It is not an issue between us, but she has spoken of how difficult trusting men in the past has been." Then he grumbled. "And we all know about De La Croix, do we not?"
"Just so." There was a weariness in Rayne's voice that had not been there before and for a moment, Adam felt sorry for the man. He was a scholar; not a spy. And yet somehow, he had been caught up in Candlewood's spy game. "Anyway, Harry's men should be here within a day, if not by nightfall tomorrow." He checked his watch. "Or rather tonight. Anyway, be on guard and speak to your mother, please." Then he was gone and Adam sank back onto his bed.
When had his life come to such madness? He honestly had no idea. He was accustomed to things being just so, of a neat and orderly life where he was obeyed simply because he was a duke. Then, he had thrown over Lady Diana and somehow upended his world in the process.
For a long time, Adam did nothing but stare out the window and across the lawn where, even on a rainy night such as this, flickering glows from numerous lanterns still danced in the distant garden
s, beckoning anyone brave enough to venture out into the mist. When he had been younger, Adam wouldn't have hesitated to whisk a woman out into the darkness, rain or no, just so that they could frolic in the damp before he slid his aching cock inside of her, eager to find his pleasure. But not hers.
Now, tonight, when Rayne had brought the news of his departure and with it warnings, Adam had thought more of Sophia and Abigail's safety than anything else. That was a radical change for a man like him, one who in the past only sought out his own pleasure and didn't give a damn for the feelings or needs of anyone else. Like the day he had stated he would not wed Lady Diana. He hadn't given a damn about her or her feelings. Or his mother and how she would take the news that he was refusing to wed the daughter of her best friend.
What had changed in him and when? Adam didn't know precisely. Perhaps it was when he had been tossed out of Lady Carlisle's ball. Or when Lady Minton's butler had slammed the door in his face the night of her season-ending dinner party where he'd had a long-standing invitation. Or perhaps it hadn't been until that morning here at Fairhaven when he had been awoken by twittering birds in a state of embarrassing dishevelment to find a mink-haired garden goddess watching over him.
Whenever or wherever didn't matter, he supposed. What mattered was that he had changed. And it wasn't just in his mind. Others were seeing the change as well. Rayne clearly had. And for the first time since that miserable night at Lord Devonmont's affair, Adam felt a small glimmer of hope. Perhaps he could be a better man, one worthy of someone like Abigail. He prayed that it could be so.
But not yet. There was still more work to be done. Starting with protecting his sister from Selby. And he would do it. The cad would not have her, not if Adam had any say in the matter.
The Kiss of a Rogue Page 17