Harlequin Historical September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: The Lone SheriffThe Gentleman RogueNever Trust a Rebel

by Lynna Banning

  ‘Harry was very proud of you,’ he told her.

  ‘Was he?’ Her smile was a little twisted. ‘He was very pleased at my betrothal to a viscount’s son.’

  ‘Naturally he was happy to think your future was secured. I believe you were the reason he continued to haunt the gaming tables, so that he could leave you with an independence. You are a wealthy woman now, Elyse.’

  ‘Am I?’

  ‘Indeed you are. By the time he died Harry had amassed a small fortune, which I hold in trust until you attain your majority in a few days’ time.’

  Elyse forced herself to smile. It was comforting to have money, of course, but it could not compensate for the fact that she had not known her father, that all she had was the memory of his brief, infrequent visits and a few hastily scrawled letters. She shook off her depression and reminded herself how fortunate she was.

  ‘I am glad to know that. Is Lord Whittlewood aware of my changed circumstances?’

  Drew shook his head. ‘I think not. The settlements were agreed at the time of the betrothal, when your father was much less wealthy. I only discovered the small fortune he had amassed after his death and I have not informed the viscount or his son.’

  ‘Then I am sure they will be delighted to receive the news.’

  She turned to gaze out of the window at the passing countryside feeling much more hopeful for the future. She was relieved to know that she would have more to offer William than just herself. His letters had never mentioned money and he had never indicated that the small amount settled upon her was insufficient, but she had felt the difference in their stations and had suspected it was the reason she had not seen William or his family for the past three years.

  * * *

  By the time they reached Marlborough it was late in the afternoon and she remarked that the town was surprisingly busy.

  ‘Aye, which is unfortunate,’ muttered her companion.

  ‘But why? Mr Settle told us our rooms at the Castle were bespoke, so we should have no difficulty.’

  ‘I was hoping we might find accommodation elsewhere.’ When she looked askance at him he added, ‘Getting to sleep in a busy coaching in can be the very devil.’

  ‘We have managed very well so far,’ she said as he handed her down. ‘Do not fret, sir, I shall not plague you with my complaints.’

  Determined to be cheerful, she followed him into the inn and was soon being escorted upstairs by the female servant appointed to act as her lady’s maid for the duration of their stay. Drew remained below to explain to the landlord that the viscount’s secretary had been detained and to confirm that a private parlour had been set aside for them.

  ‘Aye, sir. Lord Whittlewood’s orders have been followed to the letter.’ The landlord replied with a genial smile, but there was a slight frown in his eyes as he regarded Drew. ‘Beggin’ your pardon, sir, but you looks very familiar. Have you stayed here before, perhaps?’

  Drew shook his head and shifted his position so that the light was behind him.

  ‘This is the first time I have enjoyed his lordship’s hospitality.’

  The landlord regarded him for a little longer before saying with a shrug and a smile.

  ‘Strange, because I’m very good with faces.’

  ‘You must see a great many, running such a busy house.’

  ‘Aye, sir, that I do.’ His host puffed out his chest, saying proudly, ‘Been here for twenty-five years, man and boy.’ He broke off, his head going up. ‘Ah, there’s another coach arriving. If you’ll excuse me, sir, I’ll have to go.’

  Drew excused him gladly and ran up the stairs. The inn was full to overflowing and he had his own reasons for wanting to avoid the crowds, but he also wanted to warn Elyse to stay out of the public rooms. The serving maid was just setting off down the stairs with Elyse’s travelling gown and when he knocked on the door Elyse answered it cautiously, opening it only a crack.

  ‘Let me in,’ he said tersely. ‘I need to speak to you.’

  It was only when he had entered and shut the door behind him did the reason for her caution become apparent. She was wearing a dressing gown. It covered her from neck to toe, but from her self-conscious look he guessed she was probably wearing very little beneath. For a moment he forgot what he had come for, distracted by the thought of the delectable figure beneath those folds of frothy lace. When her hand crept to her neck he realised he was staring. He cleared his throat and dragged his eyes to her face.

  ‘I beg your pardon. I just came to warn you to keep to your room or to the private parlour while we are here. The inn is full tonight.’

  ‘Yes, and I know why it is so busy,’ she replied, instantly diverted. ‘There is a masked ball at the Town Hall this evening. Would it not be entertaining to attend?’

  ‘Not at all.’

  She pouted.

  ‘But I have been cooped up in the carriage for so long and I would love nothing better than to dance. It is not as if anyone here would know me, after all.’

  He made a face.

  ‘But this is merely a local assembly, mainly yokels and tradesmen.’

  She looked a little surprised.

  ‘I never thought you would be so top-lofty.’

  ‘I am merely looking out for you. We shall be in Bath in a couple of days, I am sure you will have as much dancing as you wish then.’

  ‘No, I won’t,’ she replied, sighing. ‘I am still in mourning.’

  ‘Of course you are.’ He frowned, berating himself for having forgotten Harry so soon. ‘So there is another reason why you cannot attend a ball.’

  ‘But it is so dull to do nothing but travel and sleep,’ she said. ‘I do not see there could be any harm in it. I am a stranger here, and in a mask and domino no one would have the least guess who I might be. Oh, Drew, do say we can go, just for a little while. No one need ever know.’

  She laid a hand on his arm and looked up at him with such an appeal shining in her dark eyes that for a moment he wished he could give in and take her. But it would not do, not only would it be highly improper for Elyse to attend, he dare not risk it. They were within a day’s ride of Bath and he might be recognised.

  ‘I am sorry, Elyse, but it is not possible. You need to rest. We have another full day’s travel tomorrow.’

  ‘But I can sleep in the chaise tomorrow. Oh, please, Drew, let us look in, just for an hour. I will not dance, if you would rather not, but I should so much like to see everyone in costume and hear the music. Kitty, the serving maid, says the landlord can procure tickets for us.’

  She had moved a step closer, eyes shining, her breast rising and falling beneath the soft folds of her the silk dressing gown. He could smell the light, flowery perfume, reminding him of warm summer days...and nights...

  ‘No.’ Hell and damnation it was all getting out of hand. He backed to the door. ‘Not another word, Elyse. When your maid returns you will dress and join me for dinner, do you understand?’

  He left her then, ignoring her look of burning reproach. He resolved to coax her out of the sullens when they met at dinner. He had some sympathy, for her lively nature must find life very dull, obliged to mourn for a father who had been little more than a stranger to her. Yet it must be done, and he would assure her that life would be infinitely more enjoyable once she was living in luxury in Lord Whittlewood’s household.

  Chapter Four

  When Elyse joined Drew for dinner in the private parlour she had changed into an open robe of blue brocaded silk with a white quilted petticoat and white lace ruffles at her neck and sleeves. His eyes narrowed.

  ‘Very becoming, but I am still not taking you to the masquerade.’

  ‘I would not expect you to do so,’ she told him equably. ‘But I had to change into something, for my travelling dress is very dusty.
Also, Kitty has taken away my ruffles to wash them ready for the morrow. Would you prefer me to sit here without any lace at all?’

  Glancing at her, he thought the ruffles at her elbows might be dispensed with, but not the froth of lace around her shoulders. It covered the delightfully smooth skin of her neck and as his eyes shifted to where it was gathered and tucked into her embroidered stomacher he found himself thinking of the plump swell of her breasts concealed beneath the lace. With an effort he returned his gaze to her face and discovered she was watching him with a speculative look in her eyes. He grinned.

  ‘Do you think to charm me into doing what you wish? You will be disappointed.’

  He was pleased with the way she accepted this. No sulks, merely a smile to acknowledge that he had been right. He invited her to join him at the table and they sat down to dinner in genial accord. The easy companionship lasted throughout the meal and when the covers were removed Drew knew a moment’s disappointment when Elyse said she would retire and leave him to enjoy his brandy alone.

  ‘You do not need to run away,’ he told her. ‘I will gladly take coffee with you, if you would like that—or even tea.’

  Smiling she shook her head.

  ‘No indeed, sir, that is very kind of you but I find I am more fatigued than I had realised. I do not wish to meet my betrothed tomorrow with dark circles beneath my eyes. I shall take my leave of you, and will see you here in the morning for an early breakfast.’

  * * *

  She went out and he settled back in his chair to enjoy the surprisingly fine cognac that the landlord had supplied. This part of the journey was always going to be difficult, it was so close to his old home. He had known a moment’s alarm when the landlord had almost recognised him. Thank heaven he was travelling as Mr Bastion, for his own name would have been instantly recognisable. After all, Castlemain was an uncommon name. He would have been revealed as Sir Edward’s disgraced son, the rebel whose actions had dishonoured the family and caused his mother’s death.

  Restlessly he shifted in his seat. Enough of that. What was done was done, he would live with it, as he had done for the past ten years. Better to think of the task before him, getting Elyse safely to Bath.

  Settle’s sudden illness had struck him as odd and he had been on edge throughout their journey to Marlborough, but they had arrived without mishap. Yet tomorrow’s journey, the last stage on the road to Bath was the most dangerous, or it had been when he had lived here. The secretary had told him things had changed and he sincerely hoped that was the case, and that he would be able to hand Elyse over to Lord Whittlewood tomorrow. After that he would remain just long enough to see Elyse settled and hope to heaven no one recognised him.

  He went to the door to call for more brandy, and when the waiter returned with it he requested the fellow to send someone up to Miss Salforde’s chamber and ask her if she had everything she needed for the night.

  ‘She might like a cup of hot chocolate,’ he added, recalling that there was no fire in her room. ‘The lady is to have whatever she wants, make sure she knows that.’

  The servant gave a little bow and withdrew, returning a few minutes later to inform him that Miss Salforde was asleep.

  ‘Already?’ Drew looked at his watch. It was close upon eleven, later than he had realised.

  ‘Yes sir,’ affirmed the waiter. ‘I knocked quite loud, like, but there was no reply from the lady. Nor her maid. They must be sound asleep.’

  ‘Really? Both of them?’ Drew felt the first stirrings of unease.

  ‘Aye, sir.’ The waiter grinned. ‘Kitty—the maid—must be fair tired out ’cos she ain’t even snoring, which she usually does, enough to wake the dead. T’other maids is always complainin’ of it!’

  Drew was out of his seat even before the waiter had finished speaking and demanding that the landlord be fetched immediately, and that he bring his set of keys.

  ‘It won’t do no good sir,’ protested his host, following him up the stairs a few minutes later. ‘Not if the lady’s shot the bolt.’

  ‘If she has then we shall know she is safe inside,’ retorted Drew.

  It was the work of a moment to open the door. As he feared, the room was empty. One of Elyse’s trunks had the lid thrown back and a jumble of clothes lay over every surface.

  ‘My gawd, she’s been robbed!’ declared the landlord.

  Drew’s mouth thinned. ‘No, I’ve been duped.’

  Leaving the landlord gaping and with orders to lock up again, Drew went to his own room and hurriedly changed his dress. Then he set out for the Town Hall.

  * * *

  Prodigious amounts of arrack punch and strong ale had led to an excess of high spirits and the masked ball was becoming riotous. Elyse wondered if she had been wise to attend. It was all very well having Kitty waiting downstairs for her, but here in the assembly room she was alone and unprotected.

  She had quickly discovered that a public ball was a vastly different affair to the select private balls she had attended in Scarborough. She was thankful it was a masquerade, although her pink domino was not all-enveloping and hung open at the front to display her brocaded silk skirts. Her gown was as lavish as anything to be seen at this provincial assembly and she had attracted no little attention when she had come in. At first she had enjoyed dancing, secure behind the anonymity of the silk mask that covered her face. Everyone she met tried to guess her identity and she was amused by the idea that she might be Lady So-and-So’s daughter, or Lord So-and-So’s wife, but along with the deferential attentions of those who thought they might be acquainted she was subjected to the unpleasant sensation of being ogled by perfect strangers. She had been ogled before, of course, but in Scarborough she had known she was amongst friends, and her aunt was always there, in the background.

  Here she knew no one. Many of the gentlemen were thinly disguised with no more than a strip of black silk across their eyes, but some were swathed from head to toe, like the tall figure in the black domino who swept her away just as she had been about to dance with a ruddy-faced gentleman that she suspected might be a local farmer.

  ‘My dance, I think.’

  His voice was scarcely more than a gravelly whisper as he led her to join a set that was forming. The flickering candles cast heavy shadows and his face was nothing more than a pale blur beneath the enveloping hood. It did not matter, it was only a country dance and her partner proved to be an excellent dancer. As the music ended he held on to her hand, his grip tightening when she tried to pull away.

  ‘Two dances is the norm, I believe.’

  Again that breathy murmur. She glanced down at his long fingers wrapped about her hand. Frothy lace ruffles covered his wrist and she noted the wide velvet cuff on his sleeve. No country tailor had made that coat. She tried a little smile.

  ‘Thank you, good sir, but I think I would rather not.’

  She gave a little tug but his grip was like iron.

  ‘Two dances, madam.’

  The voice was faint but implacable. The musicians were striking up again. He would have to release her at some point in the dance, but to run off then would only bring the sort of attention she needed to avoid if she was to maintain her anonymity. With a little shrug she gave herself up to the dance, but as they skipped and turned she kept glancing up into the darkness of that hood, trying to see the face beneath. As last she was rewarded as a movement of the dance coincided with a flare of candlelight that pierced the black shadows, but it only showed her that he was wearing a Venetian mask, white and featureless.

  Quickly Elyse averted her eyes. She wished now she had never looked at him, for the mask covered his whole face save for the eyes, which gleamed out at her in a manner she could only describe as predatory. She missed her step and he caught her around the waist, pulling her to him when she would have fallen. He was solid as a rock. She sh
ould have been grateful that he had supported her, instead she felt an uncomfortable sense of danger in being so close to this stranger. The crowd around them roared their approval and Elyse’s face flamed. She tried not to listen to the bawdy remarks, nor to notice the lewd winks and grins of the men.

  Silently her partner set her back in her place and they finished the dance. This time she was ready. Even before the last note faded she snatched her hand away, made him a hasty curtsy and slipped off into the crowd.

  She thought she might leave, but too many people barred her way, too many gentlemen wanted to dance with her. As the evening progressed Elyse became more uneasy. Her partners began to squeeze her fingers, leaning closer until their wine-sodden breath could not be avoided and placing their hands on her back as they danced. And all the time she was aware of the figure in the black domino. Whenever she looked up he was there, watching the dancers. He seemed to be shadowing her. She had the irrational thought that he was like some bird of prey, waiting to strike. Her only recourse was to keep dancing.

  That was not difficult, for there was no lack of partners, but the company was becoming ever more rowdy and the gentlemen much more free with their lascivious comments. Some were even inclined to follow her off the floor so that she was obliged to accept another invitation to dance, just to avoid them. This worked for a while, until her partner refused to give her up to the next gentleman. From their loud, indecorous language she feared both gentlemen had imbibed far too freely of the wine. Her partner tightened his grip.

  ‘No, no, sir, the lady is promised to me for a second dance, is that not so, madam?’

  He clung to her fingers with one hand while the other clasped her around the waist in a very proprietorial manner.

  ‘Damn your eyes, sir, I say she will dance with me!’ declared his rival in a bluff, angry voice. ‘Come, madam.’

  The man grabbed her free hand. She noticed that his short, stubby fingers were brown with snuff stains and his ragged fingernails rimed with dirt. Elyse was beginning to feel seriously alarmed, especially since no one seemed to be taking any notice of what was going on. Certainly no one was coming to her aid.