“I think I’d like that,” she said. “Perhaps we might just talk? I’m not sure I want to be alone.”
“You are surrounded by people who love you,” Freddie reminded her as he steered her away from the dance floor towards a quiet corner.
“No, I’m all alone right now because they all have something to be happy about. Captain Stevens will likely ask for Miss Ellington’s hand if he has not done so already. Lord Percy and Helena cannot tear their eyes from one another. I thought I was loved. I thought I would be amongst their number tonight, finally belonging to the man I loved, but he wasn’t what I thought he was.”
“No, he was not,” Freddie agreed, pulling out a chair so Maryanne might sit. “Though I had a hand in this, I am sorry that the outcome was as it is.”
“How did you know?” Helena asked as he sat down beside her. “And, why would you even take such an interest in him? Mr Callender was hardly likely to figure on your horizons.”
“I saw him at White’s a few weeks ago. He didn’t look happy. I thought I’d try and help him out if I could. I had never had any reason to dislike him, even though it was clear he would rather I didn’t pry, but White’s is more than a gentleman’s club. We help each other out if we can. My original investigations were done purely in that spirit. Now I know what there was to find out, I’m not surprised he always kept himself to himself so much.”
“That was why you were at Mr Cooley’s that day?”
“It was and I am sorry. I have a confession,” Freddie said, lowering his eyes a little. “I listened to you and your mother after I went inside. When I overheard your conversation and how much he clearly mattered to you, I thought it even more important that I help if I could. I wanted you to be happy. If he’d been the man I thought him to be, I’d have tried to convince your father to let him marry you.”
“You wanted me to be happy?”
“I did,” Freddie admitted.
“So, my old friend is still in there,” she teased.
“Hidden deep, but yes, he’s still in there,” Freddie confessed.
“I am glad to hear it,” she said softly, “for if you were truly as cold as you had seemed, I could not see you ever finding happiness and that would have hurt me deeply.”
Freddie did not know how to respond to that. But, he was saved from doing so by the dinner gong. “Shall we?” he said, standing up and offering her his arm. “I hear the spectacle is to be the best ever and there will be fireworks after supper, too.”
She smiled at him, and Freddie felt just a little more of his mask slipping. It would be so easy to forget when Maryanne smiled at him that way. However, he would not let himself be hurt again. He was happy to be a friend and life as a rake suited him best. No ties and no commitments, that was safest for his heart. Even as they crossed to the banqueting hall, just the feel of her body close up against his, the warmth of her hand upon his arm, had him questioning everything he had convinced himself of.
As they sat down to supper, surrounded by their friends, it was clear that some of the Christmas spirit had begun to infuse the celebrations once more. Freddie couldn’t help but feel a warm glow as he saw the lovestruck couples around him. Knowing people he cared about were so happy, made him happy. Yet, it was clear that though she was being very brave Maryanne was still struggling to process all she had learned that night. She made all the right noises of shock and awe as the parade of extravagantly decorated dishes were brought into the dining hall. She joked and teased her friends. But, there was a sadness in her eyes that Freddie wished he could erase.
She was silent as they stood on the terrace watching the fireworks after supper and went through the motions of their next dance without a misstep, but Freddie knew her. This was not going to be easy for Maryanne to recover from. It was no childhood scrape on the knee. She truly had believed herself to be in love with that rat. Freddie wished there was more he could do to help her through her pain, but he knew from his own painful experience that a broken heart takes its own time to heal, if it ever does. The more he looked at her, the more time he spent with her, Freddie wasn’t so sure any more that his ever had.
Chapter Seven
Maryanne barely left her rooms in the weeks after the Christmas Eve ball, though Mama and Papa had insisted that she at least join them for the Christmas Day dinner after morning mass. She had picked at her roast beef and barely said a word. Her parents had looked at her with sad eyes, but neither of them knew what to say to her and so she had retired early to save them from trying so hard to cheer her mood.
New Year's Eve had come and gone. She had not been sad to miss the annual ball held at Almack’s. Helena had come by and Maryanne had tried to seem happy and enjoy her friend’s eager talk of her upcoming nuptials, but Maryanne truly just wished to be alone. Her heart ached, just as it had done when she had returned from Switzerland to find Freddie so changed, so cold, and so aloof. Maryanne felt just as alone and adrift now as she had then.
And then there was Freddie.
The man was hauntingly present in every thought. That it was him who had exposed Callender was unbearable. That he had seemed to be so genuinely concerned about her happiness was all wrong. He was, after all, the one who had broken Maryanne’s heart in the first place. It had taken her so long to trust anyone again, afraid that she would only ever be wanted for her title and her inheritance.
Werner Callender had seemed to know just how that must feel. He had assured her he loved her for herself and that he would be glad to live in a hovel as long as she was by his side. He had convinced her that because he possessed great wealth himself hers did not matter one jot. She had believed every word and now she despised herself for being so easily duped. That it had been Freddie Kerslake who had been the one to ride to her rescue upon his white charger made her fume. She did not want to like him. She did not want to be in his debt. She had no desire for him to think he had any place in her life.
However, she was grateful. She was glad that Freddie had stopped her making such a dreadful mistake. Her life would be in ruins now had she gone through with the elopement. And she couldn’t deny that she was still attracted to Freddie, though she had done everything in her power to convince herself that his handsome face and strong body had no effect upon her whatsoever. Whenever he was near, she felt aquiver, weak, and defenseless. Just the way he smiled made her body react, she found herself leaning in towards him, craving his scent, his heat. There was no doubt there was desire burning between them, but Maryanne could never let herself trust him.
Maryanne jumped up from the bed, where she had been lying as Mama marched through the door without knocking. “Mama!” she protested.
Mama looked her up and down and tutted loudly. “To think a daughter of mine could be still in her nightgown past noon,” she chided, looking utterly disgusted.
Maryanne grabbed at a shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders. As she did so, she caught sight of herself in the mirror. Mama was right to look so appalled. Her hair was lank and greasy, hanging in matted strands down her back. Her face was pale and she had lost weight. “I’m sorry, Mama. I shall call Browne and have her draw me a bath immediately.”
“Yes, you shall, but I have already ordered Browne to do just that,” Mama said, wrinkling her nose a little at the sight of her daughter. “Maryanne, I know you are hurting. But, you cannot live like this forever. You are wasting away. Your father and I are dreadfully worried about you.”
“I know, Mama. I have just... Oh, I don’t even know anything anymore. I just feel such a fool.”
Mama moved to embrace her. “My darling, you could not possibly have known and, nobody is judging you harshly. Everyone cares deeply and they want you to be happy.”
Maryanne felt tears well up inside her. She had never cried in front of Mama, not since she was a little girl. But now it felt good to be able to rest her head on her mother’s shoulder and just be comforted. Mama stroked her hair back from her face and pressed kisses all ov
er Maryanne’s forehead, cheeks, and then a final one upon the very tip of her nose. Maryanne smiled through her tears. “Thank you, Mama,” she said.
Mama smiled back. “Now, it is time to be a Colbert,” she said. “Werner Callender is hardly the only man in the world and you are well rid of him. It is time to stop letting him win.”
Maryanne was surprised that Mama understood. She felt broken and beaten, but Mama was right, her acting this was only meant that Callender had the upper hand. Maryanne was determined that should not be the case. He had proved, beyond doubt, that he did not deserve her or anyone. There was something she must do and she did not intend to do it out of spite for Callender’s actions, but out of compassion for a fellow sufferer.
“I need to see Freddie,” she announced.
Mama looked surprised but delighted. “Oh, I am so glad. I cannot tell you how happy your father and I were to see the two of you together at the ball. You were such friends, and I know you have missed him. We used to have such hopes of the two of you.”
“I know, Mama, but don’t get your hopes up. Freddie is not the marrying kind and I could never trust him, but I need him now. He’s the only person who can help me.”
Mama nodded and left the room as Browne and one of the other servants arrived carrying the bathtub. A parade of maids followed carrying bath sheets and vast pitchers of steaming water. Maryanne waited as they filled the tub, then stripped and climbed in once they had left the room. She took a deep breath and sank down beneath the surface. She listened as the water heaved and gurgled each time she moved. She watched the little bubbles of air as they escaped her nostrils and lips, only surfacing when she could hold her breath no longer.
Smoothing her hair back from her face, she rubbed at her eyes and opened them wide. She had been so wrapped up in her world of self-pity that she had forgotten that she was not the only victim of Werner Callender. While she would not be broken by the man’s actions, there was another woman whose entire life would be affected by Callender’s debts and his questionable attempts to rid himself of them. Maryanne would not let him ruin anyone else and she had an idea that she knew just how to make sure he got exactly what was coming to him.
After she had lathered every inch of her body and her hair three times, Maryanne eased her body out of the tub and dried herself vigorously. She sat impatiently at the dresser in her shift while Browne worked to get the tangles out of her hair then pinned it expertly. She dressed in a smart velvet riding habit and grabbed at the matching hat perching it atop her head at a jaunty angle.
Without stopping to speak to her parents, she hurried outside to the stables. “I need my horse, now,” she said to Albert, the stable lad. He nodded eagerly and rushed inside one of the stalls to fetch her gray mare, Moonlight. Within moments, he had her saddled and ready. Maryanne smiled at him. “Thank you,” she said as he helped her into the side saddle.
She rode out of the yard at a canter and did not slow until she was outside Freddie’s vast townhouse four streets away. Her nerves threatened to unseat her, making her wish to turn round and go back home, but she was not here for herself and so she steeled herself to dismount and knock upon the door. Freddie’s butler, Henson, answered and when he saw her his normally impassive expression broke into a broad smile. “Lady Maryanne, it has been a long time since I’ve seen you! You were but a girl,” he said.
“Henson, I must see Freddie, is he home?” she asked.
“He’s in the library.”
“May I?” she said, pointing to the door. She knew his homes as well as she knew her own, both here and in the country.
“But of course,” Henson said. “I shall take care of your horse myself.” He moved to take the reins from her. Maryanne handed them over willingly.
She moved into the darkly paneled hallway, her boots tapping against the marble tiles. The sound echoed in the vast space. She looked up at the Kerslake ancestors as they looked down at her from the walls. They had never scared her before, but now it felt as though their eyes were boring into her as she passed the grand oak staircase and moved to knock on the door of the library.
“Enter,” Freddie’s voice called.
Maryanne eased the door open slowly. Her belly felt as though she had a surfeit of eels writhing inside her. “Good day, Your Grace,” she said bobbing a curtsey as she snuck a quick look at his surprised expression.
“Well, you are possibly the most delightful unexpected guest I have ever had,” he said, bowing deeply.
“I need your help,” Maryanne said. She did not wish to spend any more time here, with Freddie than necessary. She did not have time to waste upon pleasantries and small talk. “I wish to know where Callender’s wife and child live.”
“Maryanne,” Freddie said, frowning at her. “I don’t see anything that could make such a request a good idea.”
“Oh, don’t be so ridiculous. You’ve known me my entire life,” Maryanne replied, a little angrily. “I am not the person who changed and became the devil himself. That would be you or have you forgotten that?”
“I suppose that is fair,” Freddie admitted, “but I still don’t see any reason to give you such information. No good will come of it, of that I am sure.”
“Really? Maybe that is because you have forgotten what it is to think of others before yourself,” Maryanne retorted. “Like me, she is just as much a victim of that weasel. I will not have her broken by his actions. I don’t doubt that he will be in debtors’ prison, or worse, if he’s not already there.”
“Given the circumstances, he may well face more than time in Newgate. His debts are too great and there is rumor that the justices intend to make an example of him so other bounders know that trying to solve their problems in such a manner is not to be attempted again. The very level of his debts also implies that he had been dishonest in his dealings with his creditors and they aren’t happy. They’ll see him ruined or hung, I’m sure. Financiers are a harsh breed.”
“Good,” Maryanne said and meant it. “But that leaves his wife and child destitute. Callender’s faults are not hers or the child’s. I wish to help them if I can.”
“And how do you intend to do that? I cannot see her welcoming you into her home,” Freddie pointed out, not unreasonably.
“She will need a home and money. I intend to give her a share of my allowance,” Maryanne said simply. “She does not need to like me, but I can help her and it is my duty to do so.”
Freddie thought for a moment. “That is most generous,” he said, “but, nobody wants to receive charity, Maryanne. Would you if your positions were reversed?”
Maryanne paused and thought about it. “No, I don’t think I would,” she admitted, “but how else can I help her?”
“I can offer her a position at Elmesely,” Freddie said. “Mother was only saying just the other day that our housekeeper, Mrs Wilkes, is getting older and needs assistance. The household has grown big, unwieldy even. This could be the perfect solution. Mrs Wilkes can train up her replacement and by sharing the duties it will give Mrs Callender time to spend with her son. We can offer to send him to school when he is old enough as part of the particulars of her employment.”
“You’d do that?” Maryanne asked, a little incredulously. She’d expected Freddie to be dismissive of her concerns, to tell her she was being foolish, never to agree with her.
“Yes, I would. I have even paid for Callender to have representation at his trial. Mr Pooley recommended a barrister friend of his.”
“Why would you do such a thing?” Maryanne asked. “After everything he did?”
“I know you believe me to be a monster, but you are not the only one who has been thinking of the wider implications of Callender’s perfidy, Maryanne. As you so rightly point out, he has a wife and son. I wanted to be sure that they would not be punished along with Callender for his actions and I still believe that every man is entitled to a fair trial. He’d not get that with the dregs of the legal profession which would be
the most he could afford if he could afford a lawyer at all.”
“I am sorry, you did tell me that the old Freddie was still in there, somewhere,” Maryanne said with a tight smile. “I should have believed you.”
“Yes, you should, but I don’t blame you in the slightest for not trusting me. I have given you little reason to do so over the years. I doubt I’d trust me if I didn’t know me so well. I have my faults and will not say I regret any of them, but I am not a bad man, Maryanne.”
“So, all those poor, bedazzled women all want you as much as you want them? Their cuckolded husbands all get something from your faithlessness?”
Maryanne wanted to take the words back as soon as she had uttered them. Freddie looked crushed. She wasn’t sure if it was because she knew or that she had confronted him with his most despicable acts that had hurt him, but he suddenly seemed tentative and a little ashamed. These were things Maryanne would never have expected of the arrogant and self-obsessed man she thought she knew.
“You’ll never believe me,” he said quietly, his eyes averted from her gaze, as though he could not look her in the eye. Maryanne found herself almost missing the brazen rake that had been stood before her, just moments earlier. “But, not all marriages are happy. Some people need a little something extra to be able to bear them, women just as much as men. My relationships have, over the years, not been particularly intimate or even romantic. However, in truth, I believe that many of those marriages are still together, in part, because of my ensuring that those women were happy, at least for a time.”
“You are right. I will never understand how infidelity could possibly improve a marriage, but then I am not as worldly as you and nor do I ever wish to be. If and when I wed, I wish to be able to trust my husband and in return would wish him to be able to trust me. Otherwise, there is no marriage,” Maryanne said, just as quietly.
Unwrapping a Rogue: A Christmas Regency Boxset Page 39