‘And what role do you play in the business, Mrs West?’ Lady Aleyn asked.
‘Mrs West is what one might call a sleeping partner,’ Logan said quickly.
Aleyne choked on his whisky and his brother shot him a warning stare.
‘Her interest is financial,’ Logan explained.
‘An investor, then,’ Lady Aleyne said, appearing not to notice her husband’s struggle to gain his breath.
It was as good an explanation as any other. Charity had certainly invested a good deal of her time on Jack’s behalf. She nodded and smiled, not wishing to cause her host an apoplexy by going into the detail of what she did for a living even if it wasn’t as bad as what Lord Aleyne imagined.
The gentleman in question set down his glass. ‘And what is your opinion of our country now you have been here for a few days?’ A neat change of topic. One Charity gratefully accepted.
‘I am struck how different it is to the countryside of England with which I am most familiar,’ she said. ‘Quite starkly beautiful, but somewhat overwhelming. I can only imagine how it must be in wintertime.’
‘Oh, aye,’ Logan said. ‘It is a harsh land then, to be sure. But if you want stark beauty you should go further north.’
‘Do you plan a visit to Dunross, Mrs West?’ Lady Aleyne asked.
Charity gave a regretful shake of her head. ‘There will not be time. We must return to London very soon. It took long enough to get to Edinburgh. The roads in this part of the country make travel very slow. I am assuming they are no better to the north.’
‘Worse,’ Aleyne said with a grimace. ‘It is no wonder the King came by sea. You should have done the same, I am thinking.’
‘My associate does not care for sea travel.’ After his experience of the Irish Sea, Jack always swore he would never again set foot on a ship. But this talk of roads and travel played very nicely into her reason for spending this time with Logan. It seemed almost too good to be true and she would have to step very carefully if she was to make the most of it.
‘Is that how you plan to transport your whisky to London?’ she asked. ‘By sea, since the roads are so bad?’
Lord Aleyne chuckled. ‘Not roads. Road. There is only one. But although it is dreadful, I doubt ships are an option.’
Logan lifted a shoulder. ‘It might have done in the past, but these days there are too many excise officers roaming the seas. Without a war to fight, sailors need to do something. No, it is safer to go overland.’
‘But how would that work in winter? In such rugged countryside as you describe? Are there secret paths through the hills?’
She held her breath, wondering how much he would say.
His expression shuttered. ‘Any Scot can travel anywhere in his own country, at any time of year, Mrs West. It is how we have survived.’
And that was as much as he was going to say. For now. But it was an opening she would make good use of later. When he took her home and she invited him up to her chamber.
The footman who had let them in scratched at the door. ‘Dinner is served, my lord.’
Aleyne rose and brought his wife to her feet. ‘Let us eat. And you will give us impressions of Edinburgh and its displays of loyalty over dinner, Mrs West.’
Logan helped her to rise and placed her hand on her sleeve. ‘I don’t know about you,’ he murmured in her ear, ‘but I am famished after all that fresh air this afternoon.’
Charity nodded, but didn’t think she could eat a bite. This family had admitted her into their midst, made her feel more welcome than she would ever have expected and she had nothing on her mind but betrayal.
Guilt was a heavy weight on her shoulders and a hard lump in her stomach. But she had done all she could to ameliorate her intentions by convincing Jack not to harm Logan. At least not physically. It would certainly teach Logan not to be so trusting in future. A lesson everyone needed to learn, surely?
So now she was trying to make herself feel good about what she was doing? She wasn’t. From the roiling sensation in her stomach, it wasn’t working.
* * *
As dinner progressed, Logan could not help watching the beautiful woman on the opposite side of the table. The barriers were higher than ever, tonight. The cool smiles. Manners so polite he could have cut them with his dirk. The adroit turning of questions of her into questions of her own. Those questions about whisky delivery had been quite pointed, he thought. But not necessarily unexpected.
None of it troubled him in the least. Nor did the attraction he felt. He had it well under control. No. It was what he saw behind the mask she presented to the world that gave him pause. It wasn’t fear, precisely. It was the sort of vulnerability he’d only seen when approaching an animal caught in a trap. Anger. And the knowledge there was no escape.
He glanced at his sister-in-law. Jenna might be willing to help. She’d shown herself to be a woman who was prepared to forgive the past transgressions of others. At least, as long as no harm came to those she cared about. Perhaps an offer of decent work, if Niall would allow it, would get Charity away from O’Banyon. Of all of his brothers, Niall was the one least likely to bend. And who could blame him? Jenna was a treasure well worth protecting.
Besides, no matter how he tried, he couldn’t envisage Charity accepting a position as anything so lowly as a maid.
He would have to think of something else. But what?
Mistress?
The thought sent a hot jolt low in his belly.
He had money enough from his winnings the other night to keep her for a while. But he found the idea of keeping a mistress distasteful. It seemed to him that if you liked a woman well enough to keep her in style, you liked a woman well enough to offer her marriage. And finding and marrying the right woman was a good thing. He saw that from watching his brothers and their wives. When he found the right woman, a woman of worth that he could respect, he wouldn’t hesitate.
A man would have to be blind to think Charity West would make a good wife. In her case, a man would have to be thinking with a part of him unconnected to his brain.
Although the thought of leaving her to return to London with O’Banyon was not sitting well anywhere inside him. It was something he would discuss with her later. When they left here. But whatever they agreed upon, he did not want it ruining the bargain with O’Banyon. That would be the sort of mistake Ian would not tolerate.
The servants removed the cloth and brought the decanter and glasses.
‘We will leave you gentlemen to your dram, then,’ Jenna said. ‘Please don’t be too long joining us for tea in the drawing room. We do not keep late hours, Mrs West. Rabbie still wakes me in the night.’ Jenna rose to her feet.
Niall and he followed suit. His brother grinned at his wife. ‘Experience tells me you will be asleep before the tea tray arrives.’ He picked up the decanter. ‘Why don’t we all adjourn to the drawing room? I’ll bring this along for Logan.’
Clearly he did not want to leave Charity alone with his wife. He wondered what Niall would think if he knew Logan was thinking of rescuing her from O’Banyon. ‘I’d just as soon have tea.’
They followed the ladies to the drawing room where Jenna seated Charity beside her and poured tea for them all.
‘I hope you will not be disappointed by our Assembly Rooms tomorrow,’ Jenna said, curiosity rampant in her expression. ‘I understand it is nowhere near as fashionable as Almack’s in London.’
‘I have never been to Almack’s,’ Charity said calmly. ‘It was kind of Mr Gilvry to arrange tickets for me and my business partner. As far as comparisons go, I will not be of much value, I am afraid.’
Jenna waved off the apology. ‘It is of no consequence. I was curious, that was all.’
Niall grimaced. ‘Once I am a Member of Parliament, my love, you will have your fill of Almack’s and any
other delights London has to offer, if that is your wish.’
‘Have you been elected?’ Charity asked. ‘Or will you take a seat in the Lords?’
‘The Aleyne peerage is one of the few held through the crown,’ Jenna explained. ‘Niall has not yet taken his seat. He has been too busy heretofore establishing his practice, but we hope to go next Season. Will I like London, do you think?’
‘It is not so very different from Edinburgh, as far as I can tell in so short a time.’ Charity said.
‘London is much bigger,’ Logan said.
‘You have visited?’ Charity asked.
‘Several times. The last time I stayed with Sanford.’
An expression of disapproval crossed his sister-in-law’s face. She had taken an instant dislike to the languid English lord, calling him a wastrel. A view shared by Ian. Both he and Niall had been surprised by Jenna’s unusual lack of generosity.
‘He took me about,’ Logan continued. ‘Showed me some of the sights. Vauxhall. The Tower. Covent Garden. White’s.’ He shook his head at Mrs West. ‘Not the Chien Rouge, I’m afraid.’
‘Perhaps next time,’ she said with a smile, but something in her voice said she hoped not.
A scratch at the door and a rather harried young woman appeared in the doorway.
‘Why, Carrie, what is it?’ Jenna said. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘It’s Master Rab, my lady. He’s fussin’ somethin’ awful. You said I should tell you if he woke.’
‘Poor little fellow,’ Jenna said. ‘He’s cutting another tooth.’ She looked at Charity. ‘Would you like to meet him?’
Say yes, Logan silently urged. If anything would strengthen his sister-in-law’s liking for someone, it was admiration for her son and heir.
Charity hesitated, then straightened her shoulders, as if preparing to face some unpleasant duty. ‘Yes. Yes, of course. I would love to see him.’ She looked at Logan and he saw appeal in the depths of her eyes. ‘Then we really must go.’
‘Aye, we must,’ he agreed, concerned. She had said she liked children, and while much of what she had said had been somewhat elusive, he had not thought that was a lie. And yet, he didn’t know, did he? Not really.
Dutifully they quietly left the room behind the Aleynes. At the bottom of the stairs, he held her back for a moment, looking down into her face. Seeing the shadows in her expression, he murmured, ‘Are you sure you want to do this? I can make our excuses and we can leave now.’
‘No. I said I would visit the child, so I will. But then we really should go.’
And he learned something new about her. She kept her word. For once he felt respect. Given the life she led, it was a surprising discovery. What that meant in its entirety, he wasn’t quite sure, since he did not know what promises she had given O’Banyon. He would no doubt soon find out. He took her arm and followed silently up the stairs behind his family.
Before they reached the top his nephew’s cries were loud and clear. The little chap had a fine pair of lungs as he’d heard more than once. In the nursery, Niall picked up his son, patting his back while his mother stood behind him, peering into her little boy’s drooling open mouth. ‘Oh, I know, pet. It hurts.’
The nanny handed her an ivory ring on a silver handle. ‘He keeps throwing it on the floor, my lady.’
Rab caught sight of him and Charity, blinked and stopped crying.
‘Ah, I see you have discovered we have company,’ his father said.
Rab had reddish-coloured hair like his mother, but was a solid young lad already showing signs of the square chin from the Gilvry side. Logan held out his hands and the child leaned towards him. He plucked him free of his brother’s grip and held him in the crook of his arm so Charity could see him better.
He gazed at her, blinking like an owl, and shoved his thumb in his mouth.
‘I should invite you up here more often, Logan,’ Jenna said, gently stroking her son’s cheek. ‘If you can silence him so easily.’
‘It is Mrs West who has him enthralled,’ Logan said. He held the child out to her and she took him in her arms.
‘He’s beautiful,’ Charity whispered with one of those daft smiles women got around babes. All the hard edges dissolved before his eyes and his breath caught in his throat. He didn’t think he’d seen anything in his life that made his heart contract with such a sweet ache.
‘He’s a lot like my father,’ Jenna whispered. ‘A true Aleyne.’
‘There is a lot of Gilvry in him, too,’ Niall objected.
Charity glanced from one parent to the other. ‘He seems to have a lot of both of you.’
His mother laughed. ‘Very tactful. But at least he is built like his father and not a shrimp like me.’
The little lad rubbed his eyes with his knuckles. Jenna touched his forehead with the flat of her hand. ‘He feels a little warm, but I do not think he’s feverish.’ The boy reached for her. ‘I think he wants a wee bit of comfort. I’ll feed him for a while and see if I can persuade him to sleep a while longer.’ She took Rabbie from Charity’s arms.
‘We will leave you to it,’ Logan said with a half-horrified look at his brother.
Niall was too busy gazing fondly at his wife to notice. He came to himself and gave them an apologetic smile and ushered them out of the nursery. ‘I’m sorry to cut our evening short. Nanny or no, that young man seems to take up a great deal of our time.’
‘He’s a lovely child,’ Charity said. ‘You are fortunate. I thank you for your hospitality, this evening.’
‘Don’t bother to show us out,’ Logan said. ‘I know the way.’
* * *
Their hats and gloves were produced by the footman when they arrived in the downstairs hall. Logan helped her into her wrap and donned his hat and gloves. The footman went to open the front door.
‘Wait,’ Logan said. ‘We are leaving through the back.’
‘What?’ Charity said. ‘Why?’
‘I arranged for the carriage to meet us behind the mews.’
It sounded reasonable and plausible. So why did she have this odd feeling of danger? A prickling in her scalp. It didn’t make any sense. Not once in Logan’s company had she felt a morsel of fear. He certainly wasn’t anything like Jack or the men he employed. Those men did make her skin crawl from time to time. If she let them.
With a quick breath, she pulled herself together. He ushered her down the passageway to a back room. A sitting room with French doors that led out into a small walled garden at the back of the house.
Logan turned the key and opened the doors. He turned to the footman standing ready behind them. ‘Lock the doors behind us.’
The young man touched his forelock as if it was all in a day’s work. An everyday occurrence. ‘Do you usually leave this way?’ she asked as he held her hand and walked her down the path to a gate at the back.
‘I stable my horse back here when I visit.’
She relaxed. Of course. That would explain it. The coachman would naturally bring the horses back here. They passed through the gate. The mews were on the other side of the narrow alley. It was not the dirty alleyways of London’s St Giles, but a spotless lane for the town houses’ private use. To her surprise, instead of entering the stable block, Logan ushered her along the alley into the next street, turning away from the Aleynes’s property and into another laneway.
‘Where are we going?’
‘To my lodgings. With Sanford.’ he said. ‘It is but a few steps from here.’
Her heart raced. A strange heartrending feeling of excitement mixed with fear. He was taking her home with him. They were to be alone together. As he must have planned all along. The visit to his family had dulled her wits. Made her complacent. Still, the outcome was exactly what she had wanted. What Jack had demanded. Apart from the
fact that they were not supposed to go to his rooms. It would hardly make a difference whose rooms they went to, she supposed. And this way she would be able to tell Jack exactly where he was staying.
She looked about her. There were no eyes watching them, she was sure of it. They were likely at the front of the town house, expecting his carriage to collect them at the front door.
‘Where is your carriage?’ she asked breathless as he hurried her along, keeping close to the wall, making use of the shadows cast by the lanterns at each gate they passed.
‘In front of my brother’s house. He will stay there until around one in the morning, then return to the livery.’
And Growler would have no idea where she was. The sense of freedom was almost heady. Until reality brought her back to earth. Jack would be furious at her disappearance. And she would have to tell him and Growler where she had gone. Freedom would be very short-lived.
And whatever happened, she must come back with the information Jack needed.
Her heart sank.
She’d enjoyed this evening more than she cared to admit. The Aleynes were nice people and listening to Logan talk with his brother, and watching him as he teased and joked, had been like entering another world. It would be wonderful if she could forget all about Jack and his instructions. But she didn’t dare. Not if she wanted to be sure he wouldn’t do something terrible to Logan.
The food she had eaten at dinner suddenly felt like a cold hard lump in her stomach. ‘Is it much further?’
‘Just a few steps more, lass.’ He slowed his steps to allow her to catch her breath.
A few yards further along the alley, he stopped. ‘This is it.’ He opened a gate. and pulled her through to the back of another house. A larger version of the one they had just left from the size of the walled garden and what she could see of the structure ahead of her.
At least this would be a feather in her cap. Growler had been unable to discover Sanford’s lodgings after days of watching both men. The nauseous feeling got worse, but there was nothing she could do. She had to have something to tell Jack. And not even that would be enough.
Falling for the Highland Rogue Page 13