All Men Are Rogues

by Sari Robins

  “Blotchy skin?”

  “Not wearing my bonnet.”

  They shared a smile. Her cheeks warmed and she asked, “How do you feel?”

  “About sixty years old now.”

  “I thought you were looking a bit beyond your prime.”

  Unwrapping the paper on the largest package, she pulled out a long black cloak.

  “You shouldn’t have,” he jibed. “I was just lamenting the fact that I would have to become civilized once more.”

  Her lips quirked and her cheeks burned. He had not been overly civilized the night before. His eyes sparkled, as if he could read her thoughts.

  “Go try on the clothes,” she admonished, pushing him toward his room.

  “I’ll need help.”

  “So does Shah,” she replied. ‘With luncheon.”

  As the women prepared the meal, Evelyn could hear the floorboards creaking as Justin moved about his chamber. The temptation to peek in on him was overwhelming. Wiping her hands on a cloth, she commented self-consciously, “I’ll go check on Justin. To see if the clothes fit.”

  Shah nodded, not looking up from peeling the potatoes. “When I’m done here, I’ll go gather more herbs.”

  Evelyn had to admit, her trusty maid was no fool, but neither was she judgmental. Evelyn recalled that Shah had been wed once, but she rarely spoke of it. Apparently it was not a good marriage, and the man had died before any children were born. The only time Shah referred to it was when counting her blessings. Still, she did not begrudge Evelyn her relationship with Justin, something Evelyn was becoming more and more thankful for with each passing day.

  Evelyn knocked lightly on the door.

  “Come.

  “I struggled with the coat a bit,” he commented, adjusting his sleeves. “But I did bearably well, given I had no assistance.”

  “If you’d had my assistance, you probably wouldn’t have gotten past your undergarments,” she teased, a bit shocked by her boldness.

  “Thank goodness you’re not my valet. I’d never leave the house.”

  “You look wonderful.” The clothes did not fit him as perfectly as did his fine tailored London attire, but the navy wool suit made him appear brawny and dashedly handsome.

  “I’m glad you think so. You know how much I like to impress.”

  Reaching for her, he wrapped his strong arms around her waist. Brushing a tendril of hair away from her face, he curled it about her ear, sending shivers racing up her spine. He sighed into her hair. “It’s almost hard to care about the intrigues going on outside this little pocket of the world when you are near.”

  She frowned, reminded of her disappointment today. “I wish I knew what was taking Angel so long.”

  “I know you’re worried, darling. But if he can get here, he will.” He pressed a tender kiss to her temple.

  The leaves rustled outside, and the first spatterings of rain drummed on the rooftop.

  “Shah wanted to collect more herbs,” she mumbled. As if reacting to her thoughts, she heard the heavy kitchen door open and close with a thud.

  “It’s only sprinkling,” he commented, looking out the window. “I love the rain, and so does my dear friend, Mr. Oak.”

  She raised her brow, amused. “Your friend?”

  “He kept me company while you were gone. I told him all about my lovely nurse and her inventive remedies.”

  Evelyn’s cheeks warmed and she replied, “In some Eastern countries a bride plants a tree in her yard as her wedding nears. She might decorate it with colored ribbons to express her joy. Legend has it the bride would live as long as the tree.”

  “In Bedford there is a big oak that must be three hundred years old. Its trunk is fatter than a horse’s rump, its roots gnarl the ground paces all around, and it’s got a hump stuck right in its center.” He playfully squeezed her middle. “Would you like to live to be three hundred years old?”

  She huffed, “I am having enough trouble with twenty-two.” Grazing her cheek across his fuzzy jaw, she added thoughtfully, “Still, it would be a joy to plant a tree, water it, watch it grow every day. To be able to see the roots take and deepen, tighten around the soil as if laying claim to its eternal corner of the world.”

  “Roots do grant one a sense of balance. You would do a place well if you stayed long enough to plant the seeds of your brightness.”

  She shook her head, bringing her thoughts back to reality. “I was talking about the tree.”

  “I am talking about you. Staying in England. I would protect you….”

  “Shh. Enough talk about that.” Not a day went by that he did not try to convince her to trust him with her future. She was coming to wait for his offer. Although she knew she would refuse, she enjoyed being sought after so enthusiastically.

  “If you would leave England, then where would you go?” he asked, pursing his lips, apparently accepting her rebuff.

  “Italy.”

  “Why?”

  She let out a long breath and looked out the window, lost in the memories of golden villas, shimmering cobalt blue waters, and delectable feasts that seemed to last for days. “It’s a beautiful country. But the primary reason would be for the people. Some of them certainly like to bellow a lot, but deep at heart they are wonderfully gracious. I was eighteen on our last tenure there. I became ill, and the neighbors could not have been more helpful.”

  “Is that where you collected those dastardly kittens your father complained of?”

  She tilted her head to see his features, suddenly feeling vulnerable about him knowing of her father’s journal.

  At the look on her face he continued, “Between the leather-bound volume you’re always reading and the stories I recalled, it did not take much to piece the puzzle together.”

  She felt silly for being so secretive. “I have found nothing in it that would lead to murder.”

  “It’s certainly a logical starting place. I wonder, does anyone else know of its existence?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He shook his head. “If someone wanted the journal, they could have simply blackmailed you for it.”

  She raised her eyebrow. “I marvel how your mind always slinks to the dark side.”

  “It was why I was so useful to our government. And,” he murmured as he dipped his nose beneath her hair and nibbled on her earlobe, “why I will be useful to you now.”

  “Let me show you how you can be useful to me,” she replied, wanting to end all talk of intrigue and of the future. They had little enough time together; she wanted to enjoy every precious moment of it. Taking his hand, she led him to the bed. “As your nurse, it’s my opinion you need to lie down, my lord.”

  “I always follow the nurse’s orders.”

  He drew her down on top of him and kissed all thoughts of the outside world from her mind.

  Pulling back from his embrace, she stated breathlessly, “Let’s get these cumbersome English clothes off you.” Unwilling to wait, she pressed small kisses on the nape of his neck as she yanked off his coat.

  “Not exactly pulling his toenails out, are you?” a deep voice boomed from behind.

  Tearing her lips from Justin’s neck, Evelyn looked up. “Angel!” Mortification swamped her senses, and she rolled off Justin and fell onto the floor like a sack of potatoes. Her cheeks burned to cinder, and she could not find words to save her life.

  “I guess you’ve decided what side Barclay plays on,” Angel said as he swept off his hat and rainwater dripped to the floor. His black cloak shimmered, wet, and his raven hair was matted down with damp. “I’m going to have something to eat. If you’d care to join me?” He strode out of the room, his boot heels clipping loudly on the floorboards.

  “I didn’t hear him come in,” Justin supplied, sitting up and adjusting his coat. “Why am I suddenly glad for these many layers of English clothing?”

  Fixing her dress as best as she could, Evelyn murmured, “Not exactly a hero’s welcome for Angel.” Guilt burr
owed in her belly. While Angel had been out facing danger, she had been safe and dry, and cavorting with Justin.

  She walked into the kitchen, unable to meet her dear friend’s eyes.

  “Just so you know what you’re doing,” he commented to her, while he devoured the stew as if he had not eaten in days.

  Shah stood over the stove, her back to them.

  He tore off a hunk of bread. “I had no luck when lady love crossed swords with intrigue; perhaps you shall fare better.”

  She did not know to what he was referring, but she replied defensively, “He’s mending well.”

  “That is apparent.”

  Sliding into the seat across from him, she pressed, “He answered all my questions and seems really committed to helping us.”

  “I wonder if you should not be the one committed, caro,” he said quietly. “Just a short while ago you were ready to skin him alive for his betrayal, now you love him?”

  Her back stiffened. “I, I never said I loved him. He’s intelligent and good company and…well, he’s on our side.”

  Angel snorted.

  She shrugged. “I don’t see the harm.”

  “Where’s the harm, indeed?”

  Justin strode in, removed a stool from the corner, and sat beside Evelyn. She was glad for his presence; just his company made her feel more secure. Still, she did not like the questions Angel raised in her mind. Looking at the handsome man she’d come to cherish, she tried to push away her qualms. Of course she could trust him. But doubt still lingered.

  “I want to thank you, Arolas, for all of your assistance.” Justin extended his hand. “Evelyn tells me you helped dig me out from under that bookcase, obtained medical care, brought me here, and provided all of our provisions. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate your efforts.”

  Angel’s hand did not meet Justin’s, nor did his eyes ever lift from his bowl. “It was for Evelyn. Not for you.”

  Pulling his hand back, Justin accepted the rebuff with aplomb. “For your labors on Evelyn’s behalf, I am eternally grateful.”

  Shah set bowls before Evelyn and Justin. “Join us, Shah,” Evelyn urged.

  Justin stood and offered her his stool. “I’ll get the chair from my room.”

  The four of them sat in tense silence, everyone seemingly intent on their food. Evelyn waited breathlessly for Angel to break the silence with news about Sully, but she wanted to give him a chance to eat before rushing him. He looked exhausted. Dark shadows banked his chocolate brown eyes, and his beautiful olive skin was marred with grime. His tangy cologne tickled her senses, and she was surprised to find herself comparing it to Justin’s natural woodsy scent.

  She sent a prayer of thanks Angel was fit and whole and back to her. “I’m so glad to see you, Angel,” she commented, her eyes suddenly burning with unshed tears. “And so thankful you are well.”

  He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. Justin watched the movement and then looked away.

  Leaning back in his chair, Angel ran his hand through his black wavy hair. “You’ve lost more weight, Evelyn,” he commented disapprovingly.

  Evelyn didn’t care about her weight, instead asking, “Have you found Sully?”

  “You know I would have told you by now if we had.” He frowned. “We followed the trail to a house by the piers but then lost it. Someone is moving him about.”

  Evelyn’s heart sank, and then fluttered. “But he’s alive.”

  His usually smooth voice was gruff. “Seems to be.”

  Justin leaned forward. “Was the house at the pier on Longston Street?”

  Angel raised his brow. “Yes.”

  “It’s a safe house used by my branch.”

  An excited itch trailed up Evelyn’s spine. “Where would someone take Sully now, Justin?”

  He scratched his chin. “Well, there are at least five safe houses in London proper and a few in the outlying districts.”

  She clenched her hands, anticipation coursing through her. “We can get the list and check them one by one!”

  “You are not going anywhere near London,” Angel countered. He nodded to Justin. “Barclay’s mother has been screaming to the rooftops over her son’s disappearance.” He turned to Evelyn. “And the authorities have issued a warrant for your arrest in his kidnapping.”

  She blinked but then waved him off. “We can bring Justin home and they will drop the charges.”

  “And you will be arrested, Sully won’t be found, and all will be lost,” Angel challenged.

  “But then, what can we do?” she cried. “We need to get Sully back!” She pursed her lips. “Perhaps we can do a trade, Justin for Sully…” As she realized what she’d said, her cheeks warmed, and she bit her lip. “Simply to get Sully back, Justin, and you do wish to go home….”

  He scowled. “I am not a side of beef to barter. Besides,” his voice clipped, making her feel even guiltier, “they will arrest you anyhow.”

  “But you will be returned, whole and well….”

  Angel’s and Justin’s eyes locked. An agreement seemed to flash between them.

  “What?” she asked, annoyed.

  Angel’s voice softened. “Barclay is right, caro. They will arrest you. That is the whole point of this exercise. They want you.”

  Frustration gripped her, and she shook her fisted hands as if beseeching the heavens. “But why?”

  “Ask him.” Angel pointed to the marquis.

  “Bloody hell if I know,” Justin countered, rubbing his temple. “But I do know that it’s not safe for you to venture back to London.”

  “But I have to find Sully!”

  Angel smiled affectionately at her. “You were always the one to jump to the fight. But you have to let me do it for you this time.”

  Justin was eyeing Angel warily but Evelyn did not have it in her to deal with his resentment.

  “Is there any other news?” Justin asked tersely.

  Angel shrugged. “Ismet is well. There is rumor in the streets of some conspiracy, but it seems to have no substance.”

  “We believe it’s a ploy,” Justin replied. “To get me and the members of my branch to do Wheaton’s bidding.”

  “We?” Angel queried.

  Justin scowled. “Evelyn and I.”

  Angel seemed to consider this a moment. “Do you, Barclay, think Wheaton has turned?”

  “I just can’t see Wheaton serving anyone other than Mother England.”

  “Did you know the men who attacked us?”

  “At least one, Helderby. A bloody brute who would cut his mother’s throat if there was gold in it for him. But Wheaton has a hold on him, at least for now.”

  Evelyn shuddered, suddenly chilled. “So where do we go from here?”

  “We will consider our options in the morning.” Angel raised his arms over his head and stretched, yawning. “When Ismet arrives.”

  Evelyn could barely contain her enthusiasm. “Ismet is coming here? But why did he not arrive with you?”

  “We were followed. He’s routing the pack in the opposite direction.”

  “Yet he’s heading here in the morning?” Justin’s voice grew strident. “How can you lead those men here?”

  “Ismet knows what he’s doing,” Angel rejoined.

  “You have much faith in a man who lost in his last encounter with Helderby and his men.”

  “If I recall correctly, Barclay,” Angel retorted in an icy tone, “you were part of Helderby’s men at the time.”

  “So I know how dogged they can be. We have to leave here at once! Evelyn is not safe.”

  “We have no choice in the matter,” Angel countered. “We have but one horse and we’re not splitting up.”

  “How in heaven’s name do you expect us to leave?” Justin hammered the tabletop. “Whenever it is you do decide we’re going.”

  “Ismet will bring a coach. He knows what he’s doing.” Angel sent Evelyn a hard stare. “Unlike others in our party.”

 
Justin held his peace, but dissatisfaction shimmered off him in waves.

  Evelyn eyed the men worriedly. “We are all on the same side, boys, remember?” she chided. “I’ll set up a pallet for you in Justin’s room, Angel. You look like the walking dead.”

  He made a face. “You were always so free with your flattery.”

  Justin stood. “If you’ll give me a moment.”

  “Certainly.” Evelyn nodded.

  Justin turned and closed the door to his room behind him.

  “Be nice, Angel,” Evelyn chided. “The man took a bullet for me. Or have you forgotten so quickly?”

  “That does not mean he won’t slit my throat in the middle of the night.”

  Evelyn studied her fingernails, not wanting to argue with her dear friend. Once Angel had time to get to know Justin better, he’d realize his suspicions were unfounded. Justin was not the enemy.

  Shah poured Angel some water as they sat in tense silence.

  A horse neighed outside, followed by a man’s deep command, “Haya!” and the charge of hoof beats.

  Angel jumped from his chair. Dashing to the door, he tore it open and stepped out into the pouring rain. “The bloody Englishman is stealing my horse!”

  Evelyn rushed beside him. Her heart was in her throat watching Justin’s disappearing form as it raced on horseback down the rocky trail. She was shocked speechless.

  Angel commented bitterly, “Your lover seems to have plans of his own that do not include you.” He pushed her back inside the house. “Grab your things together, Evelyn. You and I are leaving! Shah, when Ismet comes, be ready to go. Barclay won’t have gone far by then. Still, you’d better be ready to depart immediately.”

  Shah quickly began gathering up supplies.

  Evelyn dropped into a chair, trying to make sense of Justin’s abrupt departure. Her head was numb, but a piercing ache was escalating in her chest, perilously near her heart. He wouldn’t betray her again. Would he? She didn’t think she could bear it. Her mouth had dried to dust, but she managed to ask, “Where are we going?”

  “Away from here. Let’s pray your judgment is true regarding your marquis, for otherwise, well…” His voice trailed off, and the look in his dark eyes sent chills racing down Evelyn’s spine. “Let’s just say, the man won’t get away so easily next time.”