Rogues, Rakes & Jewels

by Claudy Conn

  “Are you? Why?”

  “Well, the thing is, when we are well … not rich, but independent again, I want you to continue your studies at Cambridge …”

  “And what has Lyla to do with that?”

  “Oh, now, Jimmy, don’t play the dunce with me. It won’t fadge,” Jewels said impatiently.

  He laughed. “Lyla has no place in m’future, Jewels. Lord, I’ve known the chit half m’life. What? Think I mean to seduce her and get snabbled? Not me! Don’t think of her as a woman … and besides, she has a thing for that Wembly lad, and we’ll never have enough money for Lyla. She is looking for bigger game.”

  “Wembly? Really—well, yes, I should have thought of that, as they are very well off.” She sighed. “And what do you mean you don’t think of her as a woman? She is a very pretty—”

  “So she is … but not in my style. She is sly, isn’t she? Fun, mind you … but just not in m’style.”

  “Hmmm,” Jewelene remarked thoughtfully.

  “And what about you and Ben?” teased her brother.

  “Me and Ben?” Jewelene was shocked.

  “Don’t try and gammon me that we are going to the Clays to check in on poor Mrs. Clay. You might be able to bamboozle Aunt Dora with such fustian, but not me!”

  “Well, ’tis true, I’ve been wanting to see Ben, but not because of what you think, you odious boy. Ben is thirty, and besides … I don’t think of him that way …” They had reached the edge of the village where the sea stretched out in a wondrous swirl of greens and blues. Jewelene took a moment to gaze out onto the water and sigh. “Oh Jimmy, I do love our sleepy little isle … but …”

  “But you wish you could travel … go to London … have a lark.” He frowned. “I wish it for you.” He sighed. “Come on then, we have to get this done before we get into the suds with Aunt Dora.”

  “That’s another thing. The dowager is so sweet to send her son in the hopes that we might make a match of it, but, oh Jimmy … it is impossible.”

  “I’ll say,” agreed her brother. “The other one—his big, handsome cousin—has more of a chance with you than the marquis …”

  “Why do you say that?” His sister rounded on him sharply.

  “Oh-ho!” Her brother laughed.

  “Stop it!”

  “Well, he is the broth of a man—damn fine good-looking man, in fact … but I’d wager he is a bit of a rogue … probably not the marrying kind. Better steer clear of him, Jewels.”

  “I intend to,” Jewels said, her chin up.

  They trotted down the busy road and into the village square, where the battlements of Yarmouth Castle rose above their heads. Tulips adorned the flowerbeds in fine array, reminding them that spring had arrived, in spite of the coolness of the sunny day.

  People in the square—many of whom were simple, country folk—were busy with their errands and shopping, but more than a few saw the pair and met them with a wave and a warm smile. The late-day streets were crowded still, but the entire picture of the charming seaside town presented a lovely vision to Jewel’s sweeping glance. She loved the Isle. Yes, she thought, she did want to see more of the world, but she did so love her home base.

  They dismounted on the cobbled street and led their horses to the stables, where a link boy came forward. They gave their horses into his keeping and made their way towards a particular house not too far down the avenue.

  At the top of the short stone steps, Sir James took up the brass door knocker and gave it a vigorous rap, which produced a manservant of considerable height and girth whose depressing countenance seemed severe in the extreme. Brother and sister exchanged meaningful glances but maintained an amused silence.

  “Good day to you, Wailey,” said the beaming Jimmy, who knew the servant well.

  “If you say so, Sir James … Miss Jewelene,” Wailey said, moving out of their way and allowing them to enter.

  “Is Mrs. Clay about?” asked Jewelene.

  “No, she is out for the day—gone to the mainland.”

  “And Lyla?” asked Jimmy.

  “Gone, too.”

  “Oh, bother!” Jewelene said. “I suppose Mr. Clay took them and is gone as well?”

  “No, miss. Mr. Clay is across the street at the Silver Heart.”

  “Oh, very well. I suppose I shall have to go there to speak with him.” Jewels sighed.

  “No, oh no,” her brother was moved to utter. “Can’t do that. It is all very well for you to go about in breeches, dear girl. Got the poor folk of Wight so befuddled that they think it is charming, but even you can’t go into a gaming hell without losing your all!”

  “Yes … but it is Ben’s place after all …”

  “Don’t matter—you can’t go in there, and that is that.”

  Jewels chewed her bottom lip for a moment and then brightened. “Very well, I’ll send a message to Ben and ask him to attend me here. How is that? You go visit with Arthur in the meantime …”

  Jimmy eyed Wailey. “Will you do that, Wailey ol’ boy … bring Ben here to m’sister so she doesn’t go there?”

  “Aye, that I will, young sir,” Wailey said grimly.

  “Right then … but not sure I should leave you alone with Ben.”

  Jewelene laughed. “You won’t be … Wailey will be here.”

  Jimmy chuckled. “Aye, there is a truth in that. Right then … come by for you in thirty minutes.”

  Jewels stepped into the sitting room, only just recently refurbished from the earnings acquired from Ben’s investment in his newly profitable Silver Heart. His family had fallen into difficult times when his father had died ten years earlier. Then Ben had been wounded fighting the Spanish in 1809—a wound that had cost him his left arm.

  He had returned despondent and financially depleted, but Jewelene’s father had helped him work out a scheme to open up the Silver Heart. While not exactly a genteel trade, it kept house and home together, had lifted his spirits, and gave him a man’s work to keep him busy. Jewels thoroughly approved.

  Jewelene sighed as she recalled her father, whom she had adored though she knew he had been addicted to gambling. It was that addiction that had depleted his own fortune …

  However, she meant to win it back with a scheme of her own.

  The door opened, and Jewels looked up into the oval face of an attractive man. Gentle brown eyes were set in a pleasant countenance. Silky brown waves of hair were cut to make one think that the wind had some hand in the styling. His shirt points were correctly starched, his neckcloth fashionably tied, his velvet coat well fitted—and Jewelene never noticed anymore that one empty sleeve was folded and pinned at the elbow. His smile was warm and welcoming, and she adored him.

  “Jewels!” he said, tossing his cape and top hat aside as he came forward to take her hand and bring it up to meet his lips.

  She liked Ben so much, and she gave him a coquettish smile as he took off her kid gloves and kissed her fingertips flirtatiously. Neither one was serious, and they both knew it. “Oh sir, you take my breath away, you handsome devil!” It was a harmless game they played—harmless and safe, and one they both enjoyed.

  “So, puss, what brings you here?” he asked as he turned to his satinwood wall table and a decanter of sherry. He offered her a glass, accepted silently when she shook her head, and poured himself one.

  “Ben, I have the solution!” she said, smiling at his back.

  He turned and gazed at her a moment before taking a sip of the sherry he held to his lips. “Do you now? That sounds like trouble.”

  She took a step towards him. “It came to me yesterday when I was in the attic going through m’mother’s clothes. You know we have the dowager Lyndhurst’s son and his cousin staying with us, and I thought I might find a few pretty things to wear, but never mind that now. I also found a lovely black wig, a mask, and a most unusual red ball dress. I remembered that Mama had worn the outfit to a masquerade ball. Oh, it was many years ago … when I was quite young. She went as a Fr
ench woman, and it came to me … so shall I!”

  “You have totally lost me, child.”

  “Lyla said you were most distressed when your best female Faro dealer left to get married …” Jewelene said slowly.

  Dawning and then disbelief lit on his face. “Aha … I shall call for the doctor at once, my little friend, for you have gone mad.”

  “No, no … only do listen, Ben. I shall wear the wig, the mask, and the gown. You and Papa often said there wasn’t another female alive who could deal faro as well as I … and we do so need the entrance fee for Lightning …”

  “Ah, so that is what this is about? The entrance fee for Derby? Dearest, I shall lend you—”

  “No. We don’t want charity. We want to do this on our own. You didn’t take charity when you started the Silver Heart. You pawned everything you had … you stood up like the man you are, and you took charge. Allow me to work for my family … for our way out of our mess …”

  “But, darling, if you get caught … you will be ruined.”

  “I shan’t get caught, because you will have my back and I will be Babette … in disguise.”

  “No. I won’t let you do this.”

  “Then you are sending me to Omsbury.”

  “Over my dead body!” Ben snapped. “He is a cad—a devil! Don’t blackmail me, girl … don’t do this.”

  “What choice do I have, Ben?” She shook her head. “Things are dire, Ben … the next thing that will happen—we shall lose our home …”

  “I won’t let that happen.”

  “Ben … let me earn the entrance fee as Babette,” she said quietly. “I can do it.”

  “What if Lightning loses …? What then—have you thought of that?”

  “One thing at a time, dear Ben … one thing at a time.”

  “Mad—absolutely raving … and I must be as well, because, damn … I think we can get away with it for a short while …” He shook his finger at her. “For only a very short while …” He looked upwards and whispered, “God preserve us this day’s work.”

  Five

  RYKER STOOD APART from the assembled group in the parlor of Henshaw House and studied them. Everything was all wrong. This was not the desired result he had looked for when he had switched identities with his cousin. Things had not progressed according to his plans. For one thing, Robby was a mess, guilt-ridden and complaining at every turn that it wasn’t right to deceive these good people. He’d even threatened to leave.

  Indeed, Robby had a point. Ryker had expected the family to be greedy, grasping and insincere. It was what he had thus far encountered when there was a chit of marriageable age being thrust at him.

  Instead, Jewelene Henshaw was like no other female of his acquaintance. She didn’t seem to have any interest in the man she believed to be the wealthy marquis. It was obvious the Henshaw family was in need of a desirable match, since he could see from the lack of servants and the state of the grounds that all was not well. In fact, he believed the Henshaws were in dire straits.

  This troublesome thought had plagued him during dinner, which had turned out to be surprisingly more fun than he had had in quite some time. It was informal and lively, with banter on many subjects exchanged throughout and without restraint. The food was simple but tasteful. Jewelene and her brother were amiable, as was their sweet cousin Elizabeth in her gentle fashion, and Ryker found that he liked this family immensely.

  Hence, all he need do was say his farewells and be on his way. It would solve the problem he had, for he no longer had any wish to continue the wager with his cousin and flirt up Jewelene to prove a point.

  However, he didn’t want to leave. He was perpetrating a lie from which he would have no easy way to extract himself, and yet he wanted to stay. He wished he could extricate himself from the situation, because he discovered he desperately wanted to start over. The moment he had looked up and seen Jewelene’s unselfconscious entrance at the top of the stairs earlier that evening, he knew he wasn’t ready to leave.

  He had felt a wave of shock tingle through his body as he watched her graceful descent. In her buckskins she had been something of a hoyden—a beauty, but a wild thing that looked as though she needed a bit of taming, and the notion had excited him.

  This evening she had stood at the head of the stairs in a velvet gown of sea green. The color had enhanced the green of her eyes. Her honey-colored hair was caught at the top of her head by a green ribbon and fell in ringlets all about her head. Her movements were almost ethereal, and it was a difficult thing, indeed, to associate her with the roughly clothed wildcat of the afternoon. To his surprise, he found he liked both sides of her.

  He saw before him the naughty child transformed into a regal goddess and felt his dick pulse within his breeches!

  He found himself looking at her more than he should, and that was another thing that surprised him. He was used to having beauties thrown at him. He had had his share of lovelies in his bed, but this one captured his imagination. He felt almost enchanted by everything she said and did.

  She, on the other hand, did not seem interested in him or Robby at all. If anything she seemed happy enough to encourage her cousin’s friendship with Robby, whom she believed to be the wealthy marquis. How very odd was that?

  As she smiled and approached him he felt a certain burning in his blood, and he couldn’t stop himself from glancing at the swells of her full breasts. His eyes then took the path up her neck, past her lovely chin, and found her exquisite lips. He couldn’t stop himself from looking at those lips and imagining them opening for his tongue. He was acting like a schoolboy …

  “And here you stand—aloof to all, sir.” She sighed and said boldly, “Shall I dispense with the formalities and call you Ryker?” Her eyes twinkled with merriment, and he was hard put to it to do anything but stare into their depths.

  He thought as he spoke that a less experienced man would have been forever enslaved by that saucy look of hers. He chuckled and answered, “Yes, do, Miss Henshaw—call me Ryker. I like the sound of my name on your lips.” She obviously enjoyed shocking with her direct approach. He would give her as good as she gave.

  “Well then, you must reciprocate the favor and call me Jewelene.” She appeared to be enjoying herself immensely as she wagged her finger.

  He took hold of it and put it to his lips. “Done, Jewelene—it is,” he said on a husky note and had the satisfaction of watching her lashes flicker. He had gotten to her at last. He had meant to, and something strong and hot took over his mind so that he had a difficult time releasing her finger.

  She tried to recoup her composure; though her lashes fluttered, a pink color infused her cheeks as she said, “Ah, but don’t stop there. You must tell me about yourself. We know so little about you, other than the fact that you are the marquis’ cousin.”

  She had tried to speak casually, but he heard a tremor in her voice, and it excited him beyond his imagination. “There is really very little about me worth the knowing,” he said evasively. He suddenly wanted to tell her that he was the marquis, that he could take her to places she had only dreamt of going to, that he was the one …

  What the bloody hell was wrong with him? He was behaving as though … and he didn’t behave that way. He was an experienced lover and knew well to stay clear of chits who had not yet cut their teeth!

  Damn, but he had set himself up for trouble with this game of switched identities. Why had he not foreseen the complications involved? Why had he not seen that the deception might turn ugly? This was a lovely family—she was an innocent beauty—and his lie suddenly shamed him. He had to find a way out of it.

  She laughed. “So deep in thought, Ryker? And I am sure there is a great deal about you worth the knowing. For example, I see from your excellently cut and well fitted clothes that you are not only a man of fashion, but a Corinthian as well—probably an amateur pugilist …”

  “Very astute.” He grinned.

  “And from your knowledge of ho
rseflesh, which you displayed earlier, I would also say you are an accomplished whip—am I wrong?”

  “I do like my horses and have an eye … if that is what you mean,” he acceded carefully.

  “Ah, your eyes tell me you are holding back. I wonder, what secrets do you hide in that mysterious brain?” she teased.

  Ryker was taken aback. What did she know? How could she know anything? He stared hard at her a moment before he realized she was only at play. “Secrets?” he teased back with a shrug. “What secrets could I have?”

  “May I?” she said, taking up his hand. It was an idle gesture, and yet he felt a shiver rush up his arm. Idiot, he silently berated himself as she softly said, “Palm reading, sir—you know it tells all.”

  “Very well, then. Have at me.” He was enjoying himself immensely. Had circumstances been otherwise, he would have liked to take this tantalizing pretty to his bed. But that was out of the question. She was obviously untried, and he had no intention of ruining a virgin, even though this one—ah, this one tried his soul.

  “Aha! Your lifeline spells longevity and more … you see these little strokes that criss-cross …?” she asked, pointing with dramatic affect as she was making it up as she went along. “These speak of the chances you like to take. You are a very secretive but bold man, Ryker, and yes, you enjoy breaking rules …”

  “Do I? You should know, pretty Jewelene …” he teased and once again was enchanted by her blush.

  She sighed. “Yes, you are right there. I am a rule breaker. There are so many of them that apply to women but not men. Very annoying.”

  He laughed right out loud. “Yes, I can see that would annoy you. But I make no mystery of the fact that I enjoy a game that doesn’t follow the rules …” he returned, using his eyes to flirt outrageously with her.

  “And I would also guess that you enjoy gaming now and then?” she said, returning his saucy look.