Rogues, Rakes & Jewels

by Claudy Conn

  “Aye, if that is so, Ryker,” Jimmy stuck in enthusiastically, “then you have come to the right place. We have a great place for gaming right here in Yarmouth—the Silver Heart.”

  “Well then, I must look in at this Silver Heart,” he answered her brother. When he turned back he noticed the sudden flutter of consternation that crossed Jewelene’s face. However, she quickly turned away and began conversing with her cousin Elizabeth, asking if they should get up a game of ‘Derby Run’ for their guests.

  “Yes!” Jimmy agreed, looking like the youth he was. “Come on, Lizzie girl, ’tis all the crack!”

  “Is it, but I am unsure …” answered Elizabeth.

  “Don’t worry, dear … I’ll show you the way of it. We can play partners if you like and make Aunt Dora deal,” Jewelene offered.

  “Oh, yes, I should like that—just until I acquire the knack of it, Jewels.” She smiled warmly at her cousin.

  “By Jove, yes!” Robby agreed happily. “’Tis devilishly good fun, though I haven’t played it since Christmas with m’younger bro—” He suddenly went silent as he recalled that the marquis whom he was pretending to be did not have any brothers.

  “Brothers?” Jewelene asked at once. “I understood you were an only child … only son?”

  “Yes, so I am, m’cousins … close … call them young brothers …”

  Robby’s face was scarlet as he turned to look helplessly at Ryker, who came immediately to his rescue by handing him a glass of sherry and turning to say, “Well, shall we get this game started?”

  “Oh … oh, yes of course …”

  Derby Run was a horse race run with cards. It was fast-paced, undeniably childish, and total fun. Bets had been placed, and hooting, rooting, and howling had commenced when Stanton entered and announced Lord Reginald Omsbury.

  All heads turned as a man of average height and build entered. He was well dressed in a gray superfine. His black hair touched with gray was cut ‘a la Brutus’, and his dark eyes were set deep in a not unattractive face. He went forward first to Mrs. Debbs and took her hand, murmuring something low. Then he adroitly managed to ignore the remaining company with the exception of one on whom he focused. He made his way to Jewelene, bent over the hand she reluctantly offered to him from where she sat on the floor, and placed a far too warm kiss upon it.

  “Jewelene, as always—enchanting.”

  “And, my lord, as always, though gallant, far too bold,” she said sweetly. Behind her, her brother swallowed a laugh.

  Without waiting for his reply she hurried on, “Allow me to make you known to our guests. You may recall meeting the dowager Lady Lyndhurst when she visited with us, not too long ago. Well, I am pleased to make her son the marquis”—she indicated the blushing Robby—“known to you, as well as his cousin, the Honorable Ryker Robendale. His Lordship Reginald Omsbury.”

  Omsbury’s estates were situated on the Isle of Wight. However, he was well off, and until this past year he had spent most of his time in London, where he maintained a town house. It was his ardent desire to make Jewelene his wife that had kept him on the Isle. Though he had never met the marquis, he was well acquainted with his reputation. The stout young man blushing before him did not fit any of the stories he had heard about Lyndhurst, and he was surprised. He frowned but then dismissed the problem from his mind.

  He returned his attention once again to Jewels and ignored her frowning brother. “Jewelene, grant me a moment of your time …”

  “She don’t want to grant you a moment,” growled Jimmy.

  Jewels cast her brother a warning glance even as she hoisted herself up from the floor and brushed her hands together. “Of course, my lord,” she said graciously. She turned to the interested party at her back. “If you will excuse me.”

  She led his lordship out, across the hall, and into the library, careful to leave the door open. She then turned, hands on hips and eyes glaring. “Now, my lord, will you tell me why you chose to single me out so pointedly at this hour of the evening and in front of all my guests?”

  “It has come to my attention—if I may be so blunt—that you mean to honor the notes your father incurred when he chose to buy the machinery for the mill he had acquired before his death—” he started to say.

  “How dare you!” She was outraged. “What I choose to do or not do is my family’s business … no others’.”

  He put up his hand. “Hear me out … Jewelene, do not allow your temper to rule your good sense. I wish to redeem those notes—shall we say, as a wedding present.”

  “I don’t know how you came to have your information, but the man I am indebted to was a friend of my father’s and is a friend to me. He will not sell you those notes, and I will repay him myself.”

  “He is heavily in debt himself and in no position to be gracious!” snapped Omsbury. “I told you, Jewelene. I am tired of being patient!” His hand reached out and took hold of her arm, pinching through the velvet. “It has taken me a while, but I have managed to obtain the mortgage notes your friend Ben Clay was forced into taking on with his bank this past year. He may have brought himself about, but now I hold the notes over his head … at a considerably higher interest rate.”

  She yanked out of his grip. “Fiend. Think you can frighten me with such a threat? Think you can frighten a man like Ben? Think we don’t know how to counter a creature such as yourself? If so, think again.”

  *

  Ryker had felt the tension between Mrs. Debbs and young Jimmy when Omsbury appeared. It was a palpable thing that filled the atmosphere. Whatever did this Omsbury hold over them? He stretched leisurely and broke the still quiet of the room.

  “He is a horrid man!” Elizabeth said with some heat.

  “Hush, dear,” her mother said, patting her hand. “Jewelene knows how to deal with him.”

  “Yes, but, Mama …” objected her daughter.

  This little exchange surprised Ryker. He didn’t think Elizabeth had it in her to express herself so strongly. However, it was Jimmy who started for the wide doorway. “Think I’ll just—”

  His aunt pulled at his arm. “She will not like it, James, and it might make matters worse …”

  “But, Aunt—”

  “Well, I am certain Jewelene won’t mind her guest fetching her back to the game …” Ryker said, moving purposely towards the doorway.

  He reached the open library doorway in time to hear Omsbury’s low, guttural words. “Mind me, Jewelene—you have teased me long enough. One way or another, I will have you. You will give over willingly … or …” Omsbury’s hands went around her trim waist as she pushed hard at his chest and demanded release.

  “I think the lady wishes to return to her brother and her card game …” Ryker said in a low, quiet tone as he stepped into the library and met Omsbury’s angry eyes with hard determination. Few men could mistake the threat in Ryker’s sharp glance.

  Omsbury was used to doing what he wanted, when he wanted; however, something in the cut of the taller, larger man’s stance and the unspoken challenge made him pause. He inclined his head as he released Jewelene. “Of course, it is always my wish to please Jewelene.”

  Jewels was so angry that she smacked his chest as she turned and took her leave, stomping forward. She paused only to look up at Ryker and mouth silently, “Thank you.”

  Ryker cast Omsbury one look over his shoulder and said softly as he followed her, “I’m sure you can show yourself out …”

  *

  “Don’t like this, Ryker—these are good and decent people. Not like the sort it would be acceptable to foist a trick upon. These are … honest, decent … I don’t like this. We should tell them the truth—confess … tell them we only meant a bit of a jest … confess it all now, before it is too late …” Robby was still in his nightcap and in his bed, sipping the hot chocolate his friend had brought him.

  “Aye, I have been thinking much the same thing, Robby.”

  “Have you?” Robby sighed happil
y. “Well, then, it is all settled. How and when is all we need work—”

  “I’m not sure about the how and the when. We have to give it some thought.” Ryker cut him off and moved over to the window, where he caught a glimpse of Jewelene already outside. He set down his cup and said hurriedly, “Later, Robby …” and was off.

  He took the stairs much like a large cat tracking, every muscle working, stopping only when he was outdoors to survey his unfamiliar surroundings. Establishing the direction of the stables, which he assumed was Jewelene’s destination, he hurried after her. At the stable door he caught his breath a moment before startling her with, “Why, Jewelene … this is wonderful, indeed. It would appear that I am not alone in my passion for early morning excursions.”

  *

  Jewelene felt her heart flutter. Heat streamed through her body, and she found herself studying the ground for a moment. This man filled her with a rush of desire—the kind her friends had often whispered about, the kind she had wondered about … and this had never happened before.

  She was twenty-one and had experienced infatuations, but this man made her wonder what it would feel like to actually go past the kiss and feel his hands … “Good morning, Ryker,” she said softly, wishing her heart wouldn’t pound so loudly. Could he hear it?

  “Are you going into town? You can show me the way of it … and perhaps point out this Silver Heart your brother mentioned last evening.”

  “Speaking of last evening, thank you for interceding when you did … I had not thought his lordship would dare be so forward with my brother and guests nearby.”

  He didn’t answer her but inclined his head, and once again she felt oddly flustered. She had a great deal on her mind, and she was actually on her way to visit Ben to finalize a few details of their scheme and to tell him about Omsbury’s threats. Would it look odd to him if she said she was off to visit the Clays again? What would he think? Why should she care what he thought? What should she say?

  “Well, yes, I am going to town,” she said, having finally decided to just brave it through as best she could. “I am going to visit with Mrs. Clay … and will be happy to point out the Silver Heart to you, which by the way, belongs to her son.”

  Ryker’s eyes narrowed as he took this information in, and she wondered what he was thinking, for she could see something was busy in his brain. His voice was low and husky and sent shivers through her when he spoke, even though all he said was, “Ah, I see, excellent—then, shall we?”

  It didn’t take long before they were riding down the country lane towards town. Ryker looked skyward and then smiled her way. “Sun seems to be trying …”

  A quick smile flickered over her face. He was making idle conversation because she had been so quiet, and she had been so quiet because, for just a moment, she was at a loss for words. Her family and friends would have been astounded.

  “Always does this time of year,” was all she could come up with immediately, but then she thought to ask, “Tell me, sir, I can understand why your cousin is here—his mama no doubt insisted he come visit, and she told us she would ask him to—but you, sir … whatever are you doing here?”

  “What an odd thing to ask. Why does it surprise you that I accompanied my cousin?”

  “You look like a London beau to me … I would have guessed you enjoyed London at this time of year too much to leave it.”

  “Well, in that, you are wrong. I do enjoy London, but I have a country home …” As soon as the words were out he realized he had made a slip and hurriedly corrected it. “I like the country just as well.”

  “A country home? Where, sir?”

  “Just outside London … easy enough to get to,” he said vaguely. “Always wanted to visit the Isle of Wight, and when m’cousin asked, thought it would be a good opportunity.”

  She laughed with obvious disbelief. “Fudge.”

  “You don’t believe me … but then what other explanation is there?”

  She sighed. “You are right. I can’t find one.”

  “Now it is my turn,” he said.

  “For what?”

  “To ask a question.”

  “What question?”

  “Why it is you are not married?” He eyed her curiously.

  She laughed without mirth. “Oh, it is easy enough to answer.”

  “I understand that without a London season it might be—”

  “Oh, do not mistake, I had a London season, when I was eighteen and my parents were still alive …” She interrupted to correct him.

  “Then this is a mystery, and it leaves me baffled. You say you had a London season, what … three years ago if you were eighteen, so I wonder how it was I did not see you there, but then I stayed away from marriageable females.” He winked at her and added, “So then, you had a London season and mean to tell me you hadn’t any suitors?” He shook his head. “I find that impossible to believe. You are too beautiful a woman not to have been snapped up, with or without a dowry!”

  She dimpled at the compliment. “Why do you assume I did not receive offers—for I most certainly did?”

  “Then did your parents not approve of any of the London bucks that applied for your hand?”

  “Oh they approved—even pushed me to accept one in particular … Buckingham—but I wasn’t in love with him.”

  “Buckingham?” Ryker exclaimed in shocked accents. “Never say Buckingham proposed to you? He never said a word.”

  “Yes, and I don’t suppose he would have mentioned it, as I turned him down.” She sighed. “But he did, along with another whose name escapes me. You see, for some strange reason, I took and became all the rage with the Haute Ton. I thought it odd, but there you are—one never knows what next the beau monde will chase after. At any rate, I believe Bucky thought it fashionable to court me, and then he got caught up in the frenzy of it. He was very much relieved when I turned him down, I do assure you.”

  “Bucky? You called him Bucky?” Ryker was incredulous. “How did I miss you … how did I miss the entire thing? You know of course that Buckingham is probably the wealthiest man in all of England …” Ryker’s tone displayed his continued astonishment.

  She laughed and then sighed sadly. “Yes, and it is most inconvenient that I could not fall in love with him, for it would have pleased my parents, but there you are. What is it that people are always saying about the heart? It wants what it wants.” She shook her head. “I suppose that is trite but true. At any rate, my heart was not in it …”

  “I see. So then, you only mean to give your hand after your heart …” He went thoughtful for the flash of a moment and then said, “And then, of course, you never had another chance at a season. You lost your parents …”

  “Ah, precisely. Yes, we lost our parents, and it was, for a time, devastating. We were all very close, and it was all so sudden. The grief was overwhelming for a time …” She looked away and bit her lip.

  “And yet, you had to pick yourself up and see to your brother,” he said softly.

  She gave him a half-smile. “Yes. Thank goodness for Jimmy. We had each other, and then of course we had Henshaw to see to, as my father had left things in a bit of a fumble.” She sighed. “And now, there is no dowry …”

  “It doesn’t seem to bother this Omsbury cad.”

  “He is a toad,” was what she answered.

  “And it wouldn’t bother my cousin, but if you mean to throw your cap his way—you will find him sorely lacking,” he confided with a grin. “He isn’t in the petticoat line.”

  “My cap!” she blustered back at him. “Let me tell you, sir, that I don’t fling my cap at anyone, anywhere! I don’t fling caps, but if I did decide to do such an unseemly thing, it wouldn’t be because of position or wealth …”

  He laughed out loud. “Touché, my dear—but then where do you mean to fling it, for fling it sooner or later you must? Not onto Omsbury soil …?”

  “Oh … after I just told you he was a toad?” She eyed him ang
rily and said, “Find your own way to the Silver Heart, sir,” and moved off into a canter.

  He followed her and cantered up beside her to shout, “Jewelene—Jewels … Miss Henshaw …”

  She eyed him angrily. “Go away.”

  “I do apologize … I don’t know what got into me, and I most heartily beg your pardon …”

  “Bad manners is what got into you.”

  “Yes … and I am truly sorry …”

  She slowed her horse and eyed him. “How dare you speak to me in such a manner after I confided in you!” She wagged a finger at him. “If I were a man, I would cut out your liver and feed it to Caesar.”

  He hung his head. “How very bloodthirsty of you, to be sure … I shall be careful in the future.”

  She eyed him suspiciously as she sensed a chuckle behind his words. “You hardly know me, yet you said a most unflattering thing to me when you suggested I might be aiming my cap at Omsbury. Oh—ugh.”

  “Retracted—do not frown any longer … you will frighten off the sun …”

  She giggled. “Very well then …”

  He reached over and squeezed her gloved hand, and she felt a thrill rush up her arm and had the oddest notion come to her mind. She wished he would kiss her. She wanted him to lean into her and steal a kiss …

  However, he behaved like a perfect gentleman and did no such thing, and she admitted to herself that she was disappointed.

  They arrived in town a few moments later. She pointed out the Silver Heart and the White Stag. Telling him she would meet him at the Stag in a few moments, she sauntered off, leaving him at her back.

  Six

  JEWELS MET BEN as he stepped out of his house onto his front porch. She dusted off her buckskins breeches and ran up the steps, whereupon she threw her arms around him and sank against his very fine gray superfine.

  He pushed her away gently, took her chin in his hands, and said, “Something is wrong … isn’t it? What?” He looked around, thought better of it, and said, “Come inside and tell me.”

  As Jewels followed him inside she glanced over her shoulder and noticed Ryker across the street looking her way and frowning. She had a moment’s feeling of irritation. She imagined what it must look like to him to see her rush into Ben’s arms, and she didn’t want him to think that she and Ben were anything but friends. Why was a question she couldn’t answer and didn’t want to contemplate. So she set the problem aside, followed Ben into the parlor, and asked him, “Where are Lyla and your mother?”