The Rogue's Revenge

by Lucy E. Zahnle

  Rising, Robin towered over her. "Are you with child, madame?" She blushed, lowering her eyes. "Then you may expect a visit from me tonight as usual," he said.

  She leaped to her feet. "I shall lock my door!"

  "Then I shall be forced to break it down, ma douce!" Robin's smile was evil as he bowed and strolled from the room, leaving her furious and alone. With an exasperated stamp of her foot, she grabbed a crystal water goblet and threw it at the door.

  Unfortunately, Laddock chose that moment to enter. Cringing, he threw an arm up to protect his face as the cup shattered against the woodwork. Picking his way through the sparkling crystal shards, he presented a silver tray laden with calling cards to the duchess.

  "Oh! I am sorry, Laddock!" Lucia gasped. "Are you hurt?"

  "No, Your Grace," he said, brushing a few splinters of glass from his coat.

  She chose a card at random from the tray. "More visitors?"

  "The Earl of Cothcourt and his family, Your Grace. I took the liberty of showing them to the Gold Salon." She glanced up, cocking a delicate brow. "The new Gold Salon, Your Grace," Laddock assured her. "I do not make the same mistake twice."

  "Where is His Grace?" Lucia dreaded another explosive situation if Robin should decide to confront her family.

  "He has retired to his chambers, Your Grace."

  "Good! I will go to my guests. Thank you, Laddock."

  ***

  In his bedchamber, Robin slumped into a chair, heartily regretting his decision of a month ago to return to England. Was it only a month? It seemed a century! He did not enjoy having the Polite World gape at him as if he were a circus freak whenever he went out. It was worse still to meet with Lucia's reproachful glances and sharp tongue at home. Robin sighed. Perhaps he deserved Lucia's animosity, but that did not make it any easier to bear.

  A wave of longing for sweet Paris engulfed him; Paris where he met smiling friends instead of glowering enemies and gawkers who crossed the street to avoid him. He missed his little hotel in the Rue de le Roi and the quiet, comfortable life he had created there. Mon Dieu, but he ached for home!

  He stared at the trunk Laddock had placed in his chamber the week before. His curiosity stirring, he knelt to examine it. Its' lock little more than flakes of rust, the battered valise was secured with buckles and worn leather straps. When he cut the straps with his boot knife, the trunk shed a few chips of scarlet paint, hinting at long vanished elegance.

  As he opened the trunk, his fingers brushed the blue woolen gown that Lucia had worn the day she pulled Honor from his coach's path and he surmised that Saddewythe must have sent Lucia's belongings around to Lynkellyn House. Under that dress were three more of the same shapeless, much-mended caliber, a threadbare silk robe de chambre, a faded flannel nightgown, and a small box of toiletries. Beneath this meager wardrobe lay a dented silver brandy flask engraved with the Cothcourt crest, an embroidered silk scarf with unicorns gamboling around some initials, and miniature portraits of a man and a woman. He carefully placed the portraits on the scarf and drew out a boxed set of dueling pistols. The weapons were well kept, but showed a great deal of wear.

  At the bottom of the trunk, he found some frayed books and a small brass jewelry casket. Inside, an elegant enameled brooch and a couple of ivory combs, encrusted with paste diamonds lay atop a packet of letters, yellowed with age and tied with a blue ribbon. The Cothcourts' marriage lines and a few of their love letters lay on top of the little stack. Further down, he discovered a letter with the crest of the Ducs de Mondecharles.

  The letter had apparently been in reply to Lucia's plea for assistance from her family and the venom in the ornate lines made him almost physically ill. The Duc de Mondecharles made it painfully clear that he despised his granddaughter. He threatened to horsewhip her should she endeavor to benefit from her kinship with him and expressed a rabid desire to see her 'bleeding in the gutter'. Robin shook his head in disbelief as he retied the papers and returned them to the brass box.

  As he placed the jewelry casket back in the valise, his fingertips brushed a tiny piece of velvet at the bottom of the chest. The material seemed to disappear where the floor of the trunk joined its side. Quickly, he took out the box and pried at the bottom of the chest with his fingers. After a few seconds, he lifted it up to disclose a secret compartment.

  The black velvet which had aroused Robin's curiosity proved to be a waistcoat intricately embroidered with silver thread. Beneath it, he found a full suit of gentleman's garb, leather shoes with steel buckles, a battered, black tricorne, gloves, and a mask. Hidden under the clothing was a purse, heavy with coins.

  Lucia must have been ready to bolt from the Saddewythes' without a moment's warning if the necessity arose, he thought as he repacked everything. He fully intended to return her belongings to her, but he knew she would bear even closer watching once she had them.

  ***

  Lucia forced a smile and entered the Gold Salon, hoping to find friends among her family, but her foot barely crossed the threshold before Lady Laddon attacked. "You wicked, ungrateful wretch! How could you disgrace your family so?"

  Stung, Lucia looked from her aunt to the leering Lord Laddon, then to the Earl and Countess of Cothcourt and their children, the pompous Mr. Henry, esquire, and the giggling Miss Sophia. "I was under the impression that my very existence disgraces my family," she said.

  Lady Laddon's face flushed a furious, ugly red. "Don't be impertinent, girl! You know what I'm talking about. How could you marry a man like Robert Amberley?"

  "I love him." Lucia's eyes met her aunt's without apparent guile.

  "Love -- " Lavinia choked out. "Love!" Miss Sophia tittered.

  "Perhaps you have not heard about Amberley's escapade with Lady Malkent," Lord Cothcourt said. "Any man who would abduct a lady of quality is not deserving of your love, my dear."

  Lucia stiffened. "He has told me of the incident and swears that he is innocent. I believe him."

  "Poppycock!" Cothcourt's thick jowls shook. "Everyone knows he abducted her! Even his own family admitted it when they turned him off. You are as gullible as my poor brother was! Running off with that French doxy! Had a fine marriage arranged for him with an heiress from one of the best families, but the fool had to have his little French slut!"

  "My lord! You are speaking of my parents, whom I loved and respected."

  "Your father was a halfwit and your mother was a designing coquette who ruined his life," Lavinia shouted, jumping to her feet, "and you are just like them! The Cothcourt family will be forever shamed to claim the Duchess of Lynkellyn as a relation."

  "Then don't claim me! You never wanted me! Not really! And since I no longer require your assistance, we may all happily ignore each other from this moment forward. I thank you, Lady Laddon, for your past kindnesses. You need have no further concern for my welfare."

  "Past kindnesses!" Lavinia spluttered. "I took pity on you and gave you a home! And you repaid me by casting lures at my husband! I believe you have a great deal more of your mother's character than your father's!"

  "Seduction is my uncle's forte, not mine, milady. He is the terror of your female staff and you know it! How many unfortunates have you dismissed from your service this year alone because they were in the family way courtesy of his lordship?"

  "Well, I -- well!" Lady Laddon's mouth opened and closed until she resembled nothing so much as a flustered goldfish.

  Clamping her hands over her smirking daughter's ears, the Countess of Cothcourt glared at Lucia. "Lavinia's right! You are a harlot just like your mother! How dare you speak of such things in front of my sweet, innocent, little Sophia!"

  "How dare you! How dare all of you to come into my house and insult my family!" Lucia's voice shook with fury. "I will not have it! You've never had any concern for me before and it's too late now to offer advice! I loved my parents very much. I also love my husband and I'll hear nothing against any of them so if your only purpose in coming here is to heap hot coa
ls upon our heads, I must ask you to leave." Sparks danced in Lucia's eyes as she gestured toward the door.

  Lady Lavinia stalked out. Leering at Lucia, Lord Laddon rose and made as if to kiss her hand. She drew it out of his reach and glared. Shrugging, he sauntered out. Behind him, Cothcourt stopped to confront her.

  "Duchess or no, you will never be acknowledged or received by any member of the Cothcourt family nor by anyone else of breeding, I'll wager! A more unsavory pair than you and your -- 'husband' -- I've never had the misfortune to encounter."

  "Good day, my lord!" Lucia said. The earl marched out, nose in the air, his family following.

  Having heard raised voices, Laddock had a line of footmen waiting in the foyer with the departing guests' belongings and the Cothcourt clan was shown out with expedience.

  Just descending the stairs, Robin witnessed the mass exodus and lifted an inquiring brow at the butler. "The Earl of Cothcourt and his family have called, Your Grace." Laddock said. "Her Grace requested them to leave -- vehemently."

  Robin discovered Lucia in the Gold Salon sitting on the divan, her shoulders slumped, her eyes moist with tears she was fighting to conquer. Twisting a hapless lace handkerchief around her fingers, she stared miserably into space.

  He ached to hold her in his arms and caress away all the anguish that haunted her soul, but he dared not. They had hurt each other; spurned each other too often of late. Fear, anger, and distrust had raised a seemingly insurmountable wall between them and Robin could not bear to throw himself against that barrier again so soon after their last quarrel. Instead of going to her, he held himself back, his own pain curling like a cobra in his breast. "I've engaged a box at the theatre for us tonight, Lucia. We will leave after dinner," he said.

  "Very well." She did not look up.

  Disheartened, he left her staring dismally out the window at the late afternoon sun.

  ***

  While Anne waited anxiously, Lucia stood before her mirror, inspecting her appearance. Draped over a slip of pale gold silk, her gown of forest green satin embroidered with flowers and leaves shimmered when she moved. Her hair, coated with silver powder, was piled in intricate curls atop her head, the pale tresses intertwined with green and gold ribbons. A cluster of ringlets, intermingled with the ends of the ribbons, had been coaxed onto her shoulder. Satisfied, she collected a gilt-edged fan from her dressing table and headed to the library where Lynkellyn awaited her.

  All through the afternoon, she had mourned the realization that her family had made a special point of calling on her to insult her. Her kinsmen had felt no joy upon seeing her, no commiseration at her plight. Their only concern had been how her predicament would affect their standing in Society. They had cared nothing for her or her parents' welfare during the last twenty-five years. She could hardly expect them to change their attitudes over night. Robin was right. He was the only family she possessed. She was irrevocably tied to a scoundrel who had taken advantage of her in every possible way. Her jaw hardened and resentment reddened her cheeks as she joined Lynkellyn in the library.

  Robin sat on the arm of a chair, one leg dangling. His coat of black and gold brocade gleamed in the candlelight, an amber brooch nestling in the folds of his cravat. White lace, edged with gold, foamed at his throat and wrists. Clocked stockings encased his muscular legs. Golden shoes with amber buckles and amber studded heels glowed like brandy in the firelight. He raised his quizzing glass and surveyed her critically.

  "You look lovely, ma chérie," he smiled, standing as she entered the room. Searching her face, he said, "Are you feeling quite well? You seem a little flushed."

  "I am perfectly fit, Robin." She lowered her eyes to hide the storm that still roiled within her.

  "If you are fatigued, we can stay at home."

  "No. I'm looking forward to going out," she said with forced brightness, hoping that a little diversion might lift her spirits.

  "Bon!" Robin picked up a decanter of claret and two glasses from a side table. Splashing claret into the glasses, he gave one to Lucia. "To fortify us for the impending battle," he grinned.

  Lucia accepted her goblet without her usual protest and drank deeply. Robin sipped his wine, a frown playing across his features as he watched her. "Those swine are not worth so much heartache, ma chérie," he said.

  "I beg your pardon?" Lucia looked up, her tone sharp.

  "I am speaking of Cothcourt and his clan. I have always found it best to have no use for those who have no use for me. It saves everyone a great deal of trouble."

  "I had hoped that perhaps they might accept me now that I can live as they do. It isn't as if I were Papa's -- by-blow. I am a legitimate member of the family and I -- I only wanted their friendship." Her voice broke on the last word.

  "Tiens, ma chérie! I have never met such a one as you for sentimentality! Always babbling of love and friendship! Most 'friends' are just watching for a chance to stab you in the back, sometimes literally; and as for 'love', anyone who allows himself to be seduced by such a suspect emotion deserves all the ill that befalls him. Look at your own parents!"

  Lucia's chin rose. "They were very happy!"

  "Were they? Without a home? Without family? Without funds? Without honor?"

  "Sometimes when we hadn't a penny and we were sleeping in some alley, love was all that kept us going," Lucia said. "I remember chilly nights snuggled between Maman and Papa under a ragged cloak, listening to their stories about Paris or London. Their voices made me feel all cozy and warm inside despite the hunger and cold. When Maman and Papa were together, love permeated the air, softening the bad times and enriching the good."

  "People who live on love tend to starve," Robin sneered. "Cold, hard guineas will fill an empty belly a great deal quicker than romantic fantasies, ma chérie."

  "I gave up all my dreams of love when you threw me over your horse, Your Grace," she said sharply. "I merely hoped to be wanted -- esteemed -- a little by my father's family."

  Robin shook his head. "You don't need them, Lucia! You will soon have your babe to love."

  "What if I don't conceive a child? I might be barren. Had you thought of that?"

  "A woman of so passionate, so voluptuous a nature as yours cannot possibly be barren, ma chérie. When your infant is born, you may lavish all this misguided affection on it." Robin tossed off his wine and set down the glass. "We must leave now if we do not want to miss the first act."

  When the Amberleys entered their box at the theater, it lacked but a few minutes until the play began, much to the disappointment of the rest of the audience. Even as darkness descended, the curtain rose, and the actors launched into "The Tempest", curious eyes strayed toward the Lynkellyn box. Seated within this focal point of interest, Lucia, oblivious, traded her own troubles for those of Miranda, if only for a few hours.

  When the theater was lit at intermission, Society got its first good look at the infamous Rogue Robin and his stolen bride. Conversation lulled for a moment and then swelled as the Amberleys became the only topic on every wagging tongue.

  Suddenly aware of the many eyes upon her, Lucia glanced at Robin. "Are we such freaks that people are compelled to stare at us?"

  "We are merely notorious! It isn't often that a black sheep tries to force his way back into the fashionable fold." He smiled grimly as she unfurled her fan to hide her face. "Accustom yourself to the ton's censure, ma chérie. It will not disappear, I think, unless a miracle clears my name and softens a few Cothcourt hearts. Tiens! Let us speak of something more pleasant. Are you enjoying the performance?"

  "Oh, yes! The last time I saw Shakespeare performed was in France a year after my parents died. I was trying to earn my way on the stage."

  Robin grinned. "Let me guess! The play was 'Taming of the Shrew' and you were Kate the Cursed."

  She lifted her chin, a smile curling the edges of her mouth. "'Twas the role of Viola in 'Twelfth Night', my dear Petruchio, and the director said I was quite good. I had hoped life i
n the theater would provide me with family and security after my parents passed away."

  "And did it?"

  A shadow crossed her face. "For a time, but -- men tried to -- a rich and powerful man wanted to... to buy me and I had no choice but to flee."

  A knock sounded on the door of their compartment and Robin rose. "It appears that one brave and foolhardy soul wishes to commit social suicide in our company, ma chérie. Pardonnez moi?"

  When he opened the door, Lady Amaryllis Blayne swept into their box, dragging an unwilling Sir William by the arm.

  "Robin! We're delighted to see you here." she beamed. "If we had known that you and Lucia intended to attend the theater tonight, we would have invited you to share our box."

  One glance at Sir William's dismayed face brought a mocking gleam into Robin's eyes. "We would have been honored, Ryl, but we do not wish to impose upon you," he said, bowing over her hand.

  "Nonsense!" Amaryllis answered airily, moving toward Lucia at the front of the box. As she came into the theater audience's view, conversation almost died again, then climbed to a considerably higher volume than before. "Your Grace." Amaryllis smiled and held out her hands as Lucia rose. "What a lovely gown!"

  "Thank you. Won't you be seated?" Lucia nervously smoothed a wrinkle from her skirt as they sat.

  "I trust you had a pleasant afternoon?" Amaryllis asked.

  "My family -- that is, the Earl of Cothcourt and his family came to call," Lucia said with a tight smile.

  "They wished to congratulate you on your marriage?"

  Lucia looked directly into Amaryllis's eyes. "They despise me even more because of it, my lady. Surely you must realize that Robin and I are not received? We are scandal-ridden outcasts and, while I am grateful for your ladyship's kindness on our behalf, I cannot but fear that association with us may destroy your standing in Society."