The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 5

by MacMurrough, Sorcha

  She shrugged. "But I have a good life apart from that. Town bucks pay for this place, and me and me brother keep order. We get good takings and none of the gals need to stand out in the street in all weathers. It's a good life." She sounded as if she were trying to convince herself.

  Philip shook his head pityingly. "Bessie, you're too old for this carry on. Violent young men, police raids, disease. I'm a lawyer now, and support the clinic at Bethnal Green. We get people started on different lives. Men and women." He fished in his pockets. "It isn't much, but go see Dr. Herriot, and he'll fix you up."

  Bessie smiled wanly. "Can't teach an old bitch new tricks, but thank you for the offer."

  "I don't believe that. Here, take the money. And if you don't keep it for yourself, or ever go see Dr. Herriot, promise me if you get any tender young things here, you'll help save them."

  "Are you really so very rich then, Philip?" she said in awe.

  "Yes, I am. Australia was the making of me. Well, it and my wife."

  "Married her for her money, did ye?" Bessie said with a world weary air.

  Philip shook his head and said proudly, "No, she hadn't a penny. I married for love. Maybe you can too."

  Lawrence had observed the whole exchange, and decided he had witnessed enough. Whatever had been going on, Tavistock Crescent was most certainly a brothel. It wasn't possible for everyone to be in on such an elaborate hoax. And it would be easy enough to verify what the Madam had said with Matthew Sampson. And all that Philip had said about himself and the Rakehells.

  "Seen enough?" Philip asked, his tone gentle.

  Lawrence nodded wordlessly. He was still fuming, but more at himself than anyone else, for he felt like a fool.

  But then, just because Juliet didn't work in a boarding school didn't mean she was virtuous. In fact, if she kept company with Philip and the Avenel brothers, he was sure she had to be fallen. It wasn't a question of who, but how many.

  At the same time, though, as he cast a last lingering look at the women, trying to find anything to compare with Juliet's beauty, he told himself he almost didn't care.

  But there was still Matilda to deal with, which Lawrence pointed out as he and Philip headed back around the corner.

  "Matthew and Michael have gone to see her. I will notarise the paper they bring back and there will be an end to it."

  "Paper?"

  "Stating that there was a last minute change of plans and you both agreed to part amicably rather than risk an eternity of marital woe."

  "But I never—" Lawrence began to bluster. "How dare they! Who the hell do they think--"

  "The brother of the girl you ruined, and his loyal friend. As am I, and acting as their solicitor."

  "Very convenient," Lawrence sneered.

  Philip shrugged, rounded the corner, and pressed on. "It would have been more convenient if Alistair Grant were here, but there isn't time. Matthew will buy Matilda off. She won't be the loser by it, believe me."

  "Hah! The scandal, the indignity.... And what sort of sum could he possibly offer her that she would accept? She won't do it, I'm telling you. She would gain far more as my wife than anything Matthew could offer."

  Philip remained willfully silent. The less Lawrence knew about Matthew and Matilda's past affair, the better.

  When Philip continued to say nothing, he raged, "I think you're all insane. And I'm never going to forgive or forget this. Think you that everyone's problems will be solved if I simply wed the wench? A woman I detest?

  "Once she's married to me, I can do as I like with her. Beat her every day, take her children away from her. She will have no property, no legal rights or redress. If she's as innocent as you say, why would you marry her to a man like me, who spends the little spare time he isn't working trawling brothels and drinking and gambling at the club?"

  Philip gave him another long assessing look, then shrugged and strode on. "Many a reformed rake has been made by the love of a good woman. Or even a couple of naughty ones.

  "Besides, I know you, Lawrence. You're angry and you bluster, a lot more than you used to, if I may say so. Must be an effect of the colonial service. You used to be quite eloquent in the debating society. But you're not a violent man. And your family tragedy--"

  "Don't you dare say another word!" Lawrence barked.

  "I won't on that subject, except to say that if you harm a hair on her head, you'll have all of polite society's censure. And then where will your business be?"

  Lawrence fumed at the threat, and countered with one of his own. "I can keep her locked in the house so that no one will clap eyes on her from one end of the year to the next."

  "You can," Philip agreed evenly. "But realise also that if you ever want your commercial enterprise to succeed here, you could use wealthy patrons and investors like myself. You could also do a great deal worse than have the support of Lady Pemberton, as well as a Duke and an Earl."

  "Ah yes, Thomas Eltham and Michael Avenel."

  "Thomas and Michael's younger brother Randall, actually."

  Lawrence looked surprised at this piece of news, but was not going to allow himself to be distracted. "Thomas is a decent sort. What do you think he will say when he finds out you've blackmailed me into marrying a strumpet?"

  Philip paused at the front door of Matthew's mansion and fixed him with a hard stare. "The Duke of Ellesmere will be pleased to receive your wife and you. He will understand that the impetuousness of youth caused the two of you to fall in love and marry with undue haste. No one needs know any different unless you want to make certain that you, Juliet, and any children you might be blessed with will never be able to hold up their heads in polite company."

  Lawrence scowled but shrugged. "All right. You have every argument rehearsed to a tee. As I said, my debating skills are sadly rusted. I'll marry the chit. Where is she?"

  "Now you're not going to--"

  He shook his head. "No, I'm not going to hit her or shout at her. I just need to speak with her for a moment."

  "Very well. Go into the drawing room and wait. I'll talk to Althea and if she thinks it prudent, that Juliet is up to it, we will send for her."

  Juliet came a few moments later, approaching the man she had made love to so passionately only a short time before as timidly as a sparrow.

  The sight of her anguished expression was enough to make him swallow the nasty accusations that had been forming on his lips. "I just need to know one thing," he rasped. "If you really wish to marry me."

  "I've agreed to it," she said in an even tone which conveyed not a particle of emotion, though inwardly her heart was soaring at the prospect.

  He stared at her, trying to get some clue as to her feelings. "If you refuse, then all of this confusion and anger will be over. I can get my fiancee to take me back, and--"

  "Matilda?" she asked softly.

  "Yes, just so," he said in surprise.

  She sighed. He had no idea. She had to save him. And drat it all, she wanted him.

  "I'm sorry. I think the marriage between us should take place."

  His silver-grey eyes narrowed coldly. "And what if I told you that by marrying me you give up everything from your old life? Friends, family, everything? That I want nothing from Matthew or your family, and you shall be kept as little better than a servant to await my pleasure?

  "And I use the word pleasure loosely, for I vow you shall never get a moment of it as my wife. Never an ounce of kindness or consideration. If I marry you, I will own you, body and soul. So knowing all this, are you still prepared to marry me?"

  She thought again of the dreadful tales she had heard about Matilda. Lawrence was a big strong man, but there was an underlying brittleness and vulnerability about him which spoke volumes, even if she had yet to discern its source. Here was a man who feared love, emotional engagement, and yes, even happiness, joy. Because it would be taken away, always taken away...

  She heard the words, and knew as he looked at her that the last thing on his mi
nd was his loss of Matilda as a bride. She reached out her hand tentatively, and took his. "I understand, Lawrence. I will marry you, and take the consequences."

  "You're mad!" he exclaimed in exasperation, flinging her hand away, though he immediately regretted the loss of contact. He began to pace up and down in front of the hearth like a caged panther.

  "You will get no money, not be permitted to use your discretion in any way. And if our night results in a child, I shall not have him raised by a whore!"

  She lifted her chin to look him straight in the eyes. "No, no, you shan't, but by the mother who will love him."

  "And how could you love the child of such a fiend as the man forced to wed you, and who thus hates you?" he demanded, though even as he said the words, he was already reaching for her hand.

  She said softly, "The child is not responsible for the sins of the parents."

  His face fell, and once again he felt a dark presence in the back of his mind, trying to force itself up into his conscious waking thoughts.

  "No," he hissed, stepping away from her as though he had been burnt. "He would not be. But if I catch you sinning, it will be instant divorce, do you hear me? Step out of line once, and I shall make sure you envy the lowliest beggar or hussy in Covent Garden."

  Juliet could see his anger was more bluster and swagger than genuine emotion. Whatever she had said innocently enough had shaken him to his very core.

  He grabbed her arm, not roughly, but with a coiled strength which made her shiver at the power which resided in his huge frame. "Come, let's get this farce over with."

  "I shall just go up--"

  "Now."

  "Yes, Mr. Howard."

  "Don't start that with me. The cool, polite retreat into formality. My name is Lawrence. When I permit you to speak, you will use my given name. Mr. Howard was my father, or my elder brother or uncle, now deceased. I am your husband, Lawrence, or darling, said with the appropriate degree of tenderness and reverence in front of the world.

  "Since you're such a remarkable actress, I'm sure you'll play the role of a good wife to perfection. And play it you will, for everyone else except me. I know what you are, but whenever we are in London, we'll need to keep up appearances.

  "Do not think to ask for help, or shame me in front of any of your friends and acquaintances. For all anyone in the Ton shall ever know, we met, fell in love, and wed. I will not have us tying our garters in public, do you hear me? It would ruin me before I ever got my business plans under way. I've made too many sacrifices to let it all go now for one quiddle of my cod."

  She could not resist teasing him despite his fury. "More than one, I seem to recall."

  Her words were as powerful as a caress on his most private parts. He growled, "Don't remind me."

  "Why not? It was wonderful. I can scarcely stop thinking about it. Why be ashamed of the joy we gave one another?"

  Why indeed.

  "None of your whore's tricks, now. Behave!"

  Juliet stared up at him. "I wasn't aware it was a trick to be truthful."

  "Then I shall be truthful. I shall not have you back in my bed. I've told you, you'll get no pleasure from me," he said impetuously, damning himself for a fool even as he did so.

  For the alluring curve of her bosom, and the smell of her light fragrance made his head swim. He had all to do not to tear from her the elegant pale blue gown which draped over her luscious hips and thighs so artfully as to both conceal and reveal.

  "Or if I do futter you, it will be only if there is no one else about, or as something only slightly better than using my own hand."

  He ignored her looks of confusion and shock and dragged her to the library, where Matthew handed him the paper Matilda had signed.

  "My, you really do know how to get what you want," Lawrence commented acerbically. "But make no mistake, Juliet will never learn anything about my business, or have access to my personal papers or my finances. So any attempts you might make to ruin me will be pointless."

  Matthew said calmly, "I have no intention of ruining you. My sister would only get dragged down with you. She most certainly deserves a better life than she's had up until now. If you liked her enough to seduce her, then you can be a man and do your duty, pay for what you did by giving her your name and treating her well. But be warned. I will not stand by if I find out you have physically mistreated her in any way."

  Lawrence stiffened. "I am no wife beater."

  "But nor does you family--"

  "Enough!" he seethed. "I have said I will marry the wench. That shall have to suffice."

  Juliet stood with her head hung low, and almost declared she had changed her mind.

  But the thought of Matilda made her shiver. Lawrence was angry now, but not a bad man. Not a degenerate...

  He couldn't be. Not the man she had so suddenly begun to admire, possibly even love....

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Lawrence did not even express any surprise at another of the Rakehells arriving a short time later to preside at the ceremony. Ever since he had stepped into this house he had felt as though his whole life had been turned upside down.

  "My dear chap, welcome back," the handsome vicar said, offering his hand warmly.

  "Well, well, Jonathan Deveril. It's been a long time. Let's just leave the pleasantries for the moment and get on with it."

  He blinked and nodded. "Whatever you wish. This is your big day."

  Jonathan started the ceremony with his words of welcome and opening remarks. The order of service went like clockwork, though neither Lawrence nor Juliet could manage to sing the hymns, so choked up with a welter of emotions were they.

  She listened to the words of 'My song is love unknown' with a sense of complete unreality. She who had never dreamt of uniting her life with another's was now marrying a virtual stranger who thought her a trollop, in order to save him from a real one.

  My song is love unknown,

  my Savior's love to me,

  love to the loveless shown

  that they might lovely be....

  Michael and Philip did credit to their friends by reciting their passages perfectly, without a single glance at the Bible set upon the desk. Jonathan selected the standard Genesis 2:15 to 24, but gave Lawrence a pointed message to Lawrence with I Corinthians 13:1 to 13:

  "If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give away all I have, and if I deliver my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing. Love is patient and kind; love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong, but rejoices in the right. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends; as for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away. For our knowledge is imperfect and our prophecy is imperfect; but when the perfect comes, the imperfect will pass away.

  "When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became a man, I gave up childish ways. For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall understand fully, even as I have been fully understood. So faith, hope, love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love."

  Philip chose Proverbs 31:10 to 31 in order to send his old friend another message. "A wife of noble character, who can find? She is worth far more than rubies. Her husband has full confidence in her and lacks nothing of value. She brings him good, not harm, all the days of her life. She selects wool and flax and works with eager hands. She is like the merchant ships, bringing her food from afar. She gets up while it is still dark; she provides food for her family and portions for her servant girls. She considers a field and buys it; out of her earnings s
he plants a vineyard. She sets about her work vigorously; her arms are strong for her tasks. She sees that her trading is profitable, and her lamp does not go out at night. In her hand she holds the distaff and grasps the spindle with her fingers. She opens her arms to the poor and extends her hands to the needy. When it snows, she has no fear for her household; for all of them are clothed in scarlet. She makes coverings for her bed; she is clothed in fine linen and purple. Her husband is respected at the city gate, where he takes his seat among the elders of the land. She makes linen garments and sells them, and supplies the merchants with sashes. She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come. She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue. She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: 'Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all.' Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised. Give her the reward she has earned, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate."