The Captain's Courtesan

by Lucy Ashford

  ‘We’ll take care of all your plants, don’t you worry, miss,’ the soldiers had assured her when she bade them goodbye. ‘You’ll come back and see us, now, won’t you?’

  ‘I’ll certainly do my best.’ She smiled. The youngest of them, Mikey, shyly gave her a posy of flowers that sat, fading, in her bedroom here.

  She doubted that she would ever set foot in that garden again.

  So many mistakes. Too many mistakes.

  One evening Alec had stayed on for dinner, because Lord Conistone had some important guests who were interested in Alec’s opinions about the unjust fate of the many unemployed soldiers. Alec was sitting some way down the vast table, so she had no chance to talk to him, but she could see him. He looked so darkly handsome, so charismatic as he talked to Lucas and his guests. Once he glanced her way and caught her looking at him; he smiled and her heart was wrenched.

  He would not even touch her hand now. There was a look of strain in his dark eyes when they spoke, and lines of tension bracketed his mouth. To be so near to him still, to have to present herself as his betrothed and know that he could never love her, was apt punishment indeed for her mistakes.

  After dinner, she and Verena left the men to their port. ‘They are sure to join us later,’ Verena said, misunderstanding Rosalie’s low spirits. ‘Perhaps then you will get a chance to speak to Alec alone, my dear.’

  ‘Perhaps, but I’m afraid I feel rather tired tonight. I think I have a headache coming on. Will you tell Alec so, please, if he should ask?’

  ‘A headache? Would some powders help? Our housekeeper has various tisanes, or sometimes a lavender cologne can be soothing!’

  ‘Really, no, thank you. But you’ve been so very kind.’

  ‘Any friend of Alec’s is a friend of ours,’ said Verena earnestly. ‘You must be very happy, to be marrying him.’

  ‘Indeed.’ Rosalie managed to smile.

  She had almost reached the broad landing that led to her bedroom when Alec caught up with her. ‘Rosalie?’

  Why was it that just the sound of his husky voice so weakened her usual stubborn resolve? She turned to face him, her heart pounding as his dark eyes scoured her. ‘Rosalie,’ he went on, ‘Verena told me just now that you were not well.’

  She shook her head slightly. ‘It’s a headache, that is all.’

  ‘I hope you’re not worrying too much. You know that Katy and you are perfectly safe here. I’m sorry that we’ve had so little opportunity to talk.’

  She lifted her head so her eyes locked with his. ‘Then here’s our chance. I told you before,’ she went on, her voice ragged because of the pain that gripped her, ‘I don’t think I should continue this search. I don’t want to know who Katy’s father is!’

  He broke in then, his voice harsh. ‘And I’ve told you, it’s not a matter now of mere curiosity. This man could claim Katy as his child. That’s why it’s so important that our betrothal stands, that we appear in public together, that you have the public approval of figures in society like Lord Conistone and his wife. I thought you understood all this!’

  She put her hand to her forehead. ‘For how long must this pretence go on?’ This torment? she added silently to herself.

  ‘The end might just come sooner than we think.’ His voice was abrupt. ‘In the meantime, we must keep up appearances. That’s what I’ve come to tell you. We have been invited to a ball at Lord Stokesay’s in three days’ time, along with Lucas and Verena.’

  ‘Do I have to endure it?’

  His jaw clenched. ‘We must make this betrothal convincing. We must proclaim to the world that you are under my protection. For I have sworn to keep you and Katy safe, and I’ve no intention of breaking my word.’

  Hateful though it was to him, thought Rosalie in despair. He might as well have said that. His eyes said it, his curt nod. His back as he turned to leave her. And after he’d gone Rosalie felt as alone, as full of despair as she’d ever been in her life.

  Alec rode back to Two Crows Castle that night, the blood thundering in his ears. You fool. You colossal fool. Wouldn’t it be better to tell her everything?

  No. Because then Alec would have to tell her about—Susanna. And the crisis was at hand, anyway, for Alec had learned today, from his loyal men of Two Crows Castle, that Stephen was preparing his own desperate attempt to get his revenge on Alec. An attempt in which the child would be the innocent pawn.

  ‘Try on this one, dear Rosalie! Yes, the lilac silk. Oh, you look adorable in that colour!’

  ‘Do you really think so?’ Rosalie touched the exquisite gown with trepidation. Verena’s dressmaker had arrived earlier at the Mayfair mansion with a range of gowns for her to choose from and Rosalie was overwhelmed. She had never worn anything as fine as this, ever.

  ‘It looks wonderful on you!’ declared Verena, laughing. ‘I grew up with three sisters and a vain mama forever fretting about fashion, so believe me, I know what I’m talking about!’

  It was four in the afternoon, on the day of Lord Stokesay’s ball. The children had gone on an excursion to St James’s Park to feed the ducks; Rosalie had demurred a little, hating to let Katy outside the safe haven of Lord Conistone’s house.

  But Lucas Conistone had strolled in then and said, in his elegant drawl, ‘You don’t think I’d be lax about the safety of my own children, do you, Mrs Rowland?’

  ‘No. Of course not, my lord.’ Rosalie hung her head.

  ‘Your anxiety is understandable, my dear,’ Lucas said more gently. ‘But Alec has everything in hand, believe me. You must trust him.’ Then he added, quietly, ‘I always have.’

  Perhaps she was the one who was untrustworthy, because earlier that morning she’d lied again, or at least omitted a rather crucial truth, by asking Verena if she could borrow one of the footmen to accompany her into the city. ‘I have a small business affair to attend to,’ she’d explained.

  A letter had arrived for her while she was breakfasting with Verena. It was from Hathersleighs’ bank in Seething Lane, requesting that she visit them at her earliest convenience. Verena had insisted that she make her journey in Lord Conistone’s coach, with three of his men in attendance.

  When Rosalie had returned, she’d found Verena arranging flowers in the drawing room. ‘Is everything all right, my dear?’

  ‘Indeed.’ Rosalie had forced a smile. ‘Thank you.’

  But everything had changed. At the bank they’d told her the exact size of her inheritance. Once all the details were settled, and suitable investments made, she would be able to lead an independent life, with Katy. Without Alec.

  But an iron fist squeezed at the core of her being at the thought of never seeing him again.

  Meanwhile, Lord Stokesay’s ball loomed large. ‘You can borrow my cream pelisse to wear over that gown tonight, my dear Rosalie,’ Verena was chattering on happily. ‘The lilac suits your colouring so well, I declare you will set a new fashion!’

  ‘No one will notice me, surely!’

  ‘You underestimate yourself,’ said Verena softly. ‘You look beautiful. Do you know, you’re about the same size and height as my youngest sister, Izzy,’ she went on, smoothing down the ruffles on Rosalie’s dress, ‘who drove all her suitors mad during her first Season, since she fell in love with someone new once a week at least!’

  Rosalie tried to pull herself together and return Verena’s warmth. ‘Did you meet Lucas during your first Season?’ she asked shyly.

  ‘Oh, Lucas’s estate bordered ours, in Hampshire.’ Verena’s eyes softened with what was almost adoration. ‘I never needed a Season. I think I always knew he was the one for me.’

  Rosalie felt her heart constrict. It had been the same with Alec. The minute she saw him, standing at the back of the hall in Dr Barnard’s stupid show, she’d known.

  But since then everything had gone so terribly wrong.

  ‘Of course,’ Verena went on, putting the muslin pelisse aside and adjusting a trailing cream ribbon on Rosalie’s sleeve,
‘my sisters and I knew Alec, as well, because he was Lucas’s best friend. We all adored him; in fact, my youngest sister, Izzy, suffered several months of being utterly in love with him, until he kindly made it plain she was not the one for him. Dear Alec! You know, he could have made a good career for himself in the War Office, but instead he chooses to champion the cause of the poor soldiers.’

  Verena continued to sing Alec’s praises, talking about his heroism in battle and how respected he was by officers and men alike. She meant well. The lilac gown, Verena enthused, was the one and Rosalie agreed just to please her kind hostess, for her heart had gone out of the topic of ballgowns altogether. The dressmaker was called upstairs to take in the waistline. ‘Madame has such an exquisite figure!’ she exclaimed over Rosalie as she got out her tape measure.

  There was then much fussing over the gauze overgown and the elbow-length kid gloves. Rosalie was glad when it was all over. She wanted to go back to her room, to gather up her courage to appear in public as Alec’s betrothed, when she knew he was doing this out of a sense of duty. When she knew that he would never love her.

  And then she heard the noise out in the cobbled courtyard that adjoined Lucas’s stables.

  Horsemen must be riding up, a dozen of them at least; as she ran to the window she saw they surrounded the open barouche just drawing in from the roadway, in which sat Katy and Verena’s children, with their nursemaids. She saw that Alec was amongst the riders and was already dismounting from his horse, while talking rapidly to Garrett. Alec held a cloth to his right temple, from which a scarlet stain was spreading.

  Something had happened. Her heart stopped. What had Alec said to her? ‘The end might just come sooner than we think …’

  Rosalie had already gathered up her lilac-silk skirts and was running, running downstairs, with Verena hurrying after her.

  Katy.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Alec had lifted Katy from the carriage and was holding her tight in his arms. Garrett and the rest of the men—some of them Alec’s, some Lucas’s—were talking in muttered voices as they saw to the horses.

  A quiet trip to the Park?

  She didn’t think so.

  Rosalie hurried across to Alec. ‘What has happened?’ she breathed.

  She reached for Katy, but Alec shook his head. ‘Let Katy go with Verena and the children,’ he mouthed to Rosalie over Katy’s head. ‘You’re frightening her. She doesn’t even realise anything’s wrong.’

  By now Rosalie was terrified. Verena had come up and reluctantly Rosalie saw Alec pass Katy to her. Rosalie turned back to Alec, her heart thudding. He’d put his handkerchief to his temple again; it was still bleeding. ‘Are you going to explain, Captain Stewart?’

  ‘An attempt was made to kidnap Katy.’

  A sharp pain clamped her ribs. ‘You promised me she would be safe!’

  ‘And so she was.’ His tone was curt. ‘We were expecting the attempt, you see. We let it be known that the children were going to the Park, with just two nursemaids.’

  ‘You—encouraged this?’

  He looked around. By now the courtyard was empty except for them. ‘We set up a trap,’ he said. ‘It’s not as crude as it sounds. As well as myself and Lucas, at least a dozen of Lucas’s and my men were within fifty yards of the children all the time in the Park—posing as passers-by, horsemen, whatever was necessary. The minute that Katy’s would-be kidnappers started moving towards her, our men were on to them. The children were not even aware of it.’

  ‘Who were they?’

  ‘There were four of them and they’re being questioned at the Queen Street police office right now. But I already know whose pay they were in.’ He tensed his muscles. Looked at her steadily. ‘It was news I was prepared for, I’m afraid. The would-be kidnapper was my brother, Lord Stephen Maybury.’

  Her first emotion was incredulity. For a moment the world seemed to stop. But already she was starting to realise what she should have realised a long time ago. And now the truth of it all—the terrible truth—punched the air from her lungs like an iron fist. ‘Oh, no,’ she breathed. ‘You mean—Lord Maybury and—Linette …’

  He’d clenched his hands. ‘I know what you’re going to say—I should have told you. But if I had, you’d have tackled him head on, wouldn’t you? And he’s dangerous, believe me.’ Already he was helping her towards a bench, where she sat down, her brain reeling. Yet it was all becoming dreadfully clear.

  ‘So Stephen found me deliberately at the Temple of Beauty, and at the poetry reading.’ She looked up at Alec. ‘Oh, I walked straight into his hands.’

  ‘Yes. And once he knew that I knew, Stephen became extremely frightened that I would expose his brutality to your sister. But I just wanted Katy—and you—to be safe. When Stephen heard that you and I were betrothed, I think he resolved—in sheer desperation—to try to kidnap Katy. As a hostage? For revenge on me?’ His face was grim. ‘Fortunately, someone …’ he hesitated a fraction ‘… let me know that he intended to use Katy in his plans. So I decided there was only one way to put an end to his dangerous mischief. To lay a trap.’

  Sickness pooled coldly in her stomach. ‘The poetry recital—I was so stupid. I should have guessed …’

  ‘How could you? My brother’s good at deception—thanks to years of practice,’ said Alec curtly. ‘So far he’s got away with his iniquities. But not for much longer. Rosalie, if you can bear it, I think it best if we continue as though nothing has happened, because I want to know how Stephen will react to the arrest of his men.’

  ‘Will he be charged?’

  ‘I imagine he’ll have done everything through a third party, just as he did with the threats, and the reward for you. But he’ll know that I know.’ He turned to her. ‘If you’re sure you can face it, we’ll still go together to Lord Stokesay’s tonight as planned. Being with me is your best defence, much as you may hate it.’

  She heaved in a tight breath. Alec had done all this, regardless of the gulf it would doubtless widen between him and his already estranged family. For Katy. For her. Why? Simply because of his overpowering sense of justice. His integrity. How she’d misjudged him. A leaden weight seemed to be crushing her shoulders.

  Be sensible. Be practical. ‘Alec,’ she asked calmly, ‘how, when the time comes, will we break off this—betrothal?’

  Some impenetrable emotion flickered across Alec’s face. ‘It will be up to you, of course. You can think of what’s appropriate—for example, that we’ve decided we’re ill suited. I believe that’s a common enough reason.’

  Ill suited. Dear God, she hadn’t thought so when she was in his arms. When he was making passionate love to her. But that had been a wild stupid dream.

  Somehow Rosalie swallowed down the ache that squeezed her throat. ‘Of course. Oh, Alec, that cut to your forehead, it’s still bleeding, here, have my clean handkerchief …’ She pushed it towards him, hoping he wouldn’t notice how her hand shook. ‘Your poor face, what happened?’

  ‘That?’ He dabbed with the handkerchief. ‘I had one of Stephen’s brutes cornered. He managed a punch before I felled him.’

  She tried to joke. ‘Clearly you needed me there. I came to your aid at the Temple of Beauty, didn’t I?’

  ‘Swinging that little table at them.’ He smiled back and her heart shook. She hurried to rinse her handkerchief at the nearby pump and came back to bathe the cut, fussing over him. This was probably the closest she would ever get to him again. Tenderly she pushed back his dark hair from his forehead, aware of the warmth of his skin beneath her fingers, the strength of him, so close to her, yet so impossibly distant.

  ‘You must keep my handkerchief until you can get a proper bandage on it.’ She was blinking the stupid tears back from her eyes even as she placed it tenderly across his temple. ‘There!’ she said brightly. ‘You look fit for anything now, even a ball, Captain Stewart!’

  He stood up and gazed down at her. ‘Is that the gown you’ll be wearing to
night?’

  ‘I—yes, it is.’ She faltered. ‘Is it all right, Alec?’

  ‘More than that,’ he said. His face was suddenly grave. ‘You look exquisite.’

  She stared at him, her heart pounding as she searched for words that wouldn’t come. ‘Ridiculous man,’ she uttered lightly. But inside something was breaking.

  ‘I must go and change my clothes,’ Alec said, then hesitated. Touched her cheek, with fingers that lingered. ‘Rosalie. Oh, Rosalie. I don’t think you’ll ever know how much I wish that things could have been different.’

  Then he was gone.

  It took her a little while to realise that Verena had come to lead her back into the house.

  ‘I don’t think I’ve ruined the gown,’ Rosalie said somehow. ‘But it was a close thing …’ She fought the sudden sting of tears.

  Verena took her hand. ‘I told you that you should trust Alec,’ she said, squeezing it warmly. ‘Lucas and I do.’

  Rosalie nodded blindly. But she hadn’t. She hadn’t, and that had been her utter downfall.

  It was early evening and Rosalie was alone in her room. She’d had her bath and the servants had gone. She was wearing a cream silk wrap Verena had lent her; the lilac gown lay ready for her on the bed.

  She hated it now. It seemed a symbol of all she had lost.