“Lady Louisa, would you do me the honor of a dance?”
“Of course.” Why did he have to ask now when her ability to resist him had been reduced even more?
She took his arm, ignoring her breathlessness as he escorted her to the dance floor. She risked a glance at him from under her lashes, wondering who he really was. The rogue that his reputation suggested or someone quite different?
“Are you enjoying the ball?” he asked as they lined up with the other dancers for the cotillion.
She hesitated. In truth, she hadn’t been until now. Conversing with Benjamin was a completely different experience than talking to the viscount. They were both men, but that seemed to be the only similarity.
“The evening has been...interesting.”
They went through the moves of the dance, their gazes catching as they turned this way and that. She felt as if the rest of the dancers fell away, leaving the two of them to move in time to the music. She didn’t pretend to understand what was happening, nor did she like it. Benjamin was an unpredictable man with a dangerous reputation. But he was a more enjoyable companion than the viscount or any other man she’d met thus far.
With a sigh, she released her indecision for the moment. Surely she could enjoy this dance without worrying about the days to come. Once the mental barrier she’d placed between them had been removed, she began to notice the little things.
The feel of his strong fingers as they so gently brushed hers.
The breadth of his shoulders as he turned.
The hint of a smile that quirked the corner of his mouth.
His dark eyes that held on her as if they shared a secret.
Awareness caused her middle to perform dance steps of its own. Though she’d performed the cotillion more times than she could count, something felt different this time, and it was all because of Benjamin.
“Thank you,” she said as the music faded.
“The honor is mine.” He offered his elbow and escorted her to where her cousins still visited, gave a polite bow, and bid them a good evening.
“Well?” Annabelle asked.
“He is an excellent dancer.” Louisa looked over the crowd for her mother. Anything to avoid meeting her cousin’s curious gaze.
“I would guess he’s excellent at many things.” Annabelle smiled.
Louisa felt heat in her cheeks but didn’t respond. She had no doubt her cousin spoke the truth. But Louisa had yet to decide what to do about it.
“I’m so pleased about Granger’s idea of a charity for wounded soldiers,” Caroline said. Her sympathetic glance at Louisa suggested she’d changed the topic to spare her more of Annabelle’s comments.
“To think he gained Delham’s support.” Annabelle shook her head. “The marquess is known to be tighter with funds than most spinster aunts.”
“So many families have been affected by the war,” Caroline said as she shared a look with her sister. “We have distant family members who could use assistance.”
Louisa knew Caroline had hoped to make a good marriage in order to save her family’s finances. Her father’s failing health had put them on the brink of disaster. Louisa’s mother had offered assistance, but Caroline and her mother had refused, pinning their hopes on a good match to sustain them for the long term. It had come as a surprise to Caroline to discover Aberland had substantial wealth.
Louisa was grateful not to carry the burden of needing to marry for money, but she intended to take great care to ignore her passionate nature. For that would surely land her in trouble.
~*~
“This should be a good beginning,” Delham said as he handed Benjamin a list.
Benjamin had spent the past three days in various meetings, many of which had been with Delham. Planning for the charity for wounded soldiers was well underway. He’d stopped by the marquess’s home to pick up the list of lords that Delham believed would be interested in joining the cause.
“This is quite an extensive list.” The number of names surprised him.
“Those with a mark beside them are ones with whom I have already spoken. The rest you’ll have to approach but feel free to use my name.”
Benjamin couldn’t have been more pleased. During his travels as a spy, he’d seen many wounded men with little hope in their eyes. If he could do anything to alleviate their continued suffering, he would. He’d readily admit that one of the reasons he wanted to start this charity was to assuage his own guilt at not having served in the war himself.
Spying had been dangerous at times, but he’d never been shot. Aberland had continually told him that he saved more lives than he realized with the information he provided, but he still detested the fact that he hadn’t been beside his fellow countrymen on the battlefield.
“I’ll contact each person and let them know the date of our first meeting. I’m hoping that by holding it the week before Christmas, many will be in a generous spirit.”
Delham chuckled. “Quite clever of you.” A commotion from the entrance stopped him from saying more. “What on earth?”
The library door flew open as he rose. His wife stood in the doorway, eyes wild as she clenched a letter in trembling hands.
“What has happened?” Delham asked.
The marchioness’s gaze landed briefly on Benjamin, yet he didn’t think she truly saw him.
“I am ruined.” She blinked back tears as she started to sob.
Benjamin rose, alarmed at the sight. “I’ll go.”
But the marquess waved his hand, whether to silence him or suggest he remain where he was, Benjamin wasn’t sure. He waited to see if Delham offered another clue.
The man put an arm around his wife’s shoulders gingerly as though not used to offering comfort or affection. “What are you speaking about?”
“This!” she exclaimed as she handed him the letter.
Delham’s face turned white as he read the contents. Without a glance at Benjamin, he herded his wife out of the room and pulled the door closed.
Benjamin waited, wishing he’d been able to escape. When voices echoed in the entrance, he realized the marquess hadn’t shut the door. The marchioness’s hysterical tone was clearly audible. He stepped forward to close the door, preferring not to bear witness to whatever catastrophe had found the marchioness.
“Yes, I allowed him to paint me in the nude,” she said in a shrill voice that carried clearly to Benjamin’s ears. “At least he showed interest in me. You certainly do not.”
The marquess’s angry response was too quiet to hear, much to Benjamin’s relief.
“He says he’ll show that portrait to everyone if we don’t pay the money he’s demanding.” Another murmured response from the marquess was followed by more shrill words from his wife. “He is French. Yes, I know you detest all things French. Why do you think I chose him?”
Benjamin shut the door as quietly as possible, not wanting to reveal his presence or interrupt the pair. He heard voices briefly before they faded. Apparently, Delham had convinced his wife to take their conversation to a more private location.
Benjamin hesitated. If Delham didn’t return soon, he’d leave. If only he could un-hear their conversation. To think the marchioness had allowed a Frenchman to paint her portrait in the nude was shocking. To learn the artist had decided to use it against her was even more disturbing.
The fact that the marquess had been the one who’d cautioned him against Louisa and her mother was nearly laughable now. Obviously, the man needed to keep an eye on things closer to home.
When several minutes had gone by without the lord’s return, Benjamin let himself out, telling the butler that he had to leave for another appointment. Delham would have to trust that Benjamin would keep the terrible situation to himself. He had no intention of telling anyone.
Chapter Six
Benjamin arrived at the Portland ball that evening with the hope of conversing with several of the men on Delham’s list. At least, he told himself that was the reason he
attended. In truth, he hoped Louisa would be there. If given a chance, he would very much enjoy another dance with her.
Her zest for life and occasional disregard for proper behavior might have initially caught his interest, but her intelligence, protectiveness of her mother, and her wit had kept his attention. Added to that was her beauty, grace, and a confidence rarely shown by younger women. She fascinated him in every aspect.
He smothered a sigh. He needed to take care not to single her out with his attentions. That meant dancing with a few of the other ladies in attendance, a notion he didn’t care for.
While the Season wouldn’t be underway until spring, many people were in London since Parliament was in session. Christmas would soon be upon them, and everyone appeared to be in fine spirits. They needed little excuse to host an event. The gatherings were smaller and less frequent this time of year, but that suited him. That made finding the men he wanted to speak with about funding the charity easier. It was also easier to find Louisa amongst the guests.
This evening, she wore a primrose gown with embroidery decorating the neckline and capped sleeves. Her upswept hair revealed an elegant neck and shoulders. He didn’t think he’d seen a more delectable sight. Conversing with her would have to wait until he completed the evening’s mission. With regret, he turned away to peruse the crowd and found two of the men on his list. Both were older, closer to Delham’s age than his own. Though he’d met them before, he didn’t know them well.
As Benjamin eased through the guests toward them, he wondered what solution Delham had found for his problem. Would he pay the painter for the portrait to keep his mouth shut? The options were limited, but obtaining the painting was imperative. Without it, the painter’s claim of the marchioness posing nude could be easily dismissed.
All the more reason to marry a woman who wouldn’t behave in such a manner.
“Crenshaw. Thompson. Good to see you,” Benjamin said.
“Sorry to hear of your uncle’s passing.” Crenshaw’s cravat was tied so high that he had difficulty turning his head.
“To lose them all so suddenly.” Thompson shook his head. “Terrible.”
“Thank you.” Though he preferred to come to the point, he visited on other subjects until a lull in the conversation allowed him to mention the charity.
“For wounded soldiers, eh?” Crenshaw nodded stiffly. “Fine idea.”
“Great need for it,” Thompson added.
“We’d like to invite each of you to join the endeavor. We’re in the process of gathering funding and determining the services to offer.”
“Funding. Hmm.” Thompson tapped his chin even as Crenshaw frowned.
Already Benjamin could tell they had reservations about donating money, which irritated him to no end. Both were wealthy and could spare a few pounds to help those less fortunate, especially for the soldiers who’d risked their lives to protect England. Though he was certain that with enough time, he could persuade them to join his efforts, he decided on a simpler method of convincing them.
“Delham suggested the two of you would be instrumental in assisting us in designing the charity, but if you don’t care to do so...” As a well-respected member of the ton, Delham’s name carried weight.
“Delham, you say?”
“Of course I can provide assistance,” Crenshaw said. “What of you, Thompson?”
“I’d be delighted.” Thompson nodded.
Benjamin advised them of the time and place of the meeting and asked them to invite others they deemed worthy to help spread the message about the cause. “We’re being rather selective in who we want to participate.” He nearly groaned at his own words. Not only had he used Delham’s name to gain their cooperation but suggested exclusivity to convince them to assist in the process. “Wouldn’t want just anyone involved.”
“Excellent notion.” Crenshaw patted Benjamin’s shoulder. “Need to have the right people involved.”
“We look forward to the meeting,” Thompson said.
Benjamin moved away in search of his next target, leaving Crenshaw and Thompson debating over who they wished to ask. Though he’d have preferred the need for such a charity alone to win their help, he had what he wanted. Soon, the wounded soldiers would have support, and that was all that mattered. Moments like this made him more determined to develop a reputation that caused his peers to be eager to work with him.
Before he’d taken more than a few steps, an older woman he’d met briefly at the Delham gathering stepped into his path.
“Granger, allow me the pleasure of introducing my daughter, Lady Amelia.”
Based on the woman’s determined smile, she was a matchmaking mama if he’d ever met one. Lady Amelia dipped into a curtsy only to stumble as she rose, leaving him no choice but to reach out to assist her—a deliberate move on her part, if he had to guess. He endured a dance with her then quickly returned her to her mother’s side.
He turned only to find Lady Adele and her brother, Viscount Gibbon, heir to the Earl of Mansby, nearby.
“Good evening, Gibbon. Lady Adele. I hope the evening finds you well.” He’d become acquainted with Gibbon during their university days but didn’t know him well. His younger sister seemed a timid thing based on the way her gaze focused mainly on his shoes rather than his face. He’d met her at an earlier gathering, and she’d acted much the same way then.
They conversed briefly until Benjamin could no longer ignore the hopeful glances she’d started to cast his way after a few minutes. “Might I have this dance, Lady Adele?”
“It would be my pleasure.” Her face turned an alarming shade of red as he escorted her to the dance floor.
The dance seemed to last forever though the lady seemed to enjoy it. She spoke little but met his gaze several times and stared at his shoes less frequently. He returned her to her brother then quickly excused himself.
He searched the room once more for the other man with whom he wished to speak and nearly reached him when a primrose-colored gown a short distance away caught his eye. Louisa. A footman leaned close to tell her something, and her face paled. Had she been given bad news? He changed his course to discover if she needed assistance.
“Lady Louisa.” Aware of numerous people watching, he bowed, smiling politely as she curtsied. “Is something amiss?”
“How do you mean?” She blinked up at him, distress evident in the depths of her eyes.
“I would help if I could.” He spoke quietly and smoothed out his expression to keep from appearing overly concerned. That would only garner more attention.
“I-I received a rather disturbing message. From my mother.” She closed her eyes briefly then forced a smile as she opened them. “’Tis nothing.”
“You are a poor liar.”
She appeared taken aback by his words before her concerned expression eased. “I would prefer to think you’re especially observant.”
“I have come to know you well in a short time.” He knew that to be true, though he’d prefer not to share how much she held his thoughts.
The hint of vulnerability in her face had him catching his breath. Why did he feel as if he’d be willing to do anything to aid her? They were little more than strangers. Strangers who’d kissed. But he realized what lengths he was willing to go to if she asked. His chest tightened at the thought.
“I appreciate your concern, but it’s nothing.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t believe you.”
“Unfortunate for you or me?” Her gaze held his, and he could all but see her internal debate on whether to trust him with the issue.
“Perhaps both of us.” He held his silence certain that if he pressed her, she’d retreat.
Louisa glanced about as if to make sure no one could hear their conversation. “My mother has become involved with someone whom I fear is not in her best interest.”
“There seems to be much of that in the air,” he muttered, his thoughts on the Marchioness of Delham. “Tell me the man isn’t a
n artist.”
Her eyes widened in alarm. “How could you have possibly known that?”
“Hmm. If it happens to be the same person I recently heard about, you should definitely be concerned.”
~*~
Louisa stared at Benjamin in disbelief. How could he possibly know anything about the man with whom her mother had become enamored? Yet she well remembered the uncomfortable feeling that had overcome her when her mother first told her of the painter. Did she dare trust Benjamin with the details?
The grim set to his mouth suggested he believed her mother was in danger. He might have a rogue’s reputation, but he’d already proven himself by not only returning her mother’s letters but by keeping the situation private.
“She sent a message with the footman that she’s gone to see him, and I shouldn’t expect her home until the morrow.”
His brows rose in surprise. “That is quite a significant message for a servant to deliver. Especially a servant in someone else’s employ.”
“He didn’t say those exact words. We’ve established a code of sorts.” The footman had said her mother looked forward to breakfast, and Louisa knew what that meant. This wasn’t the first time her mother had requested a servant to deliver news she didn’t want to share herself. Louisa knew it was because she didn’t want to argue or listen to the reasons her plan was a poor one.
Benjamin nodded. “Do you happen to know where this person lives?”
“No, I don’t.” The faint flicker of hope Louisa held snuffed out. How silly of her to think Benjamin could aid her with the limited information she had.
“Then we shall have to discover it on our own. Hopefully, we can do so before any harm befalls her.” He tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow and moved slowly toward the entrance.
“Harm?” Panic fluttered through her.
“We must find her as quickly as possible before she wades into even worse circumstances.”
“I don’t understand.” Perhaps her worry over her mother was making her dim, but Benjamin’s words didn’t make sense.
A Rogue's Reputation (The Rogue Chronicles Book 2) Page 5