Soldier of Fortune: The King's Courtesan (Rakes and Rogues of the Retoration Book 2)

by James, Judith

  “I see you have found her, my lord. I tried to tell her about keeping that creature but she would not listen and—”

  “Mrs. Overton, you have forgotten to knock. My wife and I are speaking. In future, please remember that you are the servant here and she is the mistress. It is not her place to listen to you, it is yours to listen to her. When it comes to the household you shall take Lady Newport’s word as mine. You will see this is understood by all members of the staff. Have I made myself clear?”

  “Yes. Yes, my lord, my lady.” Red-faced and stammering Mrs. Overton curtsied to them both and hurried from the room.

  “Well! There’s that taken care of.”

  Hope found herself wincing in unexpected sympathy. “Oh, dear. Perhaps that was just a bit harsh.”

  “Was it, damn it? I’ve no clue when it comes to these matters. One never has to worry about such things with soldiers. I swear I’ve yet to see one of them run away in tears. Now…in fairness to Mrs. Overton, I have to ask...did you threaten to punch her?”

  Hope gave him an innocent look. “I most certainly did not!”

  “How curious. Why would she say such a thing?”

  “Perhaps she can’t hold her drink. My mother was much the same.”

  “Perhaps. Are you certain you said nothing to her?”

  She shrugged, and then kissed her kitten’s pretty head. “She did accuse me of being Hope Mathews. All I did was agree, and promise her that some of the stories she’d heard, like the one about Orange Moll, were true.”

  “She accused you of being Hope Mathews?”

  “Yes. An evil courtesan bent on no good and the like. I told her I was your wife but she refused to believe it. I daresay she meant to protect you from my wicked influence and—” She turned crimson as she realized what she was saying.

  “Ahem…” He cleared his throat. “Yes, well…I am sorry. That was my fault. I should have made it clear you were to be respected and obeyed from the beginning. I should have listened when you said there was a problem. I hope that it is rectified now. What did you do to Orange Moll?”

  “She is six foot tall and I knocked her flat,” Hope said with a wicked grin.

  His rich laughter echoed through the halls of Cressly for the first time in years.

  “You are an evil wench, Hope Nichols” he said when he had caught his breath. The picture of his tiny guest flooring the fearsome Mrs. Overton with one punch left him with a rueful grin. He didn’t doubt she could do it. It was another thing to add to the growing list of images that crowded his brain whenever she came to mind. “As a consequence, I am placing the entire mess in your hands. If you insist on upsetting my household the responsibility to deal with it shall be yours. I expect this will mean that these foolish dramas will no longer wash up at my door.”

  “And what of outdoors? Who do I speak to about the gardens and such?”

  “Oakes, I suppose, but that needn’t concern you.”

  “Perhaps he can tell me who might repair the fountain in the hidden garden. And there’s so much work that needs to be done outside.”

  “No! I don’t want you tearing up the gardens.”

  “I don’t want to tear them up. Just weeding and trimming and tidying and such.”

  “There are gardeners for that.”

  “It hardly seems so. It should be a cheerful place yet it’s sad and neglected. I have many ideas you know. I had many a talk with John Rose. He is the royal gardener and a botanist of great renown. He is experimenting with growing pineapples. Have you ever tasted—”

  “Leave the gardens alone for now. If you grow bored there are other things you can do. The library is there any time you want it, the stables as well, and if you wish, you can take a carriage to Nottingham for shopping.”

  “What? I can shop?”

  “Yes, of course. It’s hardly what you’re used to and the roads are rutted, but if you wish to shop then by all means do so. You will wait until Oakes has returned and take a complement of armed men with you, though.”

  “You’ll not accompany me?”

  Was that a hint of wistfulness in her voice? Theirs was a complicated situation but despite their differences and misunderstandings it pleased him to think so. Up until now she had been wary, defensive and mistrustful and he certainly couldn’t blame her for that. Her quiet but determined campaign to stake a claim to the house showed she was a fighter—a thing he admired. But in those quiet moments when she lowered her guard he glimpsed something that intrigued and fascinated, too.

  “Captain?”

  “What? Oh, I’m sorry, no. It’s not possible right now. There are important matters I must take care of in London. I will leave by week’s end and expect to be gone a fortnight or so.”

  Hope felt a surprising sense of disappointment. Just when she was warming to him he was preparing to go. She remembered their brief truce in Nottingham, and how his smiles and charm had heated her blood. I want to know this man. I want to know him as a lover, and I want to know him as a friend.

  “I…what should I shop for?”

  “I’d never thought to hear a woman ask that!” He pulled a velvet pouch from under his shirt. “When your carriage came from London it came with this. Here are twenty gold sovereigns. They belong to you. You also have two thousand pounds deposited with a London goldsmith. The papers are in a drawer in my study and I’ve made you a key.”

  “It’s—”

  “Your savings. Yes. Do what you will with it, but don’t spend it on the house. His Majesty gifted us ten thousand pounds when we married. If you want to decorate and claim the place, or if you see a need, use that. Just put it on my account.”

  “You would trust me with it?” So that is what Charles saw as my worth. More than any whore, but less than Castlemaine’s necklace. She felt a twinge of annoyance, but it didn’t sting as it might have before.

  “You supervised a large town house and staff in Pall Mall. It appeared well-managed and tasteful. I’m sure you know more about such things than I do. You don’t have to, Hope.”

  “No! I do! I will. You may rely on it.”

  It pleases me to see her smile. “Good. I have but two conditions. Leave the gardens be and no mirrors, unless they be for your own room.”

  “No mirrors?”

  “Having visited your home, it’s clear you can’t be trusted in that regard.”

  “But mirrors add light and warmth to a house, Captain Nichols, which is something your home badly needs. They bring—”

  “Call me Robert. Please. Mirror upon mirror encircling a man makes him feel dizzy and ill. When first I met you, I feared I was going to spew.”

  “That was why you looked so annoyed? I thought you were glaring at me!”

  “God no!” he said with a chuckle. “You couldn’t be further from the mark. Despite what you might think of me, I’m not in the habit of grimacing at beautiful women. At least not on purpose.”

  He stood up and offered her his hand. “The hour grows late and I’ve still much to do. Will you join me later for supper?”

  “I look forward to it,” she said with a brilliant smile. “Robert?”

  “Yes?”

  His body was almost touching her. She could feel it like a warm caress.

  “I….” What to say? That she was sorry for seducing him? She wasn’t. All she could think of was doing it again. “I’ve blamed you for things that weren’t your fault, and I regret it. I said some things the other night, but despite our differences I know they aren’t true. You are an honorable man, or at least you have been so with me.”

  He gave her a deep bow. “I have done the same, madam, to you. I thought you part of Charles’ scheme and resented you for it, as much as I resented myself for saying yes. I shall do my best to make you feel at home here as I should have from the start.”

  “Thank you, my lord. Perhaps, on your return from London we might start anew. I should like us to be friends.”

  His smile was warm as he bent
to kiss her hand. The touch of his lips sent a shiver up her spine. What would it be like to make sweet love with this man? With no anger or hurt or reason beyond wanting. What would it be like to love someone who cared?

  “I promise you, I should like that, too.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  London

  Robert Nichols’ return to London was a good deal more circumspect then his last visit had been. He wore nondescript clothing and kept the brim of his hat pulled low over his eyes. It wasn’t easy hiding his height but seated men all looked the same when hunched over a table. He had arrived in the city just in time to watch the new queen’s procession from Hampton Court to Whitehall. Gliding down the Thames on a gilded barge surrounded by a grand flotilla, she and her train of black-clad monks and stern-faced ladies looked like a flock of starlings let loose amidst the peacocks.

  He had felt a stab of pity. Confessors and duennas and somber dress would only bring her ridicule here. Even as he had watched, a smiling Lady Castlemaine stood among the king’s friends and retainers, draped in more jewels than the queen and the Duchess of York together. He wondered what Hope would have thought to see it all. She’d be inclined to sympathy. His musings reminded him that she, too, belonged to the king. They say he feels no jealousy, but I do. I should never have allowed the other night to happen. Any man would want her, but I didn’t expect to like her so much.

  In truth, their talk had gone much better than he’d anticipated. She really didn’t seem that hard to please. Common courtesy, a little respect, her Irish maid and a kitten. It was a small enough price to see her smile. When she smiled everything lit up, even her surroundings. Her face glowed, her eyes shone with excitement and she awakened things inside him he’d long thought dead. I wish I could have stayed to take her back to Nottingham.

  He’d certainly enjoyed their first visit…for the most part. Watching her spinning glass, her thrill at the tales surrounding the city and Sherwood Forest…he’d never really understood how their argument had begun. Somehow he’d offended her and she’d offended him.

  “I will tell you how many men I have fucked if you tell me how many you have killed.”

  Ah, yes. There was that. Three, she’d said. It was shocking only for its moderation. But she’d be shocked if she knew the answer to the question she’d asked of him, or if she knew what he did in London now, sitting in this Russell Street coffee house with its stink of tobacco and frantic bustle of over stimulated fools—waiting for William de Veres.

  Robert disliked asking help from any man, particularly regarding a matter of personal honor, but it was a necessary evil. This wasn’t only about vengeance or redemption. For the first time in a long time there was something to protect. Harris was dangerous and he had disappeared. So…highwayman, courier, spy, whatever de Veres’ previous hobbies, hopefully he had something of note to impart—because after two fruitless weeks of inquiries, all Robert wanted was to be done with his business and go home.

  A buzz of excited conversation drew his attention. He put down his drink and looked to the entrance as a tall, elegant-looking gentlemen strode through the door. De Veres doffed a rakish feathered hat and bowed to the room, exchanging a few sallies and nodding politely to a beefy mutton-chopped gentleman who stood near the door. Robert recognized him as Joshua Greathead, a country squire who had fought in the civil war under Cromwell and had also led a company of his own. He wondered what acquaintance he might have with de Veres as the king’s favorite poet sauntered over to join him in the corner.

  “Good evening, Lord Newport.” The poet rested his booted feet upon the table and folded his hands across his lap. “My, what a great big sword you’ve got. It’s hard to believe the lovely Drury Lane angel could have tired of you so soon after seeing that. Or won’t you let her touch it?”

  “Call me Captain Nichols…or Robert if you must. One hopes you’re not as foppish as you look. My enemies fight with swords, de Veres, not words.”

  William grinned in appreciation.

  “On men disarmed how can one gallant prove?

  And I was long ago disarmed by love.”

  “For God's sake, man. Must you speak in rhyme? It grows damned annoying.”

  “My apologies, Captain, if my flights of fancy tax your brain.”

  “You sent me a message to meet you here, Lord Rivers. Why?”

  “You made enquiries about Lord Harris. Why?”

  Robert leaned back in his chair drawing lazy circles on the battered tabletop with his finger and didn’t answer.

  “Perhaps Lizzy is right and I may grow to like you. You could certainly use some friends. You have many enemies, Captain. It’s very hard to fathom given your gentle nature. Fortunately for you I am adept with pen and sword. I know you dislike me but I do love Lizzy and I did so long before you knew her. If I endangered her it was by accident and I cannot regret it for it brought us together again. You kept her safe and cared for her when I couldn’t. I know you did it for her and not for me, but I am indebted to you, nonetheless. I sent you a message because I thought you should know that Lord Harris has been making enquiries about you.”

  Robert’s hand stilled, and he lifted his head to look William straight in the eyes. “That’s interesting.”

  “I thought so.”

  “What do you know of him?” Robert’s tone was mild.

  “He is sadistic, vicious, a murderer, but a dab hand at racing and cards. He calls himself Colonel, though he was cashiered from the army a decade ago. He’s been twice charged with rape, and once with assault, though he’s scampered away unscathed from each charge.”

  I should have killed him years ago. Who else has he harmed because of my failure? “Is there some reason Charles would want to reward him?”

  “Perhaps. I’m not as close to His Majesty as I once was. Charles is rather indolent when it comes to paperwork. The devil is in the details. Literally in this case. I doubt he knows anything about the man’s crimes or he’d never be welcomed at court. Harris is wealthy, owns several brothels and has vast properties in Lancashire and Scotland. He’s well connected and well protected as he’s owed significant sums of money by significant men. He has made several generous contributions to His Majesty’s cause. What’s really curious is why he should have any interest in you.”

  Robert nodded, unaware his fingers stroked the hilt of his sword. “You’ve been very helpful, Lord Rivers. You have my thanks. Do you know where I might find him?”

  “Again, I ask why?”

  “I have business of a private nature with him, and it seems he also has business with me.”

  “There can be no good business with him, Nichols.” William eyed Robert’s sword pointedly. “And the king is dead set against dueling. You have your lands and you have the king’s gratitude and goodwill. And the girl…she is charming, is she not?”

  Robert gave him a sharp look.

  “Mmm. Yes, I thought so. I refer, of course, to her winning nature. She was far too selective and over-chaste to make a convincing courtesan. You have stumbled upon a prize there, Captain. If there is something personal between you and Harris I suggest you let it go and enjoy the bounty fate has sent you lest you anger our dear Charles and lose it all.”

  Elizabeth trusts this man. “There is something very personal between us, Rivers. A debt that must be paid. Even if I wished to let it go, I cannot. I spent years tracking him only to lose him in Europe. Now he is back and a danger to me and mine. It was he who was meant to have Cressly. He asked the king for it specifically. He can’t be sure I know it was him. He can’t be sure I know he’s back. I need to put him dow—I need to deal with him before he does.”

  William smiled and leaned back in his chair. “Lizzy made me promise to act with discretion and maturity and to try and dissuade you from impulsive acts. You are my witness that I did. But intrigue, espionage, danger…I am married, Captain, not dead.”

  “You discussed my message to you with Elizabeth?”

 
“Of course I did. I tell her everything. There is nothing you can do at the moment. Your quarry is in Scotland, surrounded by armed men. He left right after you did, supposedly to raise monies for His Majesty’s ambitions abroad. By the time you reach his holdings he’ll likely be on his way back to London. Go home. Be patient. I will be your eyes and ears. Rest assured I’ll keep you informed of all you need to know and help in any way I can.”

  “I thank you for the offer, de Veres….” Pride, one of his staunchest allies over the years, made a halfhearted effort to refuse, but it was no match for a sudden vision of a sooty-faced enchantress. It was his duty to take care of her after all. A thing he could hardly do from miles away. “Your help is much appreciated. And please, give Elizabeth my best regards.”

  “De rien, Captain. I always pay my debts. Besides, it should prove entertaining.”

  Robert set out for home with a sense of anticipation he hadn’t felt in years. For the first time in a long time it felt like there was something to go home to.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Cressly Manor

  “‘One magpie for sorrow,

  Two for mirth,

  Three for a wedding,

  Four for a birth.’

  “Me ma taught me that one,” Lucy said proudly. “Magpies know things.”

  “Everyone’s mother told them that,” Patience said with a disdainful sniff.

  “Well, I’ve never heard it before.” Hope stood, her head crooked to one side as two of Sergeants Oakes’ rather burly footmen repositioned a painting yet again. “I wish I’d known that before my wedding.”

  Everyone laughed, even Mrs. Overton who couldn’t help but add, “The master is a good man. Magpies three was good luck for you, my lady.”

  There was a thirst among the staff to bring the neglected house back to life. Underneath the humming and singing, laughter and joking, there was pride. For the past few weeks since she’d returned from her shopping all the staff had lent a hand. Day by day, in remarkably short order, the house took on a new life. Plaster walls were whitewashed, panels and floors polished, and light streamed through windows and danced along the halls.