The Rake and the Recluse REDUX (a time travel romance)

by Jenn LeBlanc

  “No— I cannot, I couldn’t bear to—”

  “You cannot bear— Perry.” Maebh carefully reached out and took his hand in hers. “What is best for her?”

  He’d done his level best to convince himself that he was what was best for her. He moved uncomfortably, remembering his previous words to Lilly regarding his reputation as a rake: that is who I am and what I do. His gaze shifted penitently from Maebh.

  Lilly shifted behind him, trying to hide her discomfiture. She latched onto him as she had their first night at the inn, and he softened instantly. He turned and wrapped her in the safety of his arms. Steadying her physically while also attempting to steady her nerves.

  “Hush, sweet Lilly,” he whispered into her hair.

  Maebh shifted; this wasn’t the Lilly they had met this morning. The girl was rather shy, of course, but all Maebh could see now was what appeared to be one of the most fragile beings she’d ever encountered.

  None of her family was so fragile; they were all very strong and sure. In all her experience, she’d never met someone so timid and terrified. Her upbringing hadn’t allowed for weakness of any kind, and Lilly’s fear emanated from her so powerfully it was a tangible force. Lilly’s raw need for protection and care called out to her soul, demanding shelter.

  Maebh composed herself quickly and stepped forward, but was then struck by her cousin’s strong, tall form wrapped cautiously, yet firmly, around the other woman. Perry’s demonstration with Lilly—the way he shielded her from their environment, enveloping her so carefully as to cut off all outward effects on her senses—was mystifying. Maebh could feel the calm surrounding them. She turned then and walked back to the carriage.

  “Kerrigan, fetch a hack,” she said quickly.

  “What are you about?” Saoirse asked.

  “We are going home directly, as are they are as well. However, we are to part ways here.” She glanced over her shoulder. The two figures hadn’t moved. “Calder would never allow us to run through London without an escort. I know Kerrigan to be admirable and dedicated, so he will see us home in the barouche while Perry escorts Lilly in the hack.”

  “Shouldn’t we say our goodbyes? We leave for Eildon Hill for Roxleigh’s wedding on the morrow,” said a concerned Isadore.

  “There will be no interrupting them. What is happening there—” She nudged her head toward Perry. “—is beyond anything we are prepared for. I don’t believe I ever understood the depth of his character until today. We are to leave them. He will understand, and she will be grateful. She doesn’t need us…she has what she needs.” Maebh looked away, then turned back when Kerrigan ran up.

  “Hack is ready, milady. I’ll load the barouche. Am I to see you ladies home?”

  Maebh nodded. “Thank you, Kerrigan, we’ll await you at the carriage.” She took Saoirse by the arm and approached the barouche with Isadore and Poppy following. Saoirse never looked back; she understood and trusted her sister’s words without a second thought, but that trust came from doubting her countless times in the past and being proven wrong.

  Isadore and Poppy glanced behind them several times, concerned for their new friend. As Gardner handed the ladies into the carriage, Kerrigan booted the picnic, then gave instructions to the driver of the hack and handed over enough coin to keep him for any amount of time. He added a caution that if the driver were to leave as soon as the barouche was away, then he would be found post-haste and dealt with.

  The driver nodded and looked at the figures in the distance. He tied off the reins and leaned back in the box, putting his feet up and his cap over his eyes. Then he crossed his arms across his chest and settled in for a nap. “Odd sort, the gentry,” he mumbled to himself. “But his coin pays my rest, so I wait until he calls.”

  The sound of Perry’s horses rumbling down the road was the only thing that could have broken his concentration. He focused his attention back on Lilly. She was no longer shaking and her breath had steadied, her tension drained. He loosened his hold slowly, waiting for her to look up from his chest. He ran his hand up and down her spine, continuing to steady her.

  Although her expression was still confused when she finally looked up, it was also more serene. Her eyes met his and held, the green of the grass around them reflecting and rioting within their depths. She took a deep breath, her chest filling and expanding, colliding with the wall of his.

  He moved one hand to her jaw and she leaned into his palm, closing her eyes. “Will I ever find this with someone else?” she whispered.

  “Why should you, when you have this with me?”

  She started to shake her head but he held her still. She opened her eyes, but he was close, the sight of him stealing the breath she would have used to argue.

  “I love you, Lilly.” His lips moved against hers. This kiss was different from any kiss before. This kiss wasn’t meant to rouse. This kiss was meant to prove, compel, and bind.

  She grasped his coat in her hands and pulled him closer, ever closer. The embrace reached through to her soul and deepened, yet still did not push. She realized his intention, felt his testimony against her mouth, understood in that moment the truth of his words, his conviction. She should never have doubted him.

  He moved to her side and swept her off her feet again, then carried her to the hack he assumed his man had arranged.

  “Ho!”

  The driver started, sitting up and pulling off his cap, then jumped down to wrench the door open.

  Perry carefully placed Lilly inside the small carriage then followed her up. He gave instructions to the driver, who closed the door behind him and leapt up to the hack, sending the horse down the lane.

  “From here on,” Perry said, turning to her and taking her hand, “my intentions toward you are to be taken as honorable. You are to remove to Roxleigh House across the square and take residence there as a guest. I will arrange for one of my aunts to act as chaperone, and I will provide my own men for your safety.”

  “I do not understand,” she whispered.

  He took a deep breath. “I am to court you, Lilly, with the intention of taking you to wife.”

  Lilly’s eyes grew wide, sparkling in the dimness of the carriage. She started to shake her head but he caught her hand in his again.

  “No, we’ll have no more of this between us. No more confusion, no more questions. I have made my intentions clear. You will need to decide what path to choose.” She opened her mouth to argue and he placed a thumb over it gently. “But not today. You will allow me to court you properly, you will allow yourself to be courted properly. You will decide your path when I ask you to be my wife. Make no mistake, I have not done so yet.”

  Lilly blinked. She nodded once, and he released her and withdrew to the opposite corner of the hack, which wasn’t all that far as the combination of his size and the cramped interior of the carriage didn’t allow for much space.

  They soon arrived back at the town house and Perry handed her to the pavement. He heard his carriage and horses in the back mews and smiled, knowing his cousins were already safely at home.

  He turned to the driver and handed him an extra coin.

  The driver hesitated, then smiled. “Anytime yer in need, milord,” he said with a stiff nod.

  Perry escorted Lilly inside, then paused and turned to her. “As I imagine you are quite weary, I would think you’d enjoy a bath while I make out some instructions and send them off. We’ll move you to Roxleigh House on the morrow, for my family is quitting London for the wedding and I need to make arrangements before everyone is away.”

  ”A bath does sound quite nice, in fact,” she said in her best speech. “Perhaps when you are finished you will join me upstairs? We missed the lesson you had planned for today, and I would hate to be a poor student.”

  Perry was momentarily taken aback by her change in demeanor, but then he kicked the corner of his mouth into a grin. “I would love to attend you, my dear, as we will have little opportunity after tomorrow. Thoug
h poor is far from the descriptions I would choose for you.”

  She turned and walked toward the stairs, allowing her hips to sway enticingly, her skirts swishing across the floor at her feet like a wide broom. She ascended the steps carefully, knowing he was watching her every move.

  Perry’s mouth went dry. He had the rather sudden thought that he wanted to see her in pearls. And not much else.

  Harper cleared his throat politely, bringing Perry around.

  “I’ll be in my study, no visitors,” he said.

  Harper nodded and, taking Perry’s gloves and hat, he retreated.

  Perry went straight to his desk to write to one of his aunts and explain the circumstances...carefully. He considered his options. Lady Wyntor might not be in town as she’d never been fond of the Season, and as she had only the two sons, she wasn’t particularly needed there, either. Lady Trumbull was too feisty for his purposes. He didn’t need another willful and overbearing Irish woman in his nose; his experience with her daughter Maebh this morning was proof of that.

  So it was left between the dowager Duchess of Warrick and the Duchess of St. Cyr. He would need to prepare Lilly to be in the company of either. Perry thought the latter duchess to be just the thing. Her son Calder was obviously of a mind to appreciate the difficult situation Perry found himself in, and since she’d raised Calder to be such a man, he knew she would be of a like mind. Not only that, but in the Trumbull hierarchy she was the reigning matron, one who ruled Society’s opinions with an iron fist of butterflies. She should be the first to sing the praises of his precious lady.

  He took his quill from the desk and dipped, then blotted it.

  Madame,

  It would be my honor if you would extend your time in London to be introduced to a

  recent acquaintance of mine. In truth, she is in need of a chaperone, such as we know you to be, for

  perhaps a fortnight until I return to Eildon. I would consider it the greatest honor if you were to

  act in her interest and stay with her, as she will be a guest of my brother at Roxleigh House as of the morrow.

  If you would be so good as to attend a small dinner at my own town house this evening, you may be introduced and I will endeavor to explain everything then.

  Shall we say nine o’ clock?

  Very respectfully, your devoted nephew,

  Peregrine

  •••

  Her Grace, Auberry Leigh Calder,

  The Duchess of St. Cyr

  Sussex Square, Kensington Gardens

  The duchess studied the formal writing on the outside of the missive, then shrugged as she broke the seal. “Hmmm…” She looked at the faces of her sisters, sons, daughter, nieces, and nephews, who were all taking tea with her in the parlor.

  “What is it, Mama?” asked Isadore.

  “Well, it appears that all the excitement of your excursion has brought a difficulty with which my dear nephew needs my support.”

  Isadore watched her mother fold the missive and tuck it into the hidden pocket of her skirt. The duchess was petite, as she was, with rolling blonde curls the color of cornsilk. Her vivid eyes were either bright green or blue, depending on the environs, and Isadore always thought her gaze magical in that respect. Whenever she spoke, the color of her eyes shifted as she looked around a room, reflecting what her gaze was cast upon. She, intent on its occupants. Her mother carried the look of a wiser woman than she, but still the duchess was often mistaken for her sister instead of her parent.

  Isadore, in fact, didn’t realize that she was the mirror image of her mother in a younger day. “And are you willing to help?” Isadore asked.

  The duchess glanced at her daughter. “I am of a mind, of course. As you are off to Eildon with family there is no need of me. You, and your cousins, shall be surrounded by willing chaperones. I see no harm in staying behind and helping Perry with this difficulty, whatever it may be. We will join the party in a fortnight—plenty of time to commune before the ceremonies begin.”

  Isadore looked to her cousins as the duchess called to their butler, Albert.

  “Your Grace.” He bowed reverently.

  “I imagine Trumbull’s man is awaiting my response?”

  “He is, Your Grace.”

  “By all means, send him in.”

  Albert backed out of the room, allowing Kerrigan to enter.

  Kerrigan bowed. “Your Grace,” he said, then swept his eyes over the room. “—es,” he added slowly, along with a precarious “My lords and ladies.”

  The duchess smiled and waved at him to stand. “I realize I must thank you for attending the ladies and returning them safely to Calder House. I am most appreciative of your service to my family.”

  “Twas my honor, Your Grace, as ever.”

  “If you would be so kind, inform your household to expect fifteen for dinner, and notify Lord Trumbull that his family has accepted his invitation.”

  Kerrigan’s eyes widened, for he knew Perry wasn’t expecting the family to descend on his meager—by comparison—town house, as he also knew that there was no way for him to argue on his behalf. Unfortunately for his master, Kerrigan also realized that he wouldn’t be prepared, as he’d given explicit orders to be left undisturbed until his guests arrived. However, for this bit of chaos, disturbing him may be the lesser of two evils.

  The duchess’ eyes twinkled up at him knowingly.

  “As you wish, Your Grace,” Kerrigan said with another bow.

  The duchess nodded and he backed out of the room swiftly, a sweat breaking across his brow. Some simple dinner this was to be. “Fifteen?” he said under his breath as he walked from the house. “He’ll have my arse for this!” he exclaimed as he mounted his horse and turned for Grosvenor.

  The duchess giggled as the front door closed behind Perry’s man. She looked around the room to find wide-eyed stares on all fronts. “What?”

  “You could have sent that man straight to the gallows and he’d have gone more happily, Mama,” Calder said.

  The duchess laughed loudly, the sweet, hearty sound carrying throughout the room and relaxing the rest of her family. “Perry should have known better than to send an invitation to dinner, to me—at Calder House—at tea,” she said with a grin. “I daresay there was hardly a way I could slight my dear family when an invitation was delivered with everyone in attendance.”

  “And I daresay it will never happen again,” her younger son Jerrod injected.

  Isadore looked up at her twin brother who stood at her shoulder. “Jerrod!” she whispered.

  The duchess reached across the chaise and patted her daughter on the knee. “Oh, Isadore, my sweet, don’t trouble yourself. Thorne?”

  “Yes, Mama?” Calder responded.

  “You will fetch your father and uncles from White’s, won’t you? They aren’t aware we have a dinner to attend this evening.” Though it was phrased as a request, everyone knew it was truly a command.

  “Of course, Mama. Might I implore Jerrod, Quentin, Grayson, and Timothy to accompany me?” he said in the same tone.

  “Don’t dare manage me, sweet. You’ll not emerge unscathed.”

  He bowed, hiding a sly grin.

  She laughed and waved off all the men in the room. “Be gone with you. The parlor at tea is a lady’s domain, and you, sweet gentlemen, are no ladies,” she said with a bright smile.

  Calder leaned down to kiss her on the cheek and whisper in her ear before he brushed a kiss across the hand of every woman in the room. His brothers and cousins followed suit, then they all gathered in the hall, laughing as the doors shut.

  “Good God, man, how long were we to endure that?” Lord Timothy Wyntor, Earl of Vaughn, asked. “Your summons didn’t refer to tea,” he said grumpily.

  “I was already to White’s. You could have found me there,” his brother Quentin added.

  “I wasn’t entirely confident in what form our cousin’s need would surface. I merely assumed that Calder House would be the
best place to find the result,” Calder answered. “Along that line, I won’t be quitting London with the family. I’ll stay in residence to assist Perry as need arises, until we all return to Eildon,” he said as he donned his top hat.

  “Then I remain as well.” This from Grayson, the Duke of Warrick.

  Calder nodded and gestured to the door. “Shall we?”

  Lilly felt better after her bath. She started to dress for the evening, then realized it wasn’t yet needed. She picked up the book Perry had given her of Tennyson’s poems and sat in the chaise next to the fire. Some of the words popped off the page, while others sank into the delicate paper, hiding from her. She made some mental notes about which words she needed help with as she spent her time perusing the volume.

  It was the most wonderful gift she had ever been given. It wasn’t the exceptional first edition Perry kept in his library, but to her this one meant more. He had inscribed the flyleaf, most of which she was still unable to read, and what words she could understand seemed inconsequential, up unto the last of them.

  My something Lilly,

  I something tell you how something I am with you something day. How something I am of you, how much I hope you have a something something, with a something something who will give you all the something and something your something something.

  At times I wish that something be me, but as you keep something it can something be; it can something be.

  Something something that I something you, you have something me much joy, and opened my eyes to a new sort of something.

  I love you for that,

  Perry

  She sighed. He has hope, and he loves me for—something. She sank back into the cushions to rest her eyes, clutching the book to her breast.

  Perry heard the long case clock and stopped in the entry to his suite, the realization of his error slowly dawning on him. “No,” he whispered. His arms fell limp at his sides and his jaw clenched in a violent frown. He turned to stop Kerrigan, but realized quickly there was no hope of catching him. Kerrigan was faster on his mount than any man in London, an asset that made him an invaluable man to keep.