by Mary Brendan
Now her father was en route to Devon, Joan had decided no good would come of advising him of what she’d done after the event. There was a slim chance she’d misconstrued what she’d overheard and was about to make a fool of herself. Oddly she hoped that was the case. Sooner that, she realised, than discover Rockleigh had been easily hoodwinked by the likes of smarmy Stokes.
Joan darted her eyes to the horizon as a shimmer of lightning silvered the slate-grey clouds. She knew that she wanted to be home in her bed before the worst of the weather set in. It seemed the jarvey did, too, for his singing had stopped and Joan could hear him blaspheming at the delay. He began grumbling to the whinnying horse. Peg, as he called her, had resumed stamping and snorting, making the carriage rock.
As far as Maude was aware Joan had missed supper and retired early to nurse a migraine. Her stepdaughter had then slipped out through a side door at twilight dressed in plain dark clothes, walking swiftly away from Upper Brook Street. When sure she would not be spotted Joan had hailed a hackney to take her to Mr Pryke’s office. If her stepmother remained untroubled by her absence the deceit would not be too bad a sin in Joan’s eyes. She knew her conscience would suffer, but she deemed the lie a small price to pay to achieve what she had set out to do. Neither had she told her maid about her clandestine trip. Anna would have insisted in accompanying her and Joan knew that the meeting between herself and Rockleigh must remain completely confidential. Anna, though younger than herself by a year, was a mature character and would be determined to protect her mistress. Although Anna was fairly new to the household the two of them had got on well from the start. Pip and Anna had also struck up an immediate friendship that had blossomed. Joan knew that some below stairs gossiped about the sweethearts, believing a lady’s maid should look higher for a mate. Joan wished the couple well, understanding that for some people only fate and their hearts could determine with whom they fell in love.
With a sigh Joan again scoured the gloomy, empty streets. If the detective didn’t return in the next minute or two, she’d instruct the jarvey to get going. Mr Pryke would have to make his own way back to his abode.
Earlier that day Pryke had conquered his surprise at hearing her request and given her an insolent inspection. Arrangements had been made for her to return to his office that evening. On arrival Joan had been pleased to see that he had a carriage ready and waiting for the trip. She was relieved, too, when he’d observed etiquette and hauled himself up to sit beside the driver. She’d not wanted his shifty eyes constantly on her, or the obligation to find conversation in case an unbearable silence built between them...
‘What in damnation do you think you’re doing?’
Joan almost jumped out of her skin as Rockleigh leapt into the hackney, rudely curtailing her reflection. Slamming the door behind him, he plunged on to the seat opposite.
‘I thought I warned you to stay away from me, my lady,’ he growled, a dangerous glitter in his tigerish eyes as they tore over her petite form.
Joan jerked herself upright, annoyed to have instinctively cowered from him. She was vexed, too, that he had jumped down her throat when she’d put herself to some trouble on his account. ‘You may show me a little more courtesy, if you please, sir! I’m here to do you a favour!’ she snapped.
‘Are you, indeed?’ he queried softly. His hands slid on muscled thighs to his knees as he inclined closer. ‘Let me know what it is then; if it’s to my liking, perhaps I’ll not return you to your father so speedily this time.’ Drew’s voice was as subtly amused as his half-smile.
Joan felt the colour rising in her cheeks as his hooded gaze flowed more leisurely over her buttoned bodice. ‘To return me to my father on this occasion would take more time and money than I’ll warrant you’re prepared to spend,’ she returned acidly.
‘You think I can’t afford your company?’
‘I know you can’t,’ Joan retorted hoarsely, avoiding a pair of preying eyes that now challenged rather than laughed at her. ‘The cost of travelling to Devon is considerable.’
‘His Grace is at Thornley Heights, is he? And you thought in his absence you’d masquerade as Miss Morley and come to do me a favour.’
‘The Duke has been called away due to a bereavement. Had he not, he would have come here in my stead,’ Joan said firmly, hoping it was the truth. She could not be certain that, having heard the tale, her father would have sought another meeting with Rockleigh. But without doubt the Duke would abhor the idea of criminals bankrupting a person who’d in the past proved to be his friend.
Instinctively Joan touched her cheek as her blush deepened. The wretch thought she had a fancy for him...which she did not, she impressed upon herself. Her fingers were returned to her lap and calmly clasped together. ‘If your conceit is leading you to think my interest in you is personal you are utterly mistaken.’ She turned to fully face him. ‘You have done us good turns in the past, Mr Rockleigh, and refused payment for it. Thus I thought it only fair to help you now that an opportunity has arisen.’
Drew rested his powerful shoulders against the squabs. As though becoming aware that he was partially unclothed he slowly began doing up the shirt buttons open from tanned midriff to throat. When that was accomplished he rolled down his sleeves with slow deliberation. For an odd reason that small act of good manners made Joan’s heart tip over.
‘Your father would never have agreed to you journeying alone after dusk and if he finds out about it I imagine you’ll taste the back of his hand.’
‘He wouldn’t hit me,’ Joan said hoarsely.
She knew that they both remembered the time when her father would have done so but for the man lounging opposite preventing the Duke’s open palm stinging her cheek. Never before and never since had her papa raised his hand to her. In the interim she had behaved as she ought. But now Drew Rockleigh had once more been reluctantly embroiled in one of her escapades and her father would be livid if he found out about it.
‘Neither do I believe that the Duke of Thornley would send his daughter to act for him.’ Drew crossed his arms over his shirt ruffles. ‘I think he’s ignorant of this opportunity you’ve found to be charitable, my lady.’
Joan pursed her lips, exasperated by his attitude. It seemed to her that he wanted to throw back in her face any assistance before knowing what it was! ‘If I have inconvenienced, or embarrassed, you by offering to alleviate your awful predicament, then just go away again!’ Joan flicked an imperious hand at the door. ‘I’d as soon return home before travelling becomes hazardous.’ An ominous rumble of thunder endorsed her fear that the storm was rolling closer.
‘What awful predicament am I in, Joan?’ Drew’s tone still hinted at mockery, but it was gentle now and the finger that traced fire on the back of her hand was feather light...less a caress and more a way of gaining her attention.
Slowly, Joan withdrew from his reach, but the sensual tingle on her skin remained.
‘I know you’ve had rotten luck,’ she blurted. ‘My father told me that business turned bad for you, but perhaps there’s a reason behind it that you know nothing about.’ She waited for his comment, but the quiet continued and his expression gave nothing away. ‘I attended the Wentworths’ ball a few days ago and while there met two ladies I believe to be your relatives.’ A flicker of emotion crossed his features, but thick black lashes soon shuttered his eyes. ‘Have you a comment to make?’ Joan prompted.
‘What do you want me to say? That I’m sorry you had to breathe the same air as my kin?’
‘Of course not!’ Joan tutted. ‘A Mr Stokes was accompanying them.’ She’d gained a reaction the moment she’d mentioned Cecilia’s guardian; Drew leaned closer, again, propping his elbows on his knees. His steady stare was hypnotic, entrapping Joan’s eyes while he quietly brooded on what she’d said.
‘I gather you’ve somehow worked out for yourself I’m related to
these people rather than having had it confirmed.’ His neutral statement broke the spell.
Joan nodded vigorously, feeling she was making progress in solving the puzzle. The crux of the matter was approaching so she shifted nearer to him. ‘There was some talk about a Miss Denby and her mother. I went to say hello as they were all alone in the supper room.’ She paused, wondering how to phrase that the talk about his niece could escalate into trouble for Cecilia. ‘Lady Regan and my aunt are friends and during the evening it came out that her ladyship is assisting Miss Denby’s rehabilitation following...an unfortunate episode.’
A cynical smile acknowledged her diplomatic reference to Cecilia’s aborted elopement. She needed no further proof that the Denbys were his kin. ‘Later, I was walking in the garden,’ she rattled off. ‘I overheard a conversation between Mrs Denby and Mr Stokes.’ A rush of blood stung her cheeks at the memory of being privy to their passionate encounter.
‘You were eavesdropping on my sister and her lover?’ Drew suggested drily.
‘I...I was not!’ Joan stammered out the fib. She had purposely strained to hear every syllable uttered by the couple. ‘Well... I did, actually,’ she admitted sheepishly. ‘And you should be glad of that!’ She sent him a frown. ‘I heard your sister mention you. Then Mr Stokes started talking and it became apparent why you have been reduced to earning a living the way you do.’ Joan’s expression turned wary. She was unsure how he’d react to knowing she’d discovered things about him that he might prefer remained hidden.
‘They were stupidly discussing a fraud out in the open, were they?’ Drew sounded contemptuous rather than embarrassed.
Joan’s soft pink lips parted in surprise. ‘You knew about their scheming?’
He sent her a smile that was as good as an affirmative.
‘They think you do not!’ Joan exclaimed, scouring her memory for the words she’d overheard. ‘Mr Stokes said... “If your dear brother were the paragon of wisdom you imagine him to be, Bertha, I would not have managed to so easily dupe him.”’ Having parroted the villain’s boast, Joan sat back, waiting for Drew’s reaction.
‘Well...paragon of wisdom...is overdoing it a bit,’ he said. ‘But I’ll take the praise, even from her.’
‘You think it a joke?’ Joan demanded, exasperated by his attitude. She looked him over: tall, handsome, a fine figure of a man despite his lowly status. But most people who had known his luxurious life would be devastated to fall so far. ‘Do you not care that they have ruined you?’ she demanded. She had anticipated him thanking her for alerting him to such treachery.
‘What I care about is that you should remain unharmed by this,’ he countered sternly. ‘Did they spot you close by?’
Joan shook her head vigorously, setting her glossy curls swaying. ‘They were too wrapped up in each other and I made sure to keep out of sight.’
‘You must never speak of this to anybody but me. Do you understand?’
‘Of course, I wouldn’t tell a soul, other than my papa,’ Joan replied. On seeing his expression darken, she added quickly, ‘You can trust him. He will help you, I’m sure. And Luke is bound to want to offer assistance, too...’
Drew leaned forward, gripping her hands and jerking her closer to him. ‘You tell nobody, Joan. Please forget all about this. As I’ve said I wish you’d never heard those two talking about me.’
‘Well, I’m glad I did! I’m not bothered about them,’ Joan stoutly declared, wrenching herself from his restraint. ‘I’m used to being in the midst of criminals. I’m from the West Country, as you know, and the smuggling gang that used to infest the coast were always making trouble. Papa and I strove to get the ringleader punished and eventually he was arrested.’ She gazed earnestly into Drew’s shadowy hazel eyes. ‘When I turned up at your hunting lodge, unannounced, I was urgently seeking Luke Wolfson’s assistance against those murderous rogues.’
‘Yes... I discovered that later,’ Drew said ruefully. ‘If you’d have told me at the time, I’d have offered my help in his absence.’
‘I couldn’t...I didn’t know you then, I was unsure whether to trust you...’
‘And now?’
Joan nibbled her lower lip, drawing a sardonic smile from him as her silence continued.
‘I’m not sure whether I can trust you either, my lady.’
‘I think you know you can!’ Joan returned indignantly. ‘If I didn’t honestly want to help you, I wouldn’t have come, would I?’
‘No, you would not,’ Drew gently said, offering an olive branch. ‘And I’m grateful to you, but you should not have come here.’
‘But can’t you see I’m a boon to you? I’m already practised at bringing villains to justice. My father will tell you how we outwitted the smugglers. Mostly it was Papa’s doing, but I had hand in it, too.’ Her breathless boast made him smile wryly and Joan tingled with self-consciousness. After a moment’s concentration Joan demanded, ‘The man I saw you with in the park...is he involved in this mystery, too?’
‘In a way he is...but he’s assisting me in another matter, too.’ Drew sat back, rubbing a hand about his unshaven jaw. ‘I want you to forget about all of this, Joan. It’s kind of you to offer to help, but I have things in hand; there’s no need for you or your family to worry on my account—’
‘I think you should set the authorities on to the crooks,’ Joan interrupted. She slid forward on the seat, tempted to shake him by the shoulders in her zeal to prod him into action. ‘How can they ever rectify making you suffer like this?’
A corner of Drew’s lips tilted and, taking her hands, his thumbs caressed over soft skin. ‘You’ve risked a lot to come and tell me about this, and I’m grateful,’ he said gently as though praising a child. ‘But I meant what I said; you must forget about it.’
‘You will get them arrested?’ Unconsciously, Joan squeezed his long fingers in an attempt to hurry his decision.
‘In due course they’ll get their comeuppance...’
‘I’d like a better response than that!’
‘Such as?’ A single long finger turned her chin back towards him when she averted her eyes. ‘Forget about them,’ he commanded huskily. ‘Dwell on us...’
Joan flicked moisture to her lips with her tongue-tip and immediately his eyes devoured her innocent enticement.
‘I...I thought you’d be fired with resentment and vengefulness when I told you about it.’ She gestured impatiently and with a jerk liberated her chin. When he ruefully lowered his face to his clasped hands, Joan’s niggling ire increased. It seemed her daring and her cash had been squandered after all. She’d engaged a detective so she might warn him and had had her assistance rejected. ‘You enjoy being a pauper, do you?’ she taunted. ‘Will you carry on fighting in a boxing ring because Stokes has beaten you? Perhaps in time you’ll find the nerve to confront him over it.’
‘You don’t know anything about it...and now I think it’s time you went home.’ Drew rammed his back against the seat, regarding her steadily from between close ebony lashes.
‘I will go home, Mr Rockleigh, not because you say so, but because I’ll waste no more time on a coward. You may stew in your own juice!’ She glared at him, waiting for him to get out. When he didn’t she nodded at the door to hurry him.
The only movement he made was to rap on the roof to set the vehicle in motion.
‘What are you doing?’ Joan demanded, contradicting his order with a hefty bang of her own. It had the desired effect and the hackney shuddered to a standstill. ‘You may get out and let Mr Pryke get in.’
‘I’ll take you back to Mayfair.’
‘I shall return in the same company as that in which I arrived.’
‘Pryke’s been dismissed from duty.’
‘By whom?’
‘By me.’ Drew signalled with a fist for the carriag
e to set off.
Joan called out this time for the jarvey to rein Peg in. Her storm-grey eyes clashed on a lazy stare. ‘There is no need for you to accompany me and I’d greatly prefer that you did not. There is a risk we might be spotted together and stir up trouble.’
‘I think that particular horse bolted two years ago, my dear.’
‘Two years ago you were a gentleman and it would not have been quite so dire had it got out that you’d compromised me.’
‘That’s not how you saw it at the time.’ Drew’s eyes swerved to the window as lightning flared behind the blind. ‘As I recall, you considered it a calamity and said you’d take vows rather than wed me.’
‘Now you have turned into a ruffian that convent seems yet more appealing. So take yourself off.’ Joan whipped her face from his silent laughter. This time when he knocked for the hackney to set off she did not counteract his command simply because she knew he wanted her to. ‘My brother-in-law would be disgusted to know his friend is too craven to exact retribution from the crooks who’ve swindled him.’
‘Luke would also be upset that you’ve been slum visiting.’
‘Under the vicar’s protection and for a good cause,’ Joan parried.
‘The vicar’s protection proved not much use as I recall. Now that your father has forbidden you teaching the children, am I your new charity case, my lady?’
‘No, you are not! Those youngsters were far more deserving than you. Had I known what an ungrateful wretch you are I’d not have wasted a second of my time on you.’