A Good Rake is Hard to Find

by Manda Collins

  “Well,” he said with a shrug, “it is merely our own suspicions that say Gerard is responsible for Jonathan’s accident. So to the rest of the world it is merely a tribute to a fellow club member who was lost in an accident pursuing the sport he loved best.”

  He continued. “It is also an opportunity for both of us to get the lay of the land. To begin our inroads into the club itself. My cousin has been after me to join for some years now, and I have a strong feeling that he will be unable to resist parading you before the other members. Especially if he’s the one who killed your brother. He’s the sort who liked to torture flies as a child. Having you there, oblivious—at least in his own mind—to the truth of things, will be a delightful joke to him.”

  Leonora shuddered. Again grateful for the fire.

  “I suppose that makes sense,” she said with a frown. “The more I learn about your cousin, however, the less I like him.”

  Freddy laughed. “You’re not alone in that,” he agreed. “But just remember that we will have the last word on this. And imagine how satisfying it will feel to finally bring him to justice.”

  “Oh, I will,” she said with a grin. “Most assuredly.”

  * * *

  Freddy left the Craven town house with the intention of seeking out Mainwaring and Trent to discuss their next move in the plan to infiltrate the Lords of Anarchy. He had not gone far, however, when a highly polished open carriage sporting a pair of the most perfectly matched bays he’d ever seen came round the corner of Half Moon Street.

  Slowing his mount, Hector, he was unsurprised to find his cousin Gerard himself handling the reins.

  “Well met, Lord Frederick,” Sir Gerard Fincher said, inclining his head in a manner that reminded Freddy of an emperor greeting his subjects. “I’ve not seen you since your return from the Continent.”

  “Indeed, cousin,” Freddy agreed, then sweeping off his beaver hat, he nodded to his cousin’s female companion. A companion who was most decidedly not his cousin’s wife. “Mrs. Chater, you are looking lovely as always.”

  The dimpled matron, whose husband was a member of the club, was well known around town as his cousin’s mistress, though Freddy was rather surprised that Gerard risked his wife’s wrath so openly. Melisande had always struck him as rather frightening when crossed.

  The Honorable Henry Chater, Mrs. Chater’s husband, however, was rumored to be quite sanguine with the arrangement. Something Freddy found difficult to understand.

  “Thank you, my lord,” his cousin’s mistress simpered. “You are too kind.”

  “I hope you are finding London to be much as you left it,” Sir Gerard said. “Though I like to think we have made it more entertaining in your absence.”

  That was one way of putting it, Freddy thought. Aloud he said, “Indeed, I have heard much said about your driving club. It sounds like just the sort of thing I’d like to participate in. Though I doubt I’d be able to match you with the reins. You always were more of a dab hand than I ever was.”

  The flattery hit its mark, and Freddy was pleased to note the flash of satisfaction in his cousin’s eyes at the compliment. “You are too kind,” Fincher said with a wolfish grin. “We did have fun in the old days when we were learning the whip, didn’t we?”

  “We did,” Freddy confirmed with an answering smile. “But you were always the more skilled driver.”

  It was just the right thing to say, for Sir Gerard smiled with genuine pleasure. He’d always been a proud one, Freddy reflected. Even when they were boys. Good to know some things hadn’t changed. It would make his mission easier if he could rely upon Gerry’s self-love to manipulate him.

  “You flatter me, cousin,” Fincher said, inclining his head. “I happen to know that a pair of sweet bays are going to be on the block at Tatt’s this week, if you’re interested. I know the owner. Has to sell them to pay his gaming debts, poor fellow. I think they’ll be just the thing. He might even include the rig with them too if you offer him enough.”

  But Freddy wasn’t quite ready to spend a great deal of money on a carriage he had no use for. His brother Archer, who was currently in the country with his new wife, had offered to let Freddy borrow his own curricle and chaise and four when he needed them. That would do well enough for Freddy. It wouldn’t hurt to let Gerard think he wasn’t quite able to afford a new rig.

  “That would be capital,” he said, masking his annoyance with a grin. “But I’ve made other arrangements. Though I appreciate the offer.”

  Fincher looked thoughtful for a moment, then as if deciding upon something, continued, “I think you’d be a welcome addition to the club, cousin. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. We have a recent opening, as I’m sure you know. Poor old Craven.”

  Freddy felt himself tense at the mention of Jonathan. He hadn’t expected Fincher to mention it so openly. “Jonathan Craven?” he asked, with a frown. “Was he a member? I heard about his death of course. We were friends, you know.”

  “Yes, indeed,” Fincher replied smoothly, “he was a member, poor chap. It was terrible what happened to him. Nothing to do with the club, you understand. But terrible.”

  That his cousin was denying that Jonathan’s death had anything to do with the club—and by extension, himself—took Freddy aback somewhat. But he was careful to hide his surprise. “Indeed. I am relieved to hear it. Though you must know that there is talk about the club being involved. I will, of course, do my best to quell the rumors when I hear them.”

  “I would be grateful,” Fincher said with an angry frown. “Though I could wish that people were not so eager to spread lies. I’ve even heard that some people blame me, personally, for Craven’s accident. As if I have any control over a man’s horses when he’s miles away. It’s pure lunacy.”

  “It is the way of the world, my dear Sir Gerard,” Mrs. Chater said with a sympathetic pat on his hand. “People will talk when they are jealous. You know that as well as I. You are simply too powerful for them to resist.”

  Despite the widow’s blandishments, Gerard was obviously still gripped by anger. There was an uncomfortable silence while he got hold of his temper. Finally, after a breath he said, “We are having a small soiree tomorrow evening, Frederick, and I’d like for you to come. A small affair to celebrate Jonathan’s life. I will have Melisande send round an invitation for you. If I had thought of it I’d have invited you sooner.”

  Freddy was careful not to show his triumph at the invitation. He hadn’t even needed to ask. “I would be delighted to attend. Thank you.” And though he disliked the notion of Leonora even breathing the same air as his cousin, mindful of his promise to her, he added, “And might I also secure an invitation for my betrothed?”

  Once more, Sir Gerard’s eyes widened in surprise. “Never say, some winsome lady has snared the elusive Lord Frederick Lisle in the parson’s mousetrap,” the other man said with shock. “I daresay she is some Continental beauty you brought back with you from Paris.”

  “Indeed not,” Freddy said with what he hoped was a wolfish grin. “She is someone I have known for quite some time. Miss Leonora Craven and I have decided to give it another go.”

  Mrs. Chater gasped. “The bluestocking? And you, my lord? I should never have guessed it.” Her eyes traveled the length of his body in a boldly assessing way. “I wonder if she’ll know what to do with you.”

  Before Freddy could respond, Gerard patted his mistress’s hand, though her wince revealed it might have been a bit rougher than it seemed. “My cousin and Miss Craven were betrothed once before, Mrs. Chater. Many years ago. It was not common knowledge, of course. But Freddy and Miss Craven’s brother, the fellow who just died, were great friends.”

  Something in his cousin’s tone sent a chill up Freddy’s spine. But unlike earlier, he didn’t make the mistake of revealing his feelings openly. His eyes, now hooded, were watchful.

  “It’s quite true, Mrs. Chater,” Freddy said, pretending to ignore his cousin’s scrutiny
with a sheepish smile. “The lady decided to break things off before the marriage, of course, or we’d even now be wed. She went her way and I went mine. Then, when I returned to London, I went to see her to offer my condolences and we found that our affection for one another had returned, and only this morning she agreed to be my wife. The announcement will be in the papers before the end of the week.”

  “Perhaps you should spirit the lady off to Gretna this time, Freddy,” Sir Gerard said with a cruel laugh, “just to ensure that she goes through with the thing.” His tone indicated that he would not be so foolish as to let a lady leave him before the wedding.

  “There is little danger of that this time,” Freddy retorted coolly. “I was the one at fault before, and I have no intention of making the same mistake twice.”

  “I am pleased to hear it, cousin,” Gerard said in a tone that did not seem convinced. “I will also have Melisande send an invitation to Miss Craven. I am pleased to hear she is out in company again. I believe she was quite seriously touched by her brother’s death.”

  “Of course she was, Sir Gerard,” Mrs. Chater said firmly. “Any sister of worth would be quite upset. I will do whatever I can to welcome her to the gathering.”

  If Freddy thought it odd that his cousin’s mistress spoke as if she were to host the soiree instead of Melisande Fincher, however, it was impossible to say anything without offending the lady. And Gerard didn’t seem to think there was anything odd about it. “I know the members of the club in attendance will be pleased to see her,” he said with a nod. “Now, if you will excuse me, my horses are a bit restless.”

  As they stood there, the bays had become increasingly restive, though Sir Gerard had managed to keep them under control while they chatted. Now, however, they were pawing the ground and snorting, as if the enforced inactivity were the equine equivalent of a cage.

  Freddy saluted his cousin with his whip, and drew his own mount to the side so that his cousin could steer his horses away from the curb and into the cobblestone street. “See you tomorrow evening,” Sir Gerard said, before allowing his horses to have their heads a bit.

  Lost in thought, Freddy steered Hector in the opposite direction, headed for White’s where he was supposed to meet with Mainwaring and Trent. He’d thought it would be more difficult to inveigle an invitation from his cousin. The fact that it had been easier than expected made him a bit wary about the whole thing. There was something odd about the ease with which Sir Gerard had welcomed him into his circle. Even so, Freddy was not about to turn down the invitation. He needed to get inside the Lords of Anarchy, and if a family connection paved the way for him to do it, then so be it.

  He’d simply have to be careful about taking his cousin’s words at face value.

  And make doubly sure that Leonora knew to do so, too.

  Five

  “Married?” Miss Ophelia Dantry demanded later that afternoon when Leonora divulged the news of her engagement to her two closest friends. “Why on earth would you agree to such a thing, Leonora? You have so much autonomy now without being bothered with the burden of a husband.”

  “Not everyone is as opposed to the married state as you are, Fee,” Lady Hermione Upperton said with a roll of her eyes. “To hear you tell it, marriage is a prison for any woman who enters into it. Regardless of the amiability of her husband.”

  “Since the marriage will never take place,” Leonora assured her friends, “then the matter is neither here nor there. It is merely a ruse to ensure that I am able to gain entrance to the world of the Lords of Anarchy. Though I can assure you both that even if I had to marry Lord Frederick Lisle to find out who killed my brother, I would do it.”

  She and Freddy had agreed to keep their pact a secret, but she trusted her friends implicitly. “But Frederick?” Ophelia demanded. “After he treated you so abominably the last time you were betrothed?”

  The three ladies had been friends since attending the same finishing school the year they made their debuts in society. Now, some five years later, all three were considered to be firmly on the shelf by most hostesses of the ton, but none of them minded. Ophelia had learned firsthand how miserable marriage could be from her mother’s unhappy union to her father and was determined to escape the state herself. Hermione had yet to find a gentleman who was comfortable with a lady who was more nimble with the reins than he was. And though Leonora said it was because of her aversion to being ordered about by another man, her true reason was the same that had kept her from marrying Freddy before. Her inability to bear children.

  Despite her own misgivings about her temporary arrangement with Freddy, though, Leonora was not quite willing to let Ophelia question it. “I have made my decision, Ophelia,” she said firmly. “I know your feelings on the matter of marriage. I even agree with you on many points, but despite what you think of him, Frederick is an honorable man. What happened between us before was entirely my own fault. No matter what you might have heard.”

  “We are simply worried for you, Nora,” Hermione said with a speaking look in Ophelia’s direction that Leonora could not help seeing. “The last time the two of you broke things off you were not yourself for … some time.”

  She left unspoken the fact that Leonora had come close to such soul-crushing despair that her friends had feared for her life. For a moment Leonora wanted more than anything to confide her grief to her two greatest friends in the world. But though she knew they would be the last people to find her wanting, it was her own shame that kept her silent on the matter.

  “I do know, my dears,” she said now, taking her friends’ hands in her own. “And do not for one moment think that I am not appreciative of your concern. But you must allow me to do what I think right. And in this case, that means this alliance with Freddy.”

  “I suppose you know what is best,” Ophelia groused, though it was clear from her expression that she wasn’t so sure. “I do wish you’d have chosen someone else for this ruse, however. He’s so very high-handed.”

  “Though quite handsome,” Hermione said with a giggle. “I always thought so. And he can be quite amusing, even you must admit, Fee.”

  “Amusement will be the furthest thing from my mind, I’m afraid,” Leonora said, relieved that her friends seemed to be reconciled to the situation. She would do what she must, but it would be easier to embark upon the investigation into her brother’s death knowing that she had the support of her dearest friends. “As you know, Jonathan was one of Freddy’s oldest friends, and he is just as convinced as I am that the Lords of Anarchy had something to do with Jonny’s death.”

  “If they were the least bit willing to behave like civilized creatures and allow ladies into their ranks,” Hermione said, pouring herself another cup of tea, “then I might have investigated things a bit, as well.”

  “I doubt sincerely that they would be willing to change their name to the Lords and Ladies of Anarchy,” Ophelia said wryly. “And honestly, I am shocked that the crown has allowed them to go about calling themselves the Lords of Anarchy given how unsettled things still are over what happened in France only a matter of years ago. England might not be as ripe for revolution as France was, but it must give the government pause to have a group that uses the term ‘anarchist,’ even in jest, to walk the streets.”

  “If the members weren’t all quite happy enjoying the benefits of coming from the finest families in England, I think you’d be right,” Leonora said with a sigh. “But despite the name they seem more likely to wage war on a keg of ale than the crown.”

  “True enough,” Hermione agreed. “I daresay the prince recalls his own cronies’ days with the Four Horse Club with fondness. Now there was a group of true driving aficionados. And they allowed ladies into their midst.”

  “I am quite familiar with the FHC,” Leonora said with a smile. “Between you and Jonny I believe I could recite their history from memory.”

  “Please don’t,” Ophelia said with a moue of distaste. “If I have to hear th
e Tommy Ounslow rhyme again I will expire right here at the tea table.”

  “Ha-ha,” Hermione said, frowning. To Leonora she said, “Tell us how you and Freddy mean to go about your investigation.”

  Grateful that her friends had chosen not to engage in the quarrel that seemed to hover just beneath the surface, Leonora said, “Well, Freddy and I will announce our betrothal in the papers, and in the meantime he will do what he can to gain the confidence of his cousin Sir Gerard Fincher.”

  “Better him than you,” Hermione said fiercely. “Despite my desire to gain entry into the Lords of Anarchy, I cannot like Sir Gerard in the least. He always seems to be agreeable, but the smile never reaches his eyes.”

  “His wife is nearly as cold,” Leonora said with shiver. “And unfortunately it’s she I’ll need to befriend if I’m to gain any information about Jonny’s last days within the group. She was quite fond of him from what I recall of his stories of the goings-on within the club. He always spoke of her kindly, at least. And he told me how she took his side against her husband once.”

  “They tend not to move in our circles, though,” Ophelia said. “I do know that she is quite fond of her little dog. I have seen her with him in the park any number of times. I wonder if that might be a way for you to befriend her, Leonora.”

  “Moppet does enjoy a walk in the park from time to time,” Leonora said thoughtfully, referring to her father’s spaniel, who spent most of his time lazing by the fire. She wasn’t sure if he did enjoy the park, but before the week was out, she vowed, she would learn the answer. “An excellent idea, Fee. I will simply have to take him there.”

  Before her friends could respond, Leonora’s maid appeared in the doorway. “An invitation has arrived, miss. By special messenger.”

  While Ophelia and Hermione looked on, Leonora unfolded the missive to read it.

  “Well?” Hermione demanded. “What is it?”

  “An invitation to a small gathering at the home of Sir Gerard and Lady Fincher tomorrow evening,” Leonora said with a grin. “It seems, ladies, that I have chosen the right companion for my investigation. In less than four hours, Freddy has managed to get us an invitation into the lion’s den.”