Lord Kane's Keepsake

by Sandra Heath

  “And that really is the end of it?”

  He glanced at her. “Except for the dividing of the spoils by the lucky wagerers. Avenley was especially gloating, which leads me to believe that he had a considerable amount resting on it. Not that he ever plays for low stakes, of course. Nothing that man does is ever for mere pennies,” he added, almost as an aside.

  Emma turned from the window. “Why do you and he despise each other so much?” she asked.

  He straightened. “It is an entirely personal matter, Emma, and the original cause is most definitely in the past.”

  “I am not to be trusted with the facts?”

  He met her eyes. “That isn’t what I said. Emma, something is quite obviously wrong, and I think you should tell me what it is.”

  She steeled herself. “It concerns the Countess of Purbeck,” she said.

  To her surprise, he gave a brief laugh. “Has she been dripping her poison again? Well, let me assure you that it will not happen again, at least not for some time. When you and she next encounter each other, you will be firmly ensconced as my betrothed, and soon after that you will become Lady Kane.”

  “I … I don’t understand …”

  “She has left town for her husband’s family seat in Sussex, and it is extremely unlikely that she will return to London for at least two months.” He smiled a little. “And should you be wondering how I know all this, let me tell you that it is because I called upon her the evening before last, after Yarmouth and I had been summoned to Castlereagh. I was angry with her because of her conduct toward you, and I meant to speak to her in no uncertain terms. She was not at home when I called, but was expected at any moment, and so I waited, kicking my heels in her drawing room. The hours passed, and I knew that it would soon be too late for me to see you about having to cancel our plans for a drive because of my duties as Castlereagh’s second.

  “I was still determined to see the countess, however, and so I decided to write a letter to you while I waited. After the letter, I helped myself to a glass or two of the earl’s good port, and then made the grave mistake of sitting down in a comfortable armchair. I fell asleep, and was only awoken the next morning by the sound of the countess’s rather hasty return. She was in a panic because she’d caught wind of the momentous return from the dead of her stepson, who was believed to have been lost at sea two years ago.

  “The Earl of Purbeck is apparently overjoyed to have his son restored to him, but the countess is anything but delighted, for she and the son loathe the very sight of each other, and she has lost no opportunity in the past to blacken his name. There is no doubt that the son will now seek to redress the balance, and will do all he can to persuade his father to divorce her. She dares not take this possibility lightly, for if there is one person the earl dotes on more than she, it is his son.

  “I left her in the middle of her panic-stricken preparations for the journey to Sussex, and I said nothing to her about you, for there seemed no point. She was hardly aware of my presence, she was so taken up with alarm that ruin was looming on the horizon. I therefore drove straight here to leave the letter, and then proceeded the thirty miles to Windsor, to the foreign secretary’s residence.”

  Emma stared at him, not knowing quite what to say, for she hadn’t expected him to volunteer what sounded like a very plausible explanation indeed. A flicker of hope stirred within her. “Is that really why you were at her house?”

  He studied her carefully. “Yes. Why do you ask?”

  She lowered her eyes. “Because Stephen and I saw you leaving.”

  He was silent for a moment. “And you concluded that I had been there for much more improper reasons?”

  She colored, unable to meet his eyes. “Yes. Stephen said that it is all over town that you and the countess—”

  “Emma, the countess has been spreading all manner of wishful thinking over town, but none of it is based on fact. I can quite believe that your brother may have heard whispers, but I promise you that the story I told you is the truth of it. My dealings with her amounted to one much-regretted night last spring, no less, and certainly no more.” He left the fireplace and came to her. “Have you been worrying over this?”

  “I didn’t want to believe it, but it seemed that I had the evidence of my own eyes, and then when Stephen told me what he’d heard—”

  He stopped her words by putting his hand to her cheek. “This is one occasion when the smoke of scandal has no fire at all behind it.”

  “Stephen was told that if it were not for the fact that the countess is married already, then she would by now be Lady Kane.”

  “That is what the countess wishes, but I promise you it has never been my wish.’’ His thumb moved against her skin. “I’m not in love with her, Emma, and I would never be taken in by her, for she is too clear an echo of Margot. My lapse with Raine was a moment of madness, one I sometimes cannot credit I surrendered to, and certainly one which I would never repeat.”

  He lowered his hand. “I married Margot because I was head over heels in love with her, so infatuated that I could not see her as she really was. I learned a very painful lesson, and in the end I despised her.”

  “Oh, Gerald …”

  His eyes were dark and warm. “Emma, you are more fascinating and enchanting than Margot ever was, or Raine ever will be, and I would never be unfaithful to you.”

  Before she knew it, he had bent his head forward to kiss her lingeringly on the lips. His arm slid around her waist, drawing her closer, and for a breathless moment she could feel his heart beating close to hers. A thousand and one emotions seized her, making her feel weightless, as if she would float away if he did not hold her. Her lips trembled beneath his as she returned the kiss.

  He drew back then, his eyes even darker. “Do you trust me now, Emma?” he asked softly.

  Had a spell been cast over her, she could not have been more under his influence. “Yes,” she whispered, “I trust you.”

  “It would be so easy to fall hopelessly in love with you, so very easy …” He kissed her again, his warm lips moving luxuriously over hers, and this time her senses stirred eagerly to meet him. She linked her arms around his neck, giving in to all the passion he had aroused from the first moment she had seen him. Love and desire swirled together through her veins, and from the depths of her former misery she was now raised to the dizzying heights of ecstasy.

  Slowly he released her. “I think it is time I left,” he said softly. “By conducting myself in this manner, I have almost taken monstrous advantage of your father’s discretion and hospitality.”

  “When will I see you again?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “I do not think it can be before tomorrow evening’s assembly. Tonight I am dining at Carlton House, and tomorrow morning my lawyer has countless tiresome documents for me to examine and sign, concerning the sale of some of my Scottish land. I am free tomorrow afternoon, but I rather think that you will wish to rest in readiness for the night, which I can guarantee will be very long and tiring.”

  He smiled. “In my experience, ladies usually resort to a little previous sleep rather than trust to their stamina for a lengthy and very noisy social occasion.”

  Even his smile caressed her. She was so happy that she felt light-headed, as if she had had several glasses of champagne. Was it really possible for everything to change so completely? Only a few minutes ago she had been sad and heartbroken, but now she felt as if she could dance on air. The following evening seemed a lifetime away. “I am sure you are right about resting, and so I will take your advice.”

  “I will come here at about nine o’clock, and I will enlist Lady Castlereagh’s assistance again.” He drew her hand to his lips, kissing her palm, and then he went to the door, but there he paused again. “I almost forgot to tell you that my grandfather has now elected to definitely accept the Manchester House invitation, and so I think it would be entirely appropriate if you wore the Keepsake.”

 
; “I will do that”

  “Until then.”

  She nodded. “Until then.”

  The door closed behind him, and Emma suddenly hugged herself with joy, turning around several times so that the hem of her gown fluttered around her ankles and the ribbons of her day bonnet danced against her hair. Her lips still tingled from his kisses, and his tender words rang in her ears. It would be easy to fall hopelessly in love with you, so very easy …

  A weak voice behind her brought her dancing to a standstill. “Hello, Sis.”

  She whirled gladly around to see Stephen smiling wanly at her.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Stephen was still very frail indeed, and he slept for most of the afternoon and evening, but he was able to take a little broth and drink a good draft of the toast water. He complained of a searing pain in his chest, and both Emma and her father remained alarmed about this until Dr. Longford called again and could assure them that this was only to be expected with severe inflammation of the lungs. He insisted that the willow bark and laudanum should continue to be administered, and declared that in his opinion the patient would soon show signs of steady progress, provided he was not foolish enough to leave his bed before the medication had had time to assert its beneficial effect.

  The doctor laid great emphasis upon this, eyeing Emma as he did so, thus making it clear that he had very little faith in the household’s ability to observe even the most simple of instructions. Then, with another guinea safely in his pocket, he again departed.

  Emma and her father slept well that night, and both of them for the same two reasons: Stephen’s turn for the better and Emma’s happy new understanding with Gerald. Mr. Rutherford, who knew nothing of how close the match had come to ending, could not have been more delighted that things were progressing so well, and before retiring declared that if only he could arrange a similarly successful contract for Stephen, he would be a very happy man.

  The beautiful September weather continued, albeit still with that chill of autumn that was so fast turning the leaves to russet and gold. In other years such endless days of sunshine would have meant a prolonging of summer, but this year was different.

  Emma awoke and left her bed to look out the window at the gardens of Mayfair. Oh, yes, she thought, this year was so very, very different, for it had changed her life completely. She was filled with happiness, and now, even though she was still alarmed at the possibility of being presented to the Prince of Wales, she could not wait for the evening to come, so that she could be with Gerald again.

  She dressed in a lemon wool gown, and Dolly pinned her hair up into a simple knot. Then, with a green-and-white floral shawl around her shoulders, she went to see Stephen. She found that her father was already there.

  Stephen had had a comfortable night, but was still very weak and suffering a great deal of pain in his chest. Propped up on his pillows for a while, he had managed to drink some more of the cook’s nourishing beef broth. He was a little drowsy from the laudanum, but was obviously making the steady progress predicted by the physician. His sense of humor surfaced from time to time, especially when Emma tried to persuade him to drink some more of the toast water.

  “I’d prefer not to, for it tastes like gnats’—”

  Mr. Rutherford looked sternly over his spectacles. “That will do, sir.”

  “Well, it does taste like it.”

  “No doubt. Nevertheless, it is prescribed for you by the physician, and so you will drink it.”

  Stephen pulled a face, but made no more protest as Emma put the spout of the posset cup to his lips.

  She smiled. “There, that isn’t so bad, is it?”

  “Just wait until you are ill, sister mine, and I’ll make you drink some foul concoction like this.” He leaned his head back on the pillows. “Oh, how I long for a generous measure of cognac.”

  “All in good time,” she replied, putting the posset cup down again and them sitting on the edge of the bed.

  Mr. Rutherford came to stand beside her. “And how are you this morning, missy?”

  “I’m very well.”

  “Yes, so I see. I vow I haven’t seen your eyes sparkle so much for far too long.”

  “I couldn’t be happier.”

  He patted her shoulder fondly. “Nor could I, my dear, nor could I. By the way, I have to announce that I am venturing forth tonight.”

  She looked up quickly. “You’re coming to Manchester House with me?” she asked hopefully.

  “No, my dear, for I fear that would prove too arduous. As it happens, I am only going two doors away from here. I looked out of my bedroom window this morning and I saw a well-remembered face alighting from a carriage just along the pavement.

  “It was none other than my old school crony Algie Winchester. I haven’t seen him for twenty years or more, but I’d know that hook nose and stooping posture anywhere. I sent a footman out immediately, and as a result I am to dine with Algie this very evening. I do not think that a few seconds in the night air will do me any harm, and I can wrap up as warmly as possible. Oh, I am looking forward to it, for we have so many old times to remember.”

  “Just take care, Father,” said Emma.

  “Don’t fuss, my dear, for I promise you won’t have two invalids to take care of. I am feeling much restored after the journey here, and I hardly think that dining a deux with an old friend is likely to cause a crisis.” He patted her shoulder again. “Come now, let us go down for breakfast, and leave Stephen to rest again.”

  *

  After breakfast, encouraged by the sunshine and by the decision to rest that afternoon in readiness for the long night ahead, Emma decided to go for a walk around the square. Wearing her orange wool pelisse trimmed with brown braiding, and her gold-tasseled brown beaver hat, she emerged from the house with Dolly, and they set off to make a circumambulation of the square.

  They passed the junctions of Charles Street and Grosvenor Street in the southeastern corner, and then walked north toward the junctions of Brook Street and Duke Street. Then they walked west, toward the junctions of North Audley Street and Upper Brook Street. Emma felt nothing as she gazed toward the street that had first held such mystery and then such misery for her.

  She wondered how the countess was progressing at the Earl of Purbeck’s family seat. Was her newly returned stepson doing all he could to dislodge her? Emma was uncharitable enough to hope so, for nothing could have been more unpleasant or spiteful than the countess’s recent conduct.

  In the square’s central garden, the equestrian statue shone brightly in the sunlight, and the light breeze rustled through the trees. Some men were raking the gravel paths, and another was painting the wrought-iron railing. The flower girl was seated in her usual place, and everything was very calm and peaceful, but suddenly there was a clatter of hooves, and Emma glanced along Upper Brook Street again to see a party of fashionable gentlemen returning from a ride in Hyde Park.

  They were very stylish indeed, mounted on Arabian horses that were kept solely for rides in the park. The horses had long manes and tails, and stepped high as they trotted. The gentlemen had their greyhounds with them, rangy, lean beasts that padded silently in the wake of the horses.

  The horsemen and the two women reached the corner of the square at the same time, and while his companions rode on, accompanied by the greyhounds, one of the riders reined in. “Good morning, Miss Rutherford.”

  The remembered voice struck a cold note, and Emma looked up swiftly into Lord Avenley’s single shining eye. He was dressed in a sage-green riding coat and white kerseymere breeches, and his hat was worn at a rakish angle. A jeweled pin reposed in the folds of his neckcloth, and he carried a gold-handled riding crop. His horse was a prancing, glossy-coated chestnut, and he maneuvered it in front of her as she and Dolly made to cross the junction to the western side of the square.

  Emma drew back. “Please let us pass, sir,” she demanded.

  “So unfriendly? Come now, Miss Rutherford, at l
east be civil enough to observe the courtesies.”

  “I have no reason or need to oblige you with courtesy, sir,’’ she replied.

  “Indeed? I would be careful what you say, my dear, for I promise you that I hold all the trumps.”

  She was so anxious to escape that she didn’t really hear what he said. “Please allow us to pass,” she said again, walking further along the pavement.

  He turned his horse, and again blocked her way. “How very determined you are to escape from me, I vow I am most disappointed. Was it maybe something that I said?” His tone was taunting and cool, as if he found her reactions irritating as well as foolish.

  She halted, unable to keep the loathing from her eyes and voice. “You know full well that I have every reason to despise you, sirrah, and by your conduct now you prove more and more that you are most definitely not a gentleman!”

  Suddenly he was unsmiling, and his eye became very cold. “Have a care, my dear, for it would not do for you to go too far. As I have already warned you, I hold all the trumps.”

  At last his words were borne in on her. “What trumps?” she asked warily.

  “Well, to begin with, there is the small matter of your brother’s lOU’s. Offend me too greatly, and I will not hesitate to call them in immediately.” His smile was made even more menacing by the black velvet eye patch. “And then there is the matter of your regard for Kane. I can only imagine that you wish to cling to your extraordinarily fortunate match.”

  “My match has nothing whatsoever to do with you, sir, and as to your threat to call my brother’s debts in, I suppose there is nothing I can say to make you change your mind.”

  “On the contrary, my dear, there is a great deal you can say.”

  He frightened her a little, and she wished he would leave her alone. “Please allow us to pass, my lord,” she requested again.

  “Pass by all means, Miss Rutherford,” he replied, maneuvering his horse aside, but as she and Dolly made to hurry by, he spoke again. “You will hear from me again soon, Miss Rutherford, and when you do, you would be well advised to respond without any foolish delay. As to tonight’s little jaunt to Manchester House, I don’t think you should count upon going, for I rather fancy you will find yourself otherwise occupied.”