Redeeming a Rake

by Cari Hislop

  “Tell me of Mrs Spencer, not the cursed sofa!”

  “Yes of course Your Grace, well…when she stepped into the room she looked excited, giddy. Her eyes were sparkling and there was a definite bounce in her step until she saw me. She stopped dead and stared at me with dismay. I believe she was expecting you, Your Grace.”

  “What?” Geoffrey nearly choked on his breath. “Why the devil do you think that?”

  “Well…when the footman opened the front door I handed him your card and didn’t get any farther than saying your name when he closed the door. I was left on the front steps for fifteen minutes and then escorted to the drawing room.”

  “She let me in?” Williams shivered with fear at the wet velvety words. Would the Duke of Lyndhurst kill him for witnessing private embarrassing emotions? “What was she wearing?”

  “Well…she wore a black high-waisted silk gown with a modest neckline hidden under a transparent white silk scarf. Her hair, well…it was covered by a fitted white cap with black ribbons. For someone so pale I would have thought the black and white to have washed her out, but they actually accentuated her colouring. She looked quite healthy with bright pink cheeks. She smiled on hearing that you’d sent me and well, I’ve never seen anything so… How can someone so plain be so beautiful? I’ve never seen anyone like her.”

  “What happened next?”

  “She took your gift away and returned twenty minutes later looking pleased…well, comforted might be a better word. She said she’d sit as long as I needed, but insisted I eat something and rest for an hour while she changed. Two hours later I started sketching her in the pale blue dress you see in the drawings with a pale blue ribbon entwined in her hair. I thought it particularly odd that she chose to wear such an old ribbon, but ladies often assume artists aren’t going to notice these little details.

  “Are you sure it was pale blue? You weren’t drunk and seeing things?”

  “Drunk on a job? Well…heaven forbid…I can’t work when I’m drunk. I remarked that a darker ribbon might make a stronger affect, but she just smiled and said she wished to wear that particular ribbon.” Williams didn’t know what else to say and stared at the floor praying he’d survive the experience as the room fell silent for several agonising minutes.

  “Open the desk drawer. There’s a purse in the back left corner.”

  “As you wish Your Grace!” Williams slowly opened the drawer to find nothing deadlier than a penknife. There was only one purse in the drawer, a heavy leather purse. Williams opened the draw string and looked inside with amazement. There had to be twice the money he’d asked for. “Thank you Your Grace!”

  “No, thank you Mr Williams; I’m well pleased with your work.” Williams let out a sigh of relief and bowing respectfully disappeared as quickly as his legs could carry him.

  Geoffrey’s heart threatened to burst from his chest as he stared at the image of his angel. He slowly picked up the top portrait and set it aside to see her with a thoughtful expression from a different perspective. Had she spent the whole sitting thinking of him? Was she resolved to make him suffer just because he didn’t deserve her? It wasn’t until the bottom of the pile that he found a sketch of his angel smiling like the sun, her eyes looking straight into his heart. His legs collapsed underneath him as he fell into his chair. Seeing her on paper made him long to see her in the flesh. His first impulse was to order the carriage. If she’d let him in once she’d let him in again, but would his presence give her another reason to distrust him? How could he convince her that he was her knight in pale blue velvet not the Devil? There was only one thing he could think of that might persuade the angel that he really wanted to change, that he wasn’t just trying to get her into his bed. He knew Lady Penelope was residing in London; he just had to get up the nerve to call on the woman. The thought made his stomach ache and his head throb. He had no desire to revisit the unpleasant past or admit he’d been a heartless blackguard, but he had even less desire to spend another year as a single man. Completing the list might convince his Angel to give him another chance.

  Chapter 25

  Tolerance smiled at her picture of Geoffrey propped up on her desk and opened the longed for letter. She carried the picture everywhere she went, but reading his thoughts was always better than looking at his picture and wondering what he was thinking.

  Dearest Angel,

  I’d almost forgotten how beautiful you are. I long to kiss you…everywhere a gentleman is allowed to publicly salute the woman he adores, of course. I thought having your image would ease this hollow ache, but I miss you even more than I did fifteen minutes ago. Before Mr William’s arrival I was in bed daydreaming of my angel soothing my brow. I feel like an earthworm that’s crawled out of damp soil to keep from drowning only to be stepped on by a blind gardener. I know I’m a worm, but I wish that I could lie in the dirt at your feet where the sun always shines with kindness. My head hurts. Forgive me if I sound like a lunatic. It’s only because I miss you. I am trying to change. I’m trying to deserve you even though I know I never can. I never want to deserve that frozen look a second time. I long to see you smile at me, as you smiled at the other Geoffrey.

  I shall now have to try to convince myself that Mr Williams was exaggerating and that you wouldn’t really be happy to see me in your drawing room or I may do something foolish. Oh my aching head, I wish it would stop pounding so I could express properly how I feel. I pray this finds you in better health than it leaves me. I long to kiss your blushing cheeks and soft velvety lips. I beg you to send word that I may come and see your smile. On my honour you shall find me a perfect gentleman. I shall prostrate myself at your feet and revel in the privilege.

  Your obedient and humbled servant,

  Geoffrey

  Tolerance had to restrain herself from jumping out of her chair, running out into the hall and shouting for the servants to prepare the carriage to carry her to London. She wanted to be caressing his aching head without delay. She shook herself to clear the delirium. The man wasn’t living in the small medieval house. She couldn’t march into his town house and climb the stairs to his bedchamber, even if he wanted her to. Tolerance took a deep breath and started counting down from ten thousand until she felt almost calm again. She had to be strong. She’d only been away from London for several months even if it did feel like several years. She slowly pulled out a piece of paper and dipped her quill as she took a deep breath. What would happen if he did come? Her insides lurched with pleasure at the thought. The answer was simple; she’d get to see her friend. Her quill pen squeaked across the paper as she allowed herself to indulge in one mad impulse. She sent off the letter before she could change her mind and decided that she was going to enjoy the rest of the day outside with her son. The summer sun lit up the sky long into the evening, casting shadows across a serene landscape. It was the perfect day to dig weeds out of the flower beds and chase her son around the shrubs. With her heart free of an unwanted burden, she hummed a waltz as she carried Geoffrey’s portrait back up to her room. If he received her letter within the next three days she might see him within a week. It was an intoxicating thought. The servants raised disapproving eyebrows as she whirled past smiling to herself. Whispers flew past the linen cupboards and through the laundry rooms into the kitchen that the fallen Mrs Spencer was pregnant with the Devil’s child. Why else would a woman who loved wearing colour resign herself to so much heavy black and go about dancing like a lunatic?

  Later that night Tolerance skipped into the dream garden hoping to find her friend, but it was empty. Several hours later she heard a faint creak from the wooden gate. “Geoffrey! Come look at these blooms. I’m sure they were a different colour yesterday. Geoffrey?” She turned to see if he’d emerged into the garden but it was empty. “Geoffrey is that you? Am I talking to the wind again?” Her only answer was the slight shuddering of the bush. It was probably a squirrel. She returned to examining the flowers and humming a cheerful tune. A few minutes later sh
e nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard a strange noise. She turned to see the part of the yew that made up the tunnel entrance to the garden slightly shaking again. She brushed off her hands and got to her feet and slowly approached the entrance. She peered around the side into the cool dark arbour to see her friend standing with his back to the garden, his face turned into the yew tree. “Is something the matter?” He didn’t reply. She reached out and touched his back.

  “Don’t touch me.” She ignored the imperious command and wrapped an arm around his waist and waited. “I don’t deserve love or kindness and I certainly don’t deserve you.”

  “Why?”

  “I completed the list. I wanted to be worthy of you, but all I did was prove I never can be.”

  “Did you hurt Lady Penelope?”

  “No. I told her that I’d come to apologise for what I did to her. I knelt on one knee and begged her forgiveness. She laughed and asked if it was true that I’d forgotten the last few years. I told her I couldn’t remember the last four years and that I didn’t think it at all funny. She replied, ‘I think it particularly amusing that you can’t remember falling in love with your precious Widow Spencer. I understand she’s left London. Would it surprise you to know she’s received an anonymous letter detailing your sins? It was a lengthy list.’ I could bear her insults directed at me, but then she started sneering unrepeatable slander about you.’ The angrier I became the more she laughed. She said she was the one who attacked me and dared me to take revenge on her revenge. She said she’d enjoyed kicking me in the head. She said she’d wade through hell to destroy my last hope of happiness. I was imagining my hands around her throat when she said…nine months after I…she gave birth to a boy with pale blue eyes. She said he was smothered by his drunken wet-nurse. I wouldn’t leave a dog in that woman’s care and I gave her a child. I killed my own child.”

  “Geoffrey…Lady Penelope may have made the child up, but even if she didn’t she was the one who put the child into the care of a slut. You can remain on the road to depravity or you can turn and take another road. You can change. As long as you are breathing there’s still time to become a better man.”

  “I’ve been a devil too long. How can I ever be good after the things I’ve done? You know I don’t deserve you.”

  “Find the boy you used to be and save him. Lady Penelope was damaged by what happened to her. You did say her brother beat her black and blue; she’s probably not right in the head. I wouldn’t be if I was her…”

  “I would never have hurt you. I’d have made you my wife…you’d have hated me.”

  “It doesn’t matter what might have been, only what was. You set off a chain of events that nearly killed Lady Penelope. What you did cut out her heart; hate is probably the only thing she can feel. I’m glad she knows you sincerely regret hurting her even if she doesn’t believe you. You can’t change what you’ve done, but you can change what you’ll do. Help her if the opportunity arises.”

  “She wouldn’t accept my help and I wouldn’t expect her to.”

  “She doesn’t have to know it’s you helping her. Don’t let her hate dictate your destiny. Do you want to be the man she thinks you are or the man I know you can be?”

  “I want to be the man you love.” Geoffrey turned to face her, but stared past her shoulder. “My feelings for you are so strong they frighten me. I wish I could be worthy of you. I thought that if I completed the list…”

  “The list had nothing to do with being worthy of me. It was a tool to help you heal. I don’t love you any less then yesterday or two years ago.”

  “I don’t disgust you?”

  “No, but if you’re going to spend the rest of your life hiding in the bushes being morose I might think twice about becoming your wife. I’ve never been partial to sleeping rough. I’ll gaze at the moon with you, but don’t ask me to sleep under the stars with biting insects or you’ll be waking alone.” His lips twitched as if he didn’t think he deserved to smile. “Give me your hand.” He stared at her throat for several long seconds before his eyes inched up to meet her gaze. “I thought you said you’d do anything to make me happy…”

  “I don’t remember saying that.”

  “You don’t remember a lot of things…like how you called on me the morning after we met and ended up with clotted cream on your face.”

  “I don’t eat clotted cream.”

  “So you never said you’d do anything to make me happy, but you have said you’d do anything to win my love and I choose to translate that as letting me hold your hand.” She entwined her fingers with his larger ones and forcefully pulled him into the garden.

  “I’m not in the mood to be happy.”

  “You will be…close your eyes and count to one hundred and don’t skip numbers like last time or I’ll push you into the fish pond. If you find me…you can have a kiss.”

  “Only one?”

  “If you’re in a mood to be happy you might wake up with sore lips. Cover your eyes and don’t look…”

  “I can hear you laughing…you’re heading for the mint edged path…that means you’ll be hiding behind that large box hedge…I’m sure I’ve counted to one hundred…”

  “And I hear the fish laughing!”

  “The poor fish are blushing. Push me in and I’ll dry my clothes on a bush…here I come. You’d better not be hiding under the large yew tree again…it’s freezing under there…”

  “It’s so cold it makes your lips feel warm…” The fish ignored the odd shriek of laughter and running feet as they concentrated on blowing perfect bubbles, unaware that their sanctum had been briefly endangered.

  Chapter 26

  Geoffrey woke to find himself twisted uncomfortably in his bedclothes. His nightshirt added to the torment by lumping under the small of his back, but he was smiling. He closed his eyes and replayed the last hour of the night spent lying on the ground with his head on his angel’s lap as she ran her fingers through his hair. He kicked himself free and rolled out of bed as if he could escape the bittersweet wave of desire. Ignoring his lust, he ran his hands over his unshaven cheeks and thought about his angel’s advice. To free himself of the feelings of guilt he needed to do good things for other people, especially people he didn’t like. He’d start with doing something for his angel, but what could he do? He wanted to do something special, something that would make her smile, but what? The thought made his head ache reminding him that for the first time in weeks his head had felt normal. He rang the bell and paced back and forth waiting for Howard to trudge up the stairs. Every day it took the old man longer to answer the bell. Suddenly Geoffrey knew what good thing he’d do that day. He was smiling as Howard shuffled into the room.

  “You rang Your Grace.”

  “How old are you Howard?”

  “Seventy-three years Your Grace.”

  “Really? You’re that old?”

  “Yes Your Grace.”

  “Haven’t you ever thought of retiring?”

  “I was hoping I’d die while employed Your Grace, then my granddaughter could inherit my savings.”

  “You had a child?”

  “I married young Your Grace. She had beautiful brown eyes I couldn’t resist.”

  “Ah yes, beautiful eyes…I’ll have Hawkings arrange a settlement that will ensure you don’t have to use your savings. Help me dress this morning and then consider your self a free man. You can stay in the house until the settlement is completed if you wish. I shall have to engage a valet after all these years, unless one of the footmen can be persuaded to take on the duty. You know I detest dressing in front of strangers.” Geoffrey’s smile widened as he imagined his angel doing up his buttons. “Howard, what would you do for a woman you wanted to impress?”

  “Am I wanting to impress a courtesan or a lady Your Grace?”

  “Mrs Spencer.”

  “I would do something for her that she couldn’t do for herself Your Grace.”