Never Trust a Rebel

by Sarah Mallory - Never Trust a Rebel

  ‘Does he love you?’

  * * *

  Elyse blinked. She had not been expecting such a direct question.

  ‘Of course.’ Her eyes slid away from his searching look as she pushed aside the vision of William and the housemaid. ‘Why else would he have offered for me?’ She added defiantly, ‘I know the truth now. I know of the wager, and why the viscount allowed the match. William told me of it, to assure me it made no difference to him.’ She recalled Lady Whittlewood’s words. ‘He was smitten from the first, you see.’

  ‘And do you love him?’

  She felt the prickle of tears behind her eyes. This was intolerable. He had no right to question her like this.

  ‘I do. Now pray let me return to the party.’

  He caught her arm as she tried to walk past him.

  ‘I do not believe you. The way you responded to my kiss—’

  Her head went up.

  ‘That was merely a—a foolish, lustful interlude. It had nothing to do with love.’

  ‘And what do you know of that?’ he demanded angrily. ‘You think yourself in love with a boy you met when you were seventeen and whom you did not see again until a few weeks ago.’

  ‘I know more of love than you,’ she flashed. ‘You know only lust and seduction and deceit.’ She pulled herself free from his grasp. ‘Tell me, was I still at Hartcombe when you learned that you were a free man?’

  ‘What?’ He looked at her as if her question had caught him off-guard. ‘Yes, my father told me, the day before we left.’

  The day he had made love to her in the pavilion.

  ‘But you kept the truth from me.’

  He rubbed a hand over his eyes. ‘What good would it have done to tell you?’

  ‘And you persuaded Sir Edward not to say anything?’

  ‘I did. I did not wish him to—’ He spread his hands. ‘It was not important. You were coming to Bath to marry Reverson.’

  A chill ran through Elyse, as if there was ice in her blood.

  ‘You are right,’ she said stiffly. ‘I am going to marry William. Did you think your scorn that morning was not rejection enough? Perhaps you were afraid I would cling to you even more if I had known you were no longer an outlaw.’

  ‘No! I did not know then—’

  She broke across his protest, unheeding. ‘You are despicable. I am only thankful that after tonight I need never see you again.’ She dashed a hand across her eyes. ‘Now, let me go back to my fiancé.’

  ‘And if I said I loved you?’

  His words hit her battered heart like heavy stones. What was he trying to do? Was he merely taunting her, or did he want to establish her as his flirt, his lover even before she was married? He was testing her, playing his rakish games, but she would not rise to the bait. Misery and anger was a potent mix, but it kept her tears at bay and allowed her to speak with unwavering and icy deliberation.

  ‘You have my sympathy, but you can hardly expect me to rejoice at such a declaration. It is as unwelcome as it is unlooked for.’

  His eyes were blazing and she stepped back, out of reach. If he dragged her into his arms and kissed her now he would know she was lying. She loved him with an intensity that terrified her. She summoned up the last shreds of control.

  ‘Please leave now, Mr Castlemain. It is best if we do not meet again.’

  * * *

  Drew saw her step away from him; saw the fear in her eyes and silently cursed himself for seven kinds of fool. For a man famed for his address he had handled this very badly. He had intended to suggest to her in a reasoned way that she need not marry Reverson, that she need not marry anyone, if she didn’t wish to do so. Then he had planned to declare himself, to tell her that his hand and his heart were hers for the taking. Instead he had blurted out his feelings like any mooncalf and she had recoiled in disgust. He reached out for her.

  ‘Elyse, I—’

  She turned away from him.

  ‘Just go. For pity’s sake leave me!’

  Her anguished whisper cut him to the quick. His hand dropped back to his side.

  ‘I will inflict my presence upon you no longer,’ he said quietly. ‘I wish you every happiness, Miss Salforde, and ask you to believe that I am, now and always, your obedient servant.’

  * * *

  Elyse heard the door close and knew she was alone.

  I will not cry.

  It was tempting to throw herself down in a chair and give way to her misery but Elyse knew that if she wept now she might not be able to stop. Without giving herself time to consider what had just occurred she went swiftly back to the reception. Pride would not allow her to show an unhappy face in such a gathering and she stretched her mouth into a smile that soon made her cheeks ache. The room was as noisy and crowded as when she had left it. She spotted Drew’s dark head immediately, her glance drawn in his direction as if by some force of magnetism. He was making his way towards the door but his progress was slow, impeded by well-wishers, smiling and bowing, anxious to welcome him back into society.

  She dragged her eyes away from him. His future was assured, as was hers. She would think of him no more.

  But when did Sir Edward tell him about the pardon? It could not have been before he found me in the pavilion.

  ‘I did not know then…’

  She pressed her fingers to her temples. She would not think of him. A brief break in the crowd gave her a glimpse of William standing with his friends on the far side of the room and she made her way across to him. The group stood by themselves, the other guests having moved away and Elyse soon realised why. The immoderate laughter and reddened faces of the young bucks suggested they had been imbibing freely. Even William was looking a little heated and when he saw her his words of greeting were suspiciously slurred.

  ‘Ah, and here is my blushing bride. Come along and meet my friends my dear. Almondsbury, Pendle, Griffin, make your bows to Miss Salforde.’

  The young men attempted flourishing bows with varying degrees of success. Mr Almondsbury straightened and raised his quizzing glass, subjecting her to a prolonged scrutiny. Mr Griffin came forwards to take her hand.

  ‘Ah, fair lady! ’T-T-Tis an honour to meet you at last.’

  She regarded him as he bowed over her fingers, a slight frown creasing her brow.

  ‘Have we met before, sir? In Scarborough, perhaps?’

  He unbent and there was no mistaking the alarm in his rather protuberant eyes. It put her on her guard.

  ‘S-S-Scarborough, oh, d-dear me, no, Miss—’

  She snatched her hand away.

  ‘It was you,’ she exclaimed. ‘You were one of the attackers.’

  Her horrified glance swung from Mr Griffin to William, who began to bluster loudly, but the reaction of the other gentlemen gave the lie to his denials. Elyse looked about her. Everyone was still resolutely ignoring them. Such was the noise in the room she doubted if anyone could overhear their conversation.

  ‘Did you think it a good joke?’ she demanded in a furious undertone.

  ‘I said we shouldn’t take loaded pistols,’ muttered Mr Pendle.

  ‘Be quiet,’ snapped William. ‘Elyse, this is not the time to discuss this.’

  ‘Oh, and when would you suggest we discussed it?’ she retorted. ‘I want to know which of you wounded Mr Castlemain.’

  She glared at the little group, who shuffled uncomfortably beneath her stern gaze.

  ‘I regret to say that was me,’ admitted Mr Pendle. ‘But only after he had fired at Almondsbury.’

  ‘He pinked me,’ complained that gentleman, holding up his right hand to show a healing gash on the side of his palm.

  Elyse was not impressed. ‘You could have killed him. How dare you! It is a good thing Mr Nash has decreed you do not wear your swords in Bath or I would use yours to run you through.’

  Mr Pendle blanched and retreated in the face of such blazing anger. She turned towards William. ‘And the coachman, was he a part of your plans? He s
aid Lord Whittlewood had paid him to drive us to Bath.’

  ‘My father had nothing to do with it,’ said William quickly. ‘It was entirely my notion. I knew from the start that my father’s plan would not work. If you had come all the way from the north then you would not be put off by a few extra miles to travel to Bath. We decided we must try to stop you.’

  ‘We? Your friends were a party to this?’ her scorching glare encompassed all four of them.

  ‘Yes. I told Settle how it would be if you followed us.’

  ‘Settle knew you were going to attack the coach?’ she asked, incredulous. It certainly explained why he had been avoiding her since her arrival in Queen Square. ‘And he did nothing to stop you?’

  William’s scowl deepened. ‘He had no choice, short of telling my father, and he has always been too loyal to me for that. Settle thought he could delay you if he said he was ill, but that dashed guardian of yours was determined to fulfil the contract.’

  ‘And he was seriously injured for his troubles,’ said Elyse, her anger against Drew fast disappearing. ‘What a despicable thing to do, William!’

  ‘What does it matter?’ demanded Griffin peevishly. ‘The fellow’s a dashed traitor.’

  ‘He has been granted a full pardon.’ Elyse flashed back. ‘He a free man, and a far more honourable one than any of you.’

  He was closeted with his father while I was in the kitchen. Perhaps that was when he learned of it.

  ‘It was an accident, we never meant you any harm,’ said William in a sulky tone. ‘I will arrange for the baggage to be returned, anonymously, of course. And Castlemain’s purse, too.’

  ‘That is the very least you can do,’ she told him angrily. ‘Whatever were you thinking of, to try such a trick?’

  William’s scowl deepened. ‘We merely planned to hold you at Griffin’s house for a week or so, until Michaelmas passed and the contract was breached.’

  She stared at him in dismay.

  ‘Oh, William. Are you so averse to marrying me?’

  ‘I had not seen you for three years,’ he protested. ‘You are a stranger to me.’

  ‘But your letters!’

  He shrugged. ‘While our marriage was but some vague future event it was easy to write, but as the time grew closer I began to regret my rash promise. Father would not let me cry off, or give you any hint that I was reluctant to wed you.’

  ‘Dear Miss Salforde, Reverson is but a few months older than yourself,’ cried Mr Almondsbury, jumping to the defence of his friend. ‘He is too young to be setting up his own nursery.’

  ‘He is right,’ declared William. ‘There is much I wish to do.’

  ‘Oh?’ she countered with deceptive sweetness, ‘like kissing housemaids, perhaps?’

  ‘You know that is not what I mean. I had intended to go on the Grand Tour, for example.’

  ‘I see no reason why you should not still do that.’ She added, determined to be cheerful, ‘We might go together.’

  ‘Impossible.’

  ‘Why?’ Elyse bridled at William’s swift dismissal. ‘I should like to travel just as much as you.’

  ‘I am not free to settle down. I must travel constantly.’

  Drew’s words came back to her. She was certain now that he could not have known about the pardon when he uttered them.

  ‘Once we are married you will remain in Berkshire with the children,’ declared William. ‘I have no doubt you will like to have a large family, but of course that will preclude your going abroad.’ He looked up. ‘Enough of this, we have been talking here too long and my father is beckoning to us.’ William held out his arm to her. ‘Come along, Elyse. I am very sorry for what occurred. We all are, but the terms of the contract have been met, so tomorrow you and I are to be married and we must resign ourselves to the fact.’

  * * *

  Elyse was too angry and distracted to resign herself to anything. Sir Edward must have told Drew about the pardon while she was in the kitchen with Mrs Parfitt. Why did Drew not come to tell her afterwards? If he loved her, surely he would have told her. Unless…

  Her thoughts racing, she accompanied William through the crowd to where Lord and Lady Whittlewood were standing. She looked around the room but there was no sign of Drew. Lady Whittlewood put out her hand to draw her son closer and Elyse turned to the viscount.

  ‘My lord, you are fully conversant with the terms of the settlements, are you not?’

  ‘Naturally, but I do not think this is the place to discuss—’

  She interrupted him ruthlessly.

  ‘And it is impossible for William to withdraw from the marriage?’

  ‘Quite impossible. If the marriage does not go ahead then the full sum agreed in the settlement would go to you.’ The viscount looked grim and shook his head at her. ‘Your father drove a hard bargain, Miss Salforde.’

  She fixed her eyes upon him. ‘But what if I were to cry off?’

  His thin brows went up. ‘You? But why should you do that? This is an excellent match for you.’

  ‘Nevertheless, what penalties are in place should I withdraw?’

  ‘Why, none. Your father and I never contemplated such an eventuality. His lack of fortune made it irrelevant.’

  She met his eyes with a steady gaze.

  ‘As I understand it, the sum at stake is considerable. Twenty thousand pounds, to be exact.’

  His brows snapped together.

  ‘Who told you that?’

  ‘William let it slip. Our marriage is payment of a gambling debt, is it not?’

  ‘I think we would prefer not to mention that, my dear.’

  ‘You are right.’ She smiled. ‘I do not intend to think of it again.’

  She stepped away a little and took a deep breath. A sudden lull in the noise around them seemed providential. She raised her head and proclaimed in a ringing voice.

  ‘My Lord and Lady Whittlewood, I am very conscious of the honour you do me, but I regret that I cannot marry your son.’ The lull became a stunned silence. She turned to William. ‘I am very sorry, Mr Reverson, if this gives you pain.’ She tugged the diamond ring from her finger and held it out to him. Automatically he put out his hand to receive it. She smiled at him. ‘I hope one day we may be friends.’

  Elyse turned and hurried towards the door, the crowd parting silently to let her pass. William had been staring, perplexed, at the ring lying in his hand but now he looked up.

  ‘Elyse! Where are you going?’

  She glanced back.

  ‘To find happiness, if it is not too late.’

  * * *

  When Drew left Elyse the clatter of dishes and cacophony of voices suggested that the backstairs would be swarming with servants. He had no choice but to return to the reception and make his way through the crowds to the door. His progress was impeded by the number of his father’s acquaintances waiting to pounce on him. They wanted to wish him well and enquire after his family. He thought bitterly that Lord Whittlewood’s intention to help re-establish the good name of Castlemain had been only too successful. Duty dictated that he bury his hurt and impatience and respond civilly to each and every one of them.

  At last he escaped and ran down the stairs, curtly ordering his carriage. A servant was despatched immediately, but with such a crush of guests he suspected that his coachman would have had to go some way to find a spot where he could wait without blocking the road. He paced the hall, impatient to be away before anyone came downstairs in search of supper. He should not have come. His father was wrong about Elyse. She might have loved him, if he had courted her properly and treated her with respect. Perhaps then she might have considered him as a serious rival to Reverson.

  He thought of the way she had responded to him in the pavilion, the melting look in her eyes. He could have offered for her then. She would have accepted him and thought the world well lost. Instead he had done everything in his power to disgust her.

  ‘Fool,’ he muttered furiously. ‘Imbecile
.’

  A lackey bringing Drew’s hat and cloak stopped and began to back away.

  ‘Not you,’ said Drew irritably.

  There was a sudden burst of noise from above as the drawing-room door opened and it was with relief that he heard the footman announce that his carriage had arrived. He grabbed his hat and cloak and headed for the door. He wanted to be gone from this damned place without speaking to another soul.

  * * *

  The flaring torches outside the viscount’s residence lighted his way to the coach and Drew climbed in, feeling very weary. He would be able to tell his father that his reception in Bath had been more than cordial, but he himself would not count the evening a success, because he had come away without Elyse.

  He threw himself back in a corner and closed his eyes, anxious to be home. Suddenly the commotion outside became louder. He heard the squeak of the handle as the door opened, felt the carriage rock and heard the whoosh of a whirlwind. He opened his eyes to discover it was not a whirlwind but a rustling cloud of grey silk.

  ‘Elyse!’ He sat up with a jolt. ‘What the devil—?’

  She fell on to the empty seat opposite him as the carriage set off, saying breathlessly, ‘I am so glad I did not miss you.’

  Before he could form a reply she leaned forwards and slapped him, hard, across the face.

  Chapter Twelve

  ‘You are the greatest knave that has ever drawn breath, Drew Castlemain!’

  Drew peered into the darkness, trying to see the termagant sitting opposite him. They had driven out of Queen Square and now there was only the sliver of moon riding high above them to light the way. The shadows inside the carriage were inky black.

  ‘I think I must be,’ he murmured, rubbing his cheek. ‘I don’t think you have broken my jaw.’

  ‘It would serve you right if I had,’ she told him furiously. ‘Why did you keep your pardon a secret from me?’

  Drew leaned back. He was bemused, but somewhere deep inside his heart was singing like a lark. Elyse was here, in his carriage and they were on their way to Hartcombe.