How to Sin Successfully (Rakes Beyond Redemption)

by Scott, Bronwyn

  Maura drew the children to her in the lurching carriage, thankful not to be bound and unable to console them. Cecilia was sobbing uncontrollably.

  ‘Shut her up,’ the man growled, shoving the second pistol back into the waistband of his pants. He snarled at Will, ‘Don’t even think it, boyo. You’re no match for me. You try any funny business and you’ll end up in that sarcophagus you were admiring so much.’

  Maura put an arm about Will in comfort and stared down their captor. ‘Who are you and where are you taking us?’

  He smiled meanly. ‘My name is Digby. You know where we’re going—back where you belong.’ It was no answer. Did that mean all the way to Exeter? Was her uncle here in the city?

  This was all her fault, Maura thought with a sinking feeling, and now others were going to pay for her rashness. She’d managed to get Riordan’s wards kidnapped. If word of this got out, it would ruin his chances to keep them. He couldn’t possibly marry her now. Nor would he want to. She was nothing but trouble and he needed stability above all else.

  ‘And the children? There’s no need for them to be involved.’

  Digby’s words were cold. ‘They’re collateral, to make sure you don’t do anything stupid. You don’t think the earl will come racing after you, do you?

  Once he finds out how you’ve deceived him and endangered his wards, he’ll be all too glad to let you go in exchange for their return.’ He added nastily, ‘Then you can go ahead and marry Wildeham and all the loose ends will be tied up, just like you. I hear Wildeham likes a bit of rope.’ He glanced at the children. ‘This is what happens, mateys, when you tell lies. Someone always finds out.’

  *

  This was what falling in love did to a man, Riordan thought with a light heart as he approached the offices of Vale’s solicitors. It made a man feel invincible. Or maybe it was Maura. She made him feel invincible. He didn’t fear what lay beyond these doors. He and Browning would listen patiently to Vale’s formal accusations and then he’d squash Vale’s hopes with his announcement. Riordan chuckled to himself, Browning falling into step beside him from where he’d stood waiting. It would feel good to put Vale in his place.

  Riordan pushed open the door to the assigned room. He and Browning were the last to arrive. A long polished table dominated the centre of the panelled room, chairs lined on either side. At the head of the table sat the Honourable Franklin DeWitt, bewigged and robed, arbiter of his fate. DeWitt had a reputation for tradition. He wasn’t likely to go against a standing order from a peer without extraordinary compunction.

  On the far side of the room, Viscount Vale and his team, his rather extensive team, were already gathered behind their chairs. Riordan recognised the weasel and his assistant from earlier meetings, but the other face was unknown.

  ‘I see introductions are in order.’ Vale stepped forwards, gesturing to the stranger with the grey-streaked dark hair and hard eyes. The man looked positively menacing. ‘This is Baron Wildeham. He has information relevant to our discussion today.’

  Riordan’s fists clenched silently at his sides, his stomach cold with apprehension.

  The awful man, the man Maura had run from.

  ‘You might know him better as a relation of your current governess, Miss Harding.’ Vale paused for effect. ‘I’m sorry; you would know her as Miss Caulfield.’

  Riordan’s blood started to heat. He opted not to play the polite aristocrat.

  ‘You’re the scheming bastard who claimed her for a gambling debt.’

  Wildeham didn’t flinch. A small, icy smile flitted on his lips. ‘Is that what she told you?’ He turned towards DeWitt, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘As you can see, we are just in time.’

  ‘In time for what?’ Riordan gauged the width of the table, wondering if he could leap it and get a punch in before someone dragged him off the baron.

  Vale tossed him a sympathetic look. Riordan decided he’d plant Vale a facer next, then they’d see who needed sympathy. ‘Why, to keep you from committing a most atrocious crime, unintentional as it is, dear cousin.’

  ‘And what might that be?’ Riordan ground out.

  ‘Bigamy.’ Vale fired off the word with the force of a cannon ball. ‘Even you haven’t tried that one on yet.’

  Riordan crossed his arms in a defiant stance. ‘Rubbish. There is no bigamy here.

  She is not married to him.’

  ‘Gentlemen, please,’ Franklin DeWitt counselled swiftly to abort a brawl.

  ‘Remember your stations. This is clearly a complicated matter. If everyone would take their seats, we could sort through this from the beginning.’

  Riordan sat reluctantly, his gaze fixed between Wildeham and Vale. He’d been right when he’d told Maura this was going to be messy. But he’d been wrong about the reasons. This hearing wasn’t going to be about dredging up his disreputable past. It was going to be about Maura’s.

  Vale’s solicitor began, all earnestness and sympathy. ‘We would like to acknowledge Lord Chatham’s attempts to take a bride and put a maternal presence in his home. However, it is unfortunate that he has chosen poorly. The woman he intends to wed is not a suitable candidate. She is contracted to wed another. She is in no position to contract such an agreement with you, Lord Chatham, while that agreement stands. We regret you have fallen victim to her wiles.’

  Riordan watched Vale’s posture change as the sympathy fell away from his solicitor’s tone. Something was coming, something Vale felt certain would be a blow. ‘However, your honour, this latest escapade of Lord Chatham’s is further illustration of his rather erratic behaviour and bad judgement.’

  Riordan stiffened. DeWitt raised his brows. ‘Please explain.’

  ‘He intends to marry his governess. He’s engaged in flirtatious behaviour with her, if not more. It’s not seemly conduct for a gentleman.’

  ‘This is ridiculous!’ Riordan broke in. ‘Either I seduced her or she seduced me, you can’t have it both ways. Don’t stand there defending her honour and then in the next breath malign her lack of it.’

  Wildeham gave a sad look. ‘This is typical of Maura. She sucks a gentleman in so deeply one cannot really know how one arrived at this place where one wants only to defend her. She plays the innocent so well.’

  ‘I’ve had enough of this.’ Riordan turned towards DeWitt. ‘Miss Caulfield is an upstanding young woman of perfectly marriageable background for a fellow of my standing. If she fled, it was because her uncle meant to use her as payment against her will. If anyone is of questionable character at this table, it’s Wildeham.

  No gentleman encourages such a dishonourable arrangement.’

  Riordan cast a glance at Browning and mouthed, Do something. Maura had warned him this would happen, that her past would catch up with her. He hadn’t thought it would happen so soon. He was regretting not marrying her yesterday.

  A special licence would have done the trick, but for once in his life, he’d opted to do the right thing. To offset rumour, to shut the mouths of gossipmongers, he’d wanted to wait a decent interval for the wedding so no one could say he’d married in haste. He’d wanted it for Maura’s sake and the children’s. He didn’t care what society said about him. Now, he wished he’d bound her to him legally no matter what the rumours.

  ‘I’d like a word with the baron, if you please.’ Riordan stood and motioned they should adjourn to a private antechamber. Riordan shut the door behind him and faced Wildeham squarely. It took all his restraint to pretend a modicum of neutrality.

  ‘The gloves are off now. You are owed money. Fine. I’ll pay her uncle’s debt. In return, you rip up the marital agreement and drop your slander against Maura.

  How much is the bill?’ It was a dangerous road to go down with a man like Wildeham. If he could get money this way, what would stop him from extracting more in the future?

  Wildeham snorted. ‘You’ve been bitten hard by that strawberry tart of Harding’s. What a man in love won’t do. She’s really got her
hooks into you.’ He sneered. ‘Have you had her already? How is that strawberry pie?’

  Riordan snapped. He topped Wildeham by a head. He grabbed the shorter man by the lapels and hauled him up against the wall. ‘You will not speak that way about her again without risking pistols at dawn. Now, about that bill?’

  ‘It’s not that simple, Chatham.’ Wildeham grunted, sagging a bit against the relief of being let go. ‘I don’t want money. I want her. I have papers. She’s mine.

  A court will side with me—the intent of the papers are clear.’

  ‘Maura didn’t sign them,’ Riordan said tersely.

  ‘Harding signed on her behalf, as her guardian until she’s twenty-three. It’s as good as her signature.’ Wildeham’s eyes narrowed. ‘Your little marriage gambit has cost you everything. You picked the wrong wife and now you’ll lose the children and the girl.’

  Riordan stared at the man. He could imagine quite well the agreement Wildeham had with Vale. If the two of them could bring the Earl of Chatham down, that’s exactly what would happen. Vale would have the children and Wildeham would have Maura. Cold fingers of fear clamped about his stomach.

  What else did this man have in motion?

  Riordan shook his head. ‘No.’

  ‘No?’ Wildeham looked at him incredulously. ‘No?’

  ‘Did I stutter?’ He would plant the man a facer, DeWitt’s code of gentlemanly conduct be damned. ‘I will not accept that outcome.’

  Wildeham gave an oily smile. ‘You don’t have to accept it, it’s already a fait accompli. I thought you might not agree with my position. With luck, I’ve already got her.’

  ‘You don’t scare me.’

  ‘Maybe I should. Let me know after you get home.’

  Chapter Twenty

  It was all bravado on his part, Riordan thought, listening to the talks going on about him. Browning was doing his job and the discussions had dwindled to nothing conclusive. Wildeham had been quiet since they’d returned from the antechamber, but his words still haunted Riordan, gaining power in his mind as he replayed the threat over again.

  Riordan told himself it was nothing. Wildeham had meant to scare him. If he hadn’t been convinced Wildeham wanted him to go running out of the chamber and race home, he would have done just that. He wanted to assure himself Maura and the children were safe. If he gave in, Wildeham would know just how deeply his feelings ran and then use that in some new perverse deal. He checked his watch. Four o’clock. The afternoon was gone and nothing had been decided.

  ‘Settle this up,’ he whispered to Browning. DeWitt could decide nothing today. As long as things remained at a stalemate, Riordan hadn’t lost. There was still a chance to win, but he was going to need reinforcements.

  ‘I will need time to consider the contract between Miss Harding and Baron Wildeham,’ DeWitt said in tones that signalled the discussions were at an end for now.

  ‘I trust this won’t take a long time?’ Vale put in. ‘My wife and I are eager to see the children in a stable home as soon as possible. The longer this takes...’ His voice trailed off.

  DeWitt fixed him with a stern look. ‘It will take as long as it needs to, my lord.

  Justice does not run on a clock. There were many accusations made today that need substantiation if you want them to be considered. A peer of the realm has left a legitimate will. You risk much by seeking to tamper with its provisions.’

  Riordan hid a smile. It was a small scrap from the table of the British legal system, but he’d feast on it. Once outside, he turned to Browning. ‘You’ve got Vale’s financial statements? We’ll need to roll those out to prove he’s after the trust funds. Once DeWitt sees how indebted Vale is, Vale will lose momentum.’

  ‘And Miss Caulfield? Is there anything I can do there?’

  ‘I’ll talk to her when I get home.’ Riordan leapt up on to the step of his carriage, eager to be off, wanting to see Maura and talk it all over with her. She would be horrified to know Wildeham was here.

  *

  Riordan took the stairs to his town house two at a time. Traffic home had been slow and crowded. There’d been a dray overturned and it had taken what had seemed like for ever to negotiate around it. He opened the door, surprised to have beaten Fielding to the task. Fielding was a great stickler for the little things.

  Something was wrong. The hall felt wrong. Wildeham’s threat came back.

  What’s waiting for you at home... ‘Maura!’ Riordan raced up the stairs. ‘Maura!’

  Where was everyone? He began throwing open doors, looking in little-used rooms—his method knew only madness as he tore through the hall.

  ‘Milord!’ Fielding’s sharp tone stopped him. Riordan had the impression Fielding had been calling him for some time. Fielding never raised his voice. ‘Milord, I didn’t hear you come in.’ Fielding was pale, his steady hands shaking. ‘We’ve had an accident, milord.’

  ‘Maura? The children?’ Riordan heard the crack in his own voice.

  ‘They’re gone, milord. Men came and took them away. Walter was shot.’

  ‘What men?’ Guns. There’d been guns in his home.

  ‘We don’t know, milord.’

  But Riordan knew. He didn’t know their names, but he knew who’d sent them.

  He sank to an upholstered bench in the hall, his head in his hands, his mind a jumble of tasks. He had to go see Walter, had to listen to Fielding, had to go after Maura. But for a moment he would wallow in his grief, regret raw and searing in his throat. He should have married her when he had the chance. It would have offered her some protection even when he wasn’t with her. ‘Fielding, do something for me.’ He was remembering something in his latest pile of mail.

  ‘Anything, milord.’

  ‘Ashe Bedevere and Merrick St Magnus have just arrived in town. Send for them immediately.’

  *

  Within the hour, Ashe and Merrick arrived, wives in tow. It had been too long since the trio had seen each other. Ashe embraced him. Unable to come to Elliott’s funeral because of duties at home, Ashe had sent a sincere letter. Ashe’s own brother had died not long before and Riordan knew Ashe had felt his own loss just as keenly. Merrick and Alixe hugged him, Alixe offering regrets that her brother, Jamie, was out of town, away on an extended honeymoon on the Continent. Then Ashe’s wife, Genevra, the American heiress Riordan had yet to meet, stepped forwards, concern in her grey eyes as she took his hands in hers.

  ‘Tell us what has happened and we’ll make it right.’

  Riordan thought those words might be his undoing. He’d been fighting all day and feeling very much alone. He’d told Maura once that he hadn’t much family left, no one of use anyway. One couldn’t really count Sophie and Hamish and a mother exiled to Switzerland. But he’d been wrong. He had a family right here in his friends.

  ‘They’ve taken Maura and the children,’ Riordan blurted out. Merrick and Ashe looked at him patiently, expectantly, as if there was more to say.

  Ashe’s mouth quirked in a half-smile. ‘I think we’re going to need a little more information than that.’

  ‘Let’s adjourn to the drawing room, Riordan,’ Alixe put in, slipping a comforting arm through his. ‘I’ll ring for tea and you can tell us everything.’

  ‘Tea, yes,’ Riordan muttered. ‘I’m always forgetting the tea. I forgot tea the first day I met Maura.’ Just over a month ago she’d rung his bell and he’d landed on her on his front step. It seemed a lifetime ago. Impossible to think so much had changed in just a handful of weeks.

  He did not miss the look that passed between Ashe and Merrick. ‘What?’

  ‘I was just thinking,’ Merrick drawled, ‘that you’ve got it bad.’

  Riordan grimaced. He wanted to shout at Merrick that Merrick had no idea what he was going through, that the woman he loved had been placed in grave danger. But that wasn’t true. Merrick did know. Merrick had hovered on the brink of death from a knife wound after saving Alixe from an avaricious imposter
.

  Ashe had faced even worse treachery, losing his home, his brother and very nearly Genevra in a fire engineered by his cousin. They knew exactly what he felt at this moment: impotence, fear and regret that perhaps he’d waited too long to claim the one woman who made him feel whole.

  In the drawing room, Alixe settled everyone and poured tea. The tea tray was immense, filled with sandwiches and cold meats along with cakes. Alixe smiled at the big tray. ‘One always calls for tea in a crisis, Riordan, because servants need to feel useful, too. None of us is good at merely sitting around waiting.’

  Riordan smiled and took a sandwich. ‘I’ll make a note of it, Alixe, although I hope I won’t have another chance to make use of the information.’ He gestured towards the decanter on the side table. ‘There’s brandy, Ashe, if you and Merrick want something stronger.’

  Ashe rose and went to pour a small glass for each of them. He raised an empty tumbler. ‘Riordan, anything for you?’

  Riordan shook his head. ‘No.’ He wanted to be clear-headed for Maura, for the children. It was something of a surprise to realise he hadn’t touched the stuff lately. He took wine at dinner, but he’d been too busy painting, too busy with Maura. His silver flask had taken a holiday in the top drawer of his bureau.

  Ashe grinned. ‘It’s far worse than I thought, Merrick.’ They laughed at his expense, but not unkindly. ‘All right, we’re all settled, let’s hear it. Don’t spare the details.’

  Riordan told them everything: the hunt for a governess which had landed Maura on his doorstep, the dinner party which had started the scandal, the Vales’

  threat to wrest away custody of the children unless he married.

  ‘At which point, it made sense to marry Maura,’ Merrick summarised.