Chapter 15
On the day she planned to visit the Downhollands Connie decided to wear one of the plainer gowns she’d chosen for herself, since they wouldn’t expect anything fancy, when Saxton entered her bedroom bearing yet another lovely gown.
“Another loan,” she said gloomily. Connie supposed she’d grown tired of pricking her fingers taking the gowns up to fit her and adding ruffles to the sleeves of her shift.
She couldn’t refuse it without upsetting Helena, so she let Saxton help her into the gown. This time it was pale blue, embroidered with tiny snowdrops around the hem and on the matching petticoat. She’d have thought the color not right for Helena but it suited Connie perfectly, the blue enhancing her eyes and contrasting with her dark gold hair.
Taking her cue from her hostess, she didn’t powder her hair and wore the minimum of make-up. Helena said that powder made her sneeze and she only wore it when she had to but Connie suspected she didn’t like it because her mother had made her wear it all the time. She’d have felt the same.
She went downstairs to meet Helena in the small parlor on the ground floor but she hadn’t arrived downstairs yet.
Alex turned from contemplating the world outside the window and before she could mumble an excuse and leave, strode across the room and swept her into his arms. “This separation is driving me mad,” he muttered before capturing her mouth and giving her one of the luscious kisses she’d been longing for in the last few days.
She couldn’t push him away. She somehow lost the strength, once she found herself in his arms again. When he finally finished the kiss, he gazed down at her, his eyes soft, passion gleaming in their depths. “Connie, reconsider. Fight this battle at my side. Marry me.”
“No.” Though it cost her a lot to say it, she wouldn’t do it, wouldn’t drag him down with her, if that were what would happen.
They didn’t speak again for some minutes as they made the most of their unaccustomed temporary privacy. Alex kissed her again, deep and passionate, his mouth working on hers like a man starved of sustenance, hungrily eating at her. Unable to hold herself inviolate, Connie responded, tucking her hands under his coat to spread over his back. As it was, his shirt and waistcoat were too thick, heavy barriers and only a hint of his delicious body warmth reached her questing palms.
Eventually he lifted his mouth from hers, their lips as close as they could get without touching. “I wanted to face the Downhollands with you. Since we’re telling them all, I see no reason they shouldn’t know—”
“About Mother Dawkins’?” She went cold.
He cinched her closer. “No, sweeting. That’s our secret.”
She wasn’t a complete innocent. “Did you have to pay Mrs. Dawkins? You must give me an account of all the money you’re spending on me.”
He growled. “What do you take me for? A miser? No, I will not. I can’t see the Downhollands bothering to check the story. Especially when I inform them I intend to seek your hand in marriage when this business is done. Before, if you’ll have me.”
She tried to pull away but he wouldn’t let her. “Why? There’s no need now. You made society accept me.”
She wasn’t sure the effect would last but she couldn’t deny the extra attention and the invitations to select gatherings that now arrived at Brook Street and included her.
The race at the ball had completed their success. Most of society believed that Connie had arrived recently in London and gone straight to Julius’s house. Or society chose to believe it, and what it believed had to be the truth.
“I want you. That’s enough for me.” He kissed her again and conquered her with passion.
This—he—was too dangerous. Every time he touched her, kissed her, she forgot everything else in a storm of need for him. And when he held her, she didn’t want to be anywhere else, or do anything else. She found him too easy to talk to, too easy to share confidences with. It frightened her. The only person she had done that with in the past was her husband—and look where that had ended.
But for now, just for a little while, she’d let herself feel him and remember the bliss of having Alex’s body deep inside hers.
His shaft rose and pressed against her. The light silk of her gown revealed more than the practical wools of her country wear. The curved shape of the head of cock sweetly against her belly. It had to be her imagination. She was wearing a hoop.
He thrust his tongue into her mouth, exploring and encouraging her and her whole body sighed in surrender. She stroked her tongue against his, shyly at first, then a little bolder and he rewarded her with a low groan.
Slowly, he finished the kiss and held her against him, his hands gently cherishing. She leaned her head against his chest. They were both breathing heavily.
He gave a shaky laugh. “Not the time, not the place. But Connie, I want to talk to you, really talk. Not about Dankworth, or your godparents, or any other damned issue. About us and what we want.”
“Why not now?”
“Not enough time. Not nearly enough.” He groaned and kissed her, this time briefly before he determinedly put her away from him, held her at arms’ length and scanned her form in a way that made her feel stripped bare.
Not to mention wishing they were both naked and on the other side of a locked door. She must be mad to think of that when her reputation, her very existence as an independent woman lay at stake.
“I’ll make sure you don’t suffer. I swear it.”
She shook her head in denial. “How can you promise that? It’s still uncertain. You and Julius have enemies only too glad to pay you back for slights or imagined slights. Julius’s brother has political opponents. They could all use me to drive a wedge between their desires and his.”
Alex gave a low whistle. “Not only beautiful but clever, too.”
She gave a derisive laugh. “I’ve played local politics for years. It doesn’t take much to work out that the same thing happens here but at a larger scale with more at stake. Just the same games.”
He dragged her back and held her tightly, their hearts beating against each other. “God but I want you. Connie. Say you’ll marry me.”
“No.”
He sighed. “We could sleep in the same bed every night.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
“At least you admit I’m tempting you.”
A bustle in the hall alerted her to Helena’s arrival downstairs. She suspected Helena had made more than necessary sound and hid her face against Alex’s chest to cover her confusion when she realized the whole house knew she was in here alone with him. They shouldn’t have allowed it but Alex ensorcelled people with his easy charm. She didn’t doubt he did it with servants, too. Alex had probably had his own way his whole life. It would do him good to wait.
But what would it do to her? If he gave up his passion and moved on? She’d heard that about him that his affection was passionate but soon over.
She could bear it. She might have to.
Helena waited outside the parlor, clad in a rose-colored gown and wearing a necklace of pink stones she informed Connie were topazes. “Julius enjoys buying me jewelry and who am I to refuse?” she said, laughing, when Connie admired the stones. “Caroline broke a gold chain of mine the other day and Julius bought this as a replacement. It made me want to take the whole box to the nursery and tell her to go at ’em.”
Since the day was drizzly and overcast, they took a closed carriage for the short journey to the Downhollands.
“I should like to see you in diamonds, Connie,” Alex said almost diffidently.
“I had some,” she said demurely. Her pearl necklace had also sported a few tiny diamonds. Very tiny. “I’d have worn them for you.” Gone, together with her mother’s pearls, stolen from her along with her good name. Recently she had purchased some pretty trinkets and used chokers of velvet and lace, which served as decoration when she needed them but she missed her mother’s jewelry.
The way he looked at her made her
flush. He didn’t have to add, “And nothing else?” because she read it in his gaze. She’d spend all her life blushing if she stayed with him and she’d rarely had occasion to blush before. Alex made her hot with excitement, with teasing, with passion. Effortlessly.
Even when he wasn’t there, when she thought of him and what they’d done together, she heated up, inside and out. Wanting him all over again.
Lady Downholland regarded her curiously when they finally stood in the saloon of the house she and his lordship had taken for the season. “You look very well, Connie,” she said, “but I’ve been hearing disturbing news about you.”
Connie wished she were alone, because although she didn’t blame herself for her ordeal at Mother Cratchitt’s, the more censorious in society would have it so. She’d already decided what she would say and she proceeded to do so, relating her story in dry, unemotional tones. Except the part where she succumbed to her baser nature and spent some time in bed with a most agreeable companion, lost in passion. She kept that part to herself and avoided Alex’s eyes when she skipped past it, even though that was the only part of the discussion where she faltered a little, trying to cover that with something plausible.
Saxton had agreed to back her on that point and since the maid had spent the time in Alex’s house under an assumed name, it was hardly likely anyone would discover that tiny deception.
Unless Connie looked at Alex now.
Jasper had lured her to London, had her abducted and put her up for auction in a house of ill repute. Lord Ripley had rescued her and taken her to his cousin’s establishment. She also told them of the subterfuge, that she said she had been taken ill on the road, so her arrival was delayed. She confessed it all. The Downhollands had treated her with kindness and consideration. They deserved to know the truth, or as close as she dared get.
Alex sat next to her on a wide sofa, Helena on her other side. He sat with one leg negligently crossed over the other at the knee, his foot in its shiny black shoe and silver buckles swinging gently.
“I see,” Lord Downholland said. “I appreciate your candor.” He glanced at his wife. “Since we arrived in town we received a visit from your betrothed.”
“You did?” she asked, at the same time Alex said, “That was quick.”
“And how did you become involved in the matter, young man?”
“Her maid, Saxton, came to me after her mistress disappeared,” Alex said unemotionally. “She suspected the involvement of Jasper Dankworth so she came to me, rather than to him. She knew nobody else in London. I had given Mrs. Rattigan my address because I wanted her to write to me.”
Lord Downholland frowned.
Alex spread his hands in a gesture of submission. “What can I say? I was extremely attracted to her and I wanted to keep in touch. I couldn’t approach her while she was engaged to another man but I enjoyed her company, so I would have pursued friendship, if she chose to give it to me.”
They’d shared more than friendship. Connie hastily pushed the thought to the back of her mind.
Lord Downholland nodded gravely. “And you searched for her. Discreetly, for which you should be commended. What do you intend to do now?”
That was frank enough. So was Alex’s answer. “I asked her to marry me but she refused.”
His lordship’s “What?” almost drowned out Lady Downholland’s gasp.
That rejection seemed to turn the tide for Connie, because the tight lines at the corners of his lordship’s mouth relaxed. “Quite right too. You cannot receive the attentions of one man while you are contracted to marry another.”
Lady Downholland turned a beaming face to her. “Your father would have been proud of you,” she said.
Tears sprang to Connie’s eyes, so her godfather appeared through a fine mist. It was the best thing he could have said. And yes, the principles instilled in her by her father had made her decision inevitable.
“Your esteemed father encouraged you to be a person of good character,” Lord Downholland said. “Be true to yourself, he said and often. One of his best sermons was on that very subject. Because of that, I believe you will come through this.”
She swallowed her tears. Despite his bishopric, her father had never sought higher office or promoted his interests, preferring to minister to the parishes and clerics under his care. A truly good man. She owed him so much. “Thank you. I’m so glad you understand. It’s because of that incident I must re-establish my good character, stand and confront my accusers.”
Alex affected his society drawl. “We decided, my cousin Julius and I, to act quickly. So we have introduced Mrs. Rattigan to the highest circles and shown the people who might have gossiped and traduced her that she is a woman of principle. Although some people saw and identified her in lamentable circumstances, society may choose to believe itself mistaken and that Dankworth is not the man it took him for.”
Lord Downholland cleared his throat and exchanged a speaking glance with his wife, who nodded. “We have not remained entirely ignorant of developments while we were not in town. Friends wrote to us. As a result, we came to town earlier than we’d planned to verify the events for ourselves.
“With your agreement, my dear, I will inform them of our decision.” He covered his wife’s hand with his, a tender moment that belied his formal words. “We’ve decided to investigate the matter further with a view to ending the betrothal and the contract.”
His formal way of speaking obscured his meaning for a moment, and then relief swamped Connie on a wave of dizziness. That part of her nightmare was over.
She took a few deep breaths and then managed to speak. “That would be for the best. But will he not require compensation? Can he take you to court for breach of contract?”
Or indeed, her?
Downholland smiled grimly. “Yes he could. And since the inheritance is bound up with the marriage, we could lose everything.”
“But he has declared his engagement to Miss Stobart,” Connie protested.
“We have questioned him. He has confessed his admiration for the young lady, and that he was carried away by his passion for her. He’s signed nothing.”
Alex growled low. “The intention is enough. I have reason to believe he will bankrupt you and bring opprobrium on the title. He has notes of hand all over town.”
His lordship sounded patient, as if he were holding in his ire. “I am making enquiries and I will discover the truth.”
“So you understand,” Alex said to his cousin later, in the privacy of his study, “that I must supply them with something to convince them. Connie is free of the taint, but they haven’t agreed to withdraw the inheritance from him. He is, after all, their only relative. Dankworth will ruin the Downholland title. He’s borrowing on the expectation. Besides, I have a score to settle. When someone hurts someone I hold in great regard, then I take that insult personally.”
He took a moment to quell his turbulent emotions. That sword fight the other day wasn’t enough—not nearly enough to assuage his fury against the Dankworths, one in particular.
Julius stared at him, blue eyes glittering. “He’s desperate. Without Connie’s estate, he’s lost. We must drive Dankworth to desperation, stop him borrowing on the expectation of the Downholland title and his marriage to Louisa Stobart and ensure he doesn’t wed the heiress. I’m with you all the way.”
Alex gave a terse nod. “Time to go in for the kill, Julius. I want him completely destroyed. I’ll drive him out, back to whatever hole he came from.”
“What do you plan?”
Alex tapped the side of his nose. “What say I take him into Hell at White’s next week and rook him?”
Julius considered, not a flicker of surprise disturbing his features. “Not White’s, I think. Mother Dawkins’s. You can get a table to yourself and ensure nobody comes near it. I don’t want to do it in White’s. Too sacrosanct, too respectable.”
“I take your point. Very well, I’ll do it at Mother Dawkins’s. I’ll ma
ke the arrangements.”
Julius leaned forward, his voice gaining a note of agitation. “Alex, are you sure? You know the risk you’re taking?”
“Would you do it with me?” They had learned to cheat at cards from the best cardsharper they could find, did it for a joke one summer out of sheer devilry. Most of their acquaintances knew of their skills but they also knew neither of them cheated when money lay on the table. But doing it at one of the most notorious addresses in London would hold them up to the highest opprobrium if they were caught. Alex would do it and more for Connie but Julius had nothing to gain in this fight, except fulfilling his sense of justice.
Julius laughed. “Naturally. With a number of members of society looking on.”
Alex wouldn’t let his cousin take this risk. “No. I’ll do it alone. If I suffer for this, Connie will need a powerful friend.”
Julius nodded. “You’re right. She’s welcome to stay here as long as she wishes. And that will give me the distance to continue my very discreet enquiries into the Dankworths’ involvement in this affair. Northwich in particular. So far, I’ve discovered nothing. Either they aren’t involved, or they’re playing a clever hand. Speaking of which, what game will you play with him?”
Alex frowned in thought. “Piquet.” A two hander, a game nobody could ask to join.
“Dankworth made a serious mistake, bringing me directly into his dispute with you. He will live to regret it, whether his august relatives are involved or not.”
Alex exchanged a look of perfect understanding with his best friend. “This is for me to do.” He wanted to control the play and see Dankworth squirm. He would drive the bastard into the tightest corner he could contrive.
Julius didn’t say more than, “Very well.” He shrugged. He’d have done it and that was enough for Alex.
Chapter 16
“You’re always welcome here, Lord Ripley,” Mrs. Dawkins said to Alex. “You bring me custom.” She smiled at another gentleman walking past her. “It’s Lady’s Academy night. Are you willin’?”
Rogue in Red Velvet Page 19