Rogue in Red Velvet

by Lynne Connolly

  “You’re too good, my dear,” Julius murmured. “Maybe he always had those tendencies and London merely brought them into prominence. But he’s been quieter the last few days.”

  He glanced at Alex, who had climbed down from his carriage and walked with them. “You did go a little too far, you know.”

  Alex shrugged. “I’ve sent him a note giving him more time. To be honest, I don’t want the money, just the pressure the debt gives me.”

  Chills invaded her body, crawling up her spine. “What have you done?” Connie swiveled around to stare at him.

  The expression in his dark eyes softened when he gazed at her and she reveled in it, her body yearning for his touch, although she did her best to suppress the feeling. “I merely played cards with him a few days ago and he lost quite a sum. It pushed him a little. I want him out of the city.”

  Her lips firmed into a thin line. At least she had a distraction from her increasing tension about the upcoming ball. Alex noticed her change of expression and his eyes turned wary, the lids dropping over the pupils a little more, his chin going up. “You have an objection, my lady?”

  “You might say that.”

  Alex glanced at Julius and Helena, and decided not even these two should hear what came next. He sketched a bow. “Would you care to take a turn around the park, ma’am? My new phaeton is rather fine. I’d be glad of your opinion.”

  Fashionable strollers and drivers packed the park at this hour. It was perfectly acceptable for her to take a spin in an open carriage.

  “I would love to, thank you.”

  She allowed him to hand her up into the carriage, lifting her skirts to prevent stumbling, flashing a glimpse of ankle and calf. On another day she might have teased him, might have thrilled at the touch of his gloved hand on hers but not now, not today. She was trembling with fury. But she would hear him out.

  Once on the narrow wooden seat, she shook out her skirts and lingered to smooth a finger over the pattern of spring flowers she’d enjoyed so much when she’d dressed that morning. Helena hadn’t asked for any of her gowns back yet and in truth, she wondered how her friend could take them back and wear them, because society had seen Connie in them now.

  Alex swung up and sat beside her. He took the reins from the footman standing by the carriage then nodded to the man at the horses’ heads. When the man would have swung up behind, Alex shook his head and the man stepped off without a word.

  The matched greys went into high-stepping action but the carriage was so well sprung she only feel the slightest of motions. This beautiful vehicle wouldn’t stand a chance on the rough roads around her home. It was all for show, all to display wealth, privilege and beauty. It did that superlatively well.

  “You’re well?”

  “Well enough, thank you.” She folded her hands in her lap, clasping them together tightly. An archly smiling lady she couldn’t ignore was in a carriage about to pass them. She smiled back.

  Alex negotiated a curve with great skill. Connie didn’t even move her hands to retain her balance. She turned her head, keeping her expression calm with not inconsiderable effort. Even through the haze of anger she noted the strong line of his jaw, the capable hands and hated herself, that she wanted him even now. “What did you do?”

  “I met him at Mother Dawkins’s on academy night. We went into the card room and I won twenty thousand pounds from him. He’ll leave town now.”

  “You did what?” She could hardly believe it. “You planned it, didn’t you? It was no chance meeting, was it?”

  He glanced at her and then took another look. “What’s wrong? You wanted him gone, did you not?”

  “Not like this.”

  He slowed his horses’ pace from a trot to a walk. “What do you mean?” He didn’t sound happy, his voice hard and slightly frightening. Lucky she wasn’t easily frightened.

  “You played him in a card game and won?”

  He cleared his throat. “In a way, yes.”

  “Were you lucky?”

  “Ah. Yes, very.”

  She sensed more than that. In some way, he’d manipulated that game. She could hardly ask him if he’d cheated. He could whip up the horses and throw her off for that. It was just too convenient. She could hardly get her understanding around the sum. “Twenty thousand?”

  “It was piquet,” he said, as if that explained it. Perhaps it did. The game involved thousands of points scored and if the bet was per point, it might happen like that. “Didn’t you warn him?”

  “Why should I? He’s a grown man.”

  “You know why.”

  His dark gaze turned cold.

  Despite the anger still coursing through her, she regretted his withdrawal. But she must make him understand she could not accept this.

  “You still care for him?” Alex asked.

  “Of course not. That’s not the point. Alex, do you remember what I said to you?”

  His voice softened infinitesimally. “Everything you’ve ever said. Every word.”

  She worked to control her voice, to keep it steady and reasonable. “Then why did you ignore me? Why listen and agree, if you have no intention of following my wishes?”

  He frowned in genuine confusion. “I don’t understand.”

  They swung around another corner, this time a little less steadily. Connie grasped the low rail at the side of the coach, clutched it hard, even though, once they rounded the bend, the carriage settled down once more. Fury welled up inside her. “I asked you to keep me informed. To let me make my own decisions, determine my own fate. You did this without consulting me, without asking me if I wanted you to do it.”

  He was staring straight ahead, his pose rigidly upright, his jaw set. “You would have me let him continue in town, lose that money to someone else?”

  “You must know he doesn’t have anywhere near that sum. And yet debts of honor must be paid, although respectable tradesmen can go hang. He’ll grow desperate.”

  “That, my dear, is the idea. I have no intention of collecting that debt. I will visit Lord Downholland later today and give him the notes of hand as proof of Dankworth’s perfidy. He may do as he wishes with them but I imagine he will call the man to account.”

  She made a sound of exasperation, a sharp “Tcha!” between her teeth. “And you think that will stop him? He has a wealthy fiancée. He’ll bolt for the border.”

  “He won’t.” Alex twitched on one rein to control the horse that had threatened to veer off to one side. “I have a close watch set on his lodgings. If he is absent for more than half a day, I’ll know about it.”

  “And that’s that?” She could hold back no longer—her anger boiled over like a neglected kettle. “Alex, the great lord of Ripley and all he surveys has deemed it so? He made it happen? I don’t want that. I don’t want all my problems to melt away. I wanted to confront him, ensure he would understand what he’s doing, to improve from his own nature. Otherwise, it will happen again and again. I don’t want it ending like this, for him to end like this.”

  “How can you say that when he would have ruined you?” Alex jerked his head around and glared at her, heedless of the throngs of people around them, or that all of them would be watching them now. “I had the opportunity to put something right. I should have reached Mother Cratchitt’s sooner, should have rescued you before half society saw you in a state of undress. I should have realized what nature of man he was long before I did.”

  She wanted him to get upset, wanted him to realize what he’d done. “What part of I want to do this on my own didn’t you understand, Alex? I was about to visit Miss Stobart, to discuss Jasper with her. I would have done it. Hell on earth, I still will.”

  Ignoring the faces turned to the carriage, unashamedly watching them, Alex drew the carriage to a halt. “You nearly died, Connie. A man has to take the consequences of the decisions he makes and he should take his. I did it because I don’t want you worried. I did it because I wanted nothing in the way of our
marriage. Because I want you, Connie. Dammit, you’re mine, you know you are!”

  By now, she was in a fine temper. “I know nothing of the kind, you dolt! How could you have gone over my head and done this thing, without even informing me of what you’d planned?” She threw up her hands and dropped them into her lap where they landed with a soft slap, marking the moment she gave way to her anger. How dare he? “If I had come to you, it would have been on my own, for myself, not because you’d made me grateful or wanted me to do it from relief.” She grabbed the rail and stood, swinging one foot out to find the tiny metal platform. A small surge of relief penetrated through the haze of rage when her foot landed squarely on it.

  He sat stunned, his eyes blazing but the reins held still in his hands.

  “I will attend the ball but after that I’m going home. You hear me?” She glanced down at the gown, and then back at him, making it clear she knew where they had come from. “And I’ll be sending back everything you’ve bought for me.” She paused. “Everything.”

  Her parting shot went home. He watched her but said nothing.

  “Don’t call, don’t try because the last time I see you will be at that ball. You hear me, Alex? The very last.” Having made her point, she swung down to the ground, almost stumbling when it turned out further away than she’d thought. She grabbed the side of the carriage and righted herself. She strode away, ignoring the people staring after her, uncaring of the fact that she was alone and unescorted.

  “Connie!” Alex called after her, but she didn’t slow down for a minute. He couldn’t chase after her without losing control of his carriage, since he’d elected to drive her without a footman in attendance but if she didn’t hurry, he’d turn that carriage and come after her.

  In a moment, she’d reached the gates of the park. She walked quickly around a corner and then another, quickening her pace to one far faster than a fashionable lady should aspire to but one she was well used to in the country.

  A child cannoned into her but by now she knew London ways and felt for her purse almost automatically, relieved to find it still there. She carried on walking, breathing deeply until she was more in control of her emotions. Breasts heaving under her fichu, she regained her breath and with it her composure.

  She found herself near the house where the Stobarts were spending the season. Not that she’d have known it from the row of elegant, similar houses, brass knockers on the black painted doors gleaming in the sunshine, marble steps spotless, curtains carefully draped at the windows. Each house had a number and the name of the street was fastened to the upper story of the house opposite.

  No time like the present. Although a little early in the day, it was still acceptable to pay a visit. Without allowing herself to reason against her decision, she ascended the steps and rapped on the door.

  A superior personage answered it and reluctantly allowed her in, while he took her card to the Stobarts.

  A pang went through Connie when she recognized her behavior wasn’t dissimilar to Alex’s, at least in intent. She wanted to control someone else’s life. No, no she didn’t. She wanted to ensure Miss Stobart understood what she was doing. Perhaps she shouldn’t have come to this house in such a temper, because it was evaporating quickly and she realized how foolish she’d been. After all, she’d been abducted in a busy inn. A moment and the deed had been done. It could happen again to someone else. To her on the way here.

  She’d call for a chair. Even then, chairmen weren’t always trustworthy. Oh, hell. Too late now.

  The superior person returned, with a deal more respect and asked her to follow him. After she’d disposed of her hat, gloves and shawl, she did just that, fished her fan out of her capacious pocket and held it loosely in the approved mode.

  Mrs. Stobart was all graciousness and offered her tea, which she found most welcome. After talking about the Downhollands, how good it was to see them in London and what they would wear for the forthcoming ball, Connie finally worked her way around to the subject of marriage. At which Mrs. Stobart gave her an indulgent smile. “You and I know, Mrs. Rattigan, what a blessing marriage is. I can only wish that my darling Louisa finds such bliss.”

  Connie doubted Louisa would find Jasper blissful. “He is a man of decided temper and he does consider himself the master of his house.” She might be here on a fool’s errand but she had to inform them of their folly.

  She smoothed away a piece of fluff on her skirt, enjoying the luxury of fine silk under her fingers. It would be a wrench to part with these lovely clothes but she’d promised, so she’d do it. In the carriage just now, she’d realized where all the gowns and trinkets had come from and she meant to task her hosts with their part in the deception later.

  “He wouldn’t do anything to upset me,” Louisa said, pouting those dewy-fresh lips that had no doubt entranced her fiancé. “He said so.”

  “Love fades,” said Connie, remembering how it had happened to her once. The remembered sadness was no more than a memory now, but at the time, she had been devastated. “And if there’s nothing left when it’s gone, then you have precisely that. Nothing. It’s important to ensure your intended is a man of good character and steadfast intent.”

  “You speak with great good sense,” Mrs. Stobart said. “But of course you know that dear Mr. Dankworth has just such qualities. He intends to remove to the country after the marriage, giving Louisa the time she needs to accustom herself to the married state.”

  To slake himself on her and then disappear back to London, more likely. Leave her pregnant and stranded. “I wanted to make sure you understood precisely what you were doing.”

  Mrs. Stobart handed her a dish of tea.

  She refreshed herself with a sip. It was not particularly good tea, or perhaps her indulgence and Helena’s excellent housekeeping had made her more discerning. “Jasper Dankworth must be fifteen years older than you.”

  Louisa beamed. “I prefer my men mature. He is exactly the right age for me. And so handsome, I can hardly stop looking at him.”

  Connie despaired. Maybe she could get Miss Stobart alone at the ball. Or somewhere else. “Do you plan to remain in London much longer?”

  “Oh until the end of the season, at least. I’m enjoying myself prodigiously. Then I will marry my dear Jasper and we will go into the country. Do you have similar plans?”

  “Something similar.” Going back to the life she knew. Immuring herself in the country.

  “I had no idea you knew such exalted people when I met you at the Downhollands’,” Mrs. Stobart remarked. She picked up one of the small cakes from the spread on the small table at her elbow. From her ample collection of chins, Connie wasn’t sure she needed it.

  “The Vernons are leaders of society,” Mrs. Stobart declared pompously.

  “So they are.”

  Louisa shuddered. “Doesn’t Lord Winterton frighten you sometimes? I’ve never seen anyone so haughty.”

  Julius spent time romping on the floor with his daughter and then, after she’d suffered a minor injury, cradled her in his arms with such tenderness she’d held her breath. And he hadn’t been afraid of her seeing him so vulnerable. To her, that denoted real strength. “He is very kind, too. He adores his little girl.”

  “So gossip says,” Mrs. Stobart said. “Of course, our dear Jasper will be a baron one day. We are assured the re-creation of the title will go ahead.”

  “And Lord Winterton will be a duke.” Connie refrained from mentioning that there were variations without the ranks, some title holders rich, some moderately well off, and some plain misters as wealthy as any duke.

  “Your suitor is a baron,” Mrs. Stobart went on. “And he’ll be an earl. I’m so glad you have found your admirers, instead of repining over Mr. Dankworth. Indeed, you were most gracious. I quite thought you’d cut us when we arrived in London.”

  Too close for comfort when Mrs. Stobart had cut her. Not the cut direct but she had pretended not to notice Connie’s presence a time
or three. Now, with Connie’s reputation restored, she behaved with all graciousness. “Indeed not. My hosts introduced me to everyone they considered essential but I was already acquainted with you.” So you weren’t important enough. See how she liked that.

  Mrs. Stobart wasn’t stupid. She understood well enough. Despite her expression remaining the same, she gave a sharp breath. “Of course, with dear Jasper being the Downholland heir, we have excellent expectations. Otherwise, I would not have allowed my precious daughter to spend time with him. While I regret the way Jasper broke your relationship, he is a man violently in love. You do not seem too upset about it yourself, so we can say that no harm came of the situation.” Her eyes gleamed.

  At that moment, a discreet knock on the door indicated the presence of the footman, who entered and handed Mrs. Stobart a visiting card. She reddened and glanced up. “I’d be delighted to see them.”

  Had Alex followed her? Connie thought she had run fast enough but perhaps she had moved too slowly.

  It wasn’t Alex. Helena entered first, letting Julius take his time entering the room. “We’ve finished our errands, my dear, so we thought we’d bring the carriage around instead of putting you to the trouble of sending for it.” Her perfunctory kiss on the cheek left Connie with the soft scent of lavender.

  “Come and sit here my dear.”

  Her expression perfecty serene, Helena sat next to Mrs. Stobart.

  Julius took his seat in a wide-armed chair, flicking the skirts of his pale blue coat into place before he sat down. He crossed his legs at the knee in the approved mode and accepted the dish of tea that would be past its best by now. But he made no comment, merely put the tea on a nearby table after a sip.

  They spoke of nothing more noteworthy than society and the ball on Friday but subtle innuendo and the presence of two of the leaders of society here gave the Stobart presence more approval than they’d obtained all season. They might be received at the large occasions, but so far, the intimate gatherings Helena had taken Connie to had been unavailable to them. Connie didn’t doubt that they had brought the crested carriage with liveried footmen and left them outside to wait. Society could take note.