Jo Beverley - [Rogue ] (48 page)

Soon after she and Lucien slipped out of the house to walk home. The streets were still vibrant with the delirium of victory but every now and then Beth saw a face as sober as theirs.

"It may not be the end of war," she said tentatively, "but it surely is the end of this war."

"I should have been there," Lucien said and quoted again the words from Henry V "'And gentlemen in England now abed / Shall think themselves accursed they were not here, / And hold their manhoods cheap....' Not for glory. I don't know if there was any glory. It's just that I should have been there. And to hell with the pride of the de Vaux."

Beth felt helpless in the face of this grief, felt almost as if he was shutting her out. Acting on instinct, as soon as they were in Belcraven House she said, "Let's go to my rooms."

Once there she sat on the sofa and drew him down beside her. "Tell me about him."

And so he did. Eyes closed, resting in her arms, he recalled for her the whole story of the Company of Rogues. How Nicholas Delaney, already a leader at thirteen, had gathered together some boys to be a mutual protection society with vague overtones of the Knights of the Round Table, which was why they'd stopped at twelve members.

"We wanted to call ourselves the Golden Knights, I think," Lucien said with a smile, "but Nick said we weren't there to protect the weak and innocent but to protect ourselves. And so we became the Company of Rogues. Which was pretty apt. The tricks we used to get up to...."

He went on to describe their tricks—some acts of revenge for cruelty done to one of the members but many just very inventive mischief. "We had a rule—I'm sure it was Nick's doing—that we couldn't use the Company to evade just punishment. I seem to remember him saying it was necessary to learn not to get caught, but if we were caught we had to take our medicine. God, when I think of some of the floggings. Do you think it toughens us into mighty warriors?"

Beth stroked his hair. "I don't know, love."

"Dare," he said. "Dare could take the worst beating with a smile. Afterwards he'd howl, but at the time he'd keep this silly smile on his face. It used to drive the masters wild. I suppose he smiled...." After a moment he went on. "There's nine of us now, assuming Con's all right. Allan Ingram followed his father into the Navy straight from Harrow. He was killed three years ago. A fight with a Yankee ship. Roger Merryhew died of wounds he received at Corunna. Leander—he's Lord Haybridge—he's with the guards. He must have been at this battle of Waterloo."

"His name wasn't on the list," Beth reminded him.

"The lists aren't complete, and they give scarcely any of the wounded. He could have lost a limb, been blinded."

They lapsed into silence. Beth found herself pondering the business of the toy soldier. Eleanor had reported Nicholas's comment that there was no reason his daughter shouldn't grow up to be a soldier. It was clear that Nicholas had no fondness for war, so why would he say such a thing? Because it was a consequence of the equality of the sexes he obviously believed in. Beth found herself chilled by that implication which had never been addressed by Mary Wollstonecraft.

Lucien sat up and buried his head in his hands. "I'm sorry, Beth, I think I want to go back to Lauriston Street. Apart from anything else, there's still this Deveril business to be taken care of. Do you mind?"

"Of course not." She understood the Company's need to be together. She went and found Deveril's letter and gave it to him. But then she found she didn't want to be left behind. Somewhat hesitantly she asked, "May I come with you?"

"Of course. You're a member by marriage, and it is your plan."

They found the Delaney household returned to normal, a rather sober normal, but normal all the same. Eleanor was nowhere to be seen. Nicholas, Francis, Miles, Stephen, and Peter were around the dining table discussing their plans. Nicholas smiled when they came in. Beth thought it was significant that he had a sleeping baby in his arms. She thought Arabel was the magic key in this house.

"You have the letter? Excellent. I'll take it to my clever friend shortly, then all we have to do is fight over who gets the fun of breaking and entering."

It was Miles Cavanagh, the gingery Irishman, who said, "I think we should rule out married men for a start."

Peter Lavering eyed him. "I think we should rule out foreigners."

The Irishman's eyes flashed. "Ah, if only Ireland were a foreign land."

"No politics today, please," said Stephen Ball. "I get enough of the Irish Question on the floor."

Nicholas spoke up. "With Amy due to have the baby any day, Peter, we can't involve you in anything. Besides which," he added, "you aren't a member."

Peter looked belligerently uncomfortable. "It ain't my fault my family always goes to Winchester."

Nicholas smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry. You are, of course, a full honorary member. But you're still not getting involved in this. I missed Arabel's birth, and I have strong feelings on the subject. Stephen, you're not coming either. If anything goes wrong we may need your influence—"

Eleanor popped into the room. "'Ware servants!"

A few moments later Hollygirt and a maid came in to lay out a cold collation, tea, and ale. When the servants had left and the food was being passed around, they continued the discussion.

"If I'm proscribed," said Sir Stephen, "then I think Francis should be, too. He's a member of the Lords though he rarely takes advantage of it."

Lord Middlethorpe said, "Stubble it, Steve."

Nicholas shook his head. "We only need one to plant the will. The rest will be to guard and distract—" He broke off at the sound of the knocker.

In a moment the door opened and Hal ushered Blanche into the room. A rather tense and uneasy Blanche. "He would insist that I come," she said.

Eleanor came forward. "You must be Mrs. Hardcastle. You're very welcome."

Nicholas said, "Yes, indeed. Come join us at the table."

Hal and the bemused White Dove were soon seated in the circle. Blanche looked at Nicholas with a slight frown. "We met before last night," she said. "About a year ago." There was clearly some significance to this. Almost a challenge.

"Yes, I know," Nicholas said easily. "I was with Thérèse Bellaire."

Blanche glanced at Eleanor, and Eleanor smiled. "It's all right, Mrs. Hardcastle, I know all about it."

Blanche's brows rose. Nicholas said dryly, "Not quite all about it." Eleanor looked startled. "Go on," said Nicholas.

Beth looked between the two of them, wondering what was going on.

Hal said to the company as a whole, "She was fermenting all these strange ideas, so I thought she'd better come and get them off her chest. Anyway, she may be able to help us."

Blanche flushed but faced Nicholas resolutely, "You were also there with Deveril."

It was Beth's turn to stare at Nicholas. A more unbelievable acquaintanceship was impossible to imagine.

"Not quite," said Nicholas. "He was there with Thérèse as was I. I was definitely not with him."

"Strange company all the same."

"You were there, too."

"A mistake. I left quickly."

"And I stayed there all night." There was something distinctly bleak in his voice but then he looked down at the baby and gently smoothed her fuzzy hair. "You think my past makes me unsuited to take this business in hand?" he queried, looking up again. "On the contrary."

Blanche studied him thoughtfully for a moment and then nodded. "I see. Very well. How can I help?"

Beth hadn't the faintest notion what that had all been about and after a glance at Lucien's wooden face suspected she was never going to find out. This time last year, however, Eleanor must have been pregnant with Arabel. It seemed unbelievable that Nicholas Delaney had been consorting with a whore at that time, particularly one who counted Lord Deveril as an intimate.

Eleanor did not seem disturbed, and Nicholas picked up their planning. "Are you on stage tonight?" he asked Blanche.

"No."

"You said you had lines to learn for tonight," Lucien interrupted.

"I lied," Blanche said, then turned back to Nicholas. "What can I do?"

He grinned. "Do you think you could play the part of a common whore?"

Blanche grinned back. "Difficult, but I am an actress, after all. What do I do?"

"Distract."

She chuckled. "I think I can manage that."

Beth took her courage in both hands. "I want to play a part, too," she said. "Surely two whores will be better than one."

"Over my dead body!" Lucien exploded.

"That can be arranged," Beth retorted.

Lucien opened his mouth and took a deep breath. "It's out of the question, Beth," he said more moderately. "You're not an actress."

"I was always very competent in theatricals."

"That is hardly the same thing."

Beth fixed him with a cold eye. "Lucien de Vaux, either you are implying I am too delicate a creature to take part in this adventure, or you think that Blanche is too coarse to care about. Which?"

Random seating had placed him between Beth and Blanche, and he looked between them and sunk his head in his hands. "I don't believe this' is happening."

There was a wave of laughter, but Beth could see some of the men were scandalized by her behavior. Nicholas, however, said, "If you want to come, Beth, you're welcome. Eleanor?"

Eleanor's eyes widened. "Will you think me very tame if I say no?"

"Of course not." He looked at Blanche and Beth. "If the will is not to be questioned there must be no hint of strange goings-on at Deveril's house, but there may still be a couple of his men there. If we're lucky they'll have taken his absence as a chance to go out and join the fun, but he was a hard master who paid well for obedience, so we can't depend on it. Deveril was in the habit of bringing in women for himself and his men. You will turn up in that guise and keep them occupied. It should only be for a matter of minutes."

"How do we get out without raising suspicion?" Blanche asked.

"Your protectors will turn up and drag you out. You see, you have arranged this little bit of business for yourself and deprived them of their cut."

Lucien looked up sternly. "In that case, I am one of them."

"Of course. And Miles."

Beth raised a problem. "Won't this little foray be seen as suspicious if the will is questioned?"

"Unlikely. The scenario's not unlikely and with luck the men will be off as soon as Deveril's death is discovered. The beauty of your plan, Beth, is that no one has a pressing cause to investigate anything. Besides, if questions are asked, the doxies will never have penetrated into the upper floors of the house. All we're trying to avoid here is bodies or an obvious break-in."

Nicholas looked at Francis and Hal. "You two have the boring job of hanging about in the street as your normal selves ready to help if need be."

They didn't look too happy at being cut out of the action but agreed.

Nicholas addressed Lucien and Miles. "We're all dressing as the great unwashed. I'll get the clothes. We'll meet at Tom Holloway's to change, but try to turn up there inconspicuously. You, in particular, Luce, tend to glitter."

"How can you say that," Lucien demanded, "when you think of my low tastes?" He cast a baleful look at both his mistress and his wife.

Beth giggled.

"What time?" Miles asked.

"We'll meet at nine. It'll be growing dark and the streets should be lively with impromptu celebrations." He looked at Beth and Blanche. "Make sure you can't be recognized. I don't want to have to kill the men if I can help it."

Beth was startled at how easily she believed him capable of killing when required. She was beginning to wish she'd not, volunteered, but it was too late now.

Blanche nodded. "I'll get wigs from the theater and paint. Anything else we're likely to need?"

Throughout the following discussion, Beth was aware of Lucien's silence. If he was
that
angry, why had he not made a stronger objection? What would she have done if he had made a stronger objection?

Soon Beth and Lucien were walking back to Marlborough Square. He didn't speak, and Beth didn't try to make conversation. However, he followed her into her boudoir.

Beth looked at him nervously. He wasn't in a rage but neither was he happy. He ran a hand through his hair. "I would like to be allowed to keep you safe," he said.

Beth faced up to him. "I can't live in a gilded cage, Lucien."

"There is a lot of ground between a gilded cage and the gutter," he said angrily, "and that is where you're going tonight. You remember Deveril's henchmen. What if something goes wrong? What if it takes time for us to intervene?"

Beth hadn't really thought it through that far, and she swallowed even as she stuck to her guns. "It is not right that Blanche be asked to do things I am not asked to do."

"For God's sake, Blanche is a whore!" he exploded. "She's a gem and I love her—in a platonic way these days, of course—but she worked her way to London on her back and, bought her way into the theater the same way. Now she depends on her acting for her livelihood, but she's seen and done things you can't even imagine!"