Nicole Jordan (25 page)

It was true, Raven reflected, thinking of the terrible life the boy had led. Recalling that he was a bastard, she felt rather humbled and ashamed of herself for bemoaning her own origins all these years. She had been so much better off than poor Nate. At least she’d had a loving mother, but Nate had had no one until Kell literally hauled him off the streets.

Kell cared a great deal for the boy, that much was obvious. “It was exceedingly good of you to save him,” Raven added.

Kell’s mouth twisted as he shook his head. “I am no saint, if that is what you are thinking.”

“No, I would hardly call you a saint. But certainly a guardian angel. Tell me…” She regarded Kell seriously. “Why would you go to so much effort for a boy you don’t even know?”

He was silent for a long moment. “I suppose because his plight strikes too close to home. I know what it’s like to be helpless. To be on the streets. To be alone and have nothing and no one to turn to.”

She heard the pain in his voice, the loneliness he let her glimpse, the man behind the mask. Regretting having probed such a raw wound, Raven mentally berated herself. “Surely you were never so wretched as Nate.”

“No, but for a time I was just as powerless. I came to despise that feeling. And Nate reminds me of my brother. Sean was his age when we were delivered to the tender mercies of my uncle. I admit it became a compulsion of mine, to rescue any helpless creature that crosses my path.”

“Including me? Is that why you came to my rescue and wed me?”

Kell frowned at her, deliberately trying to discompose her, she suspected. “You are an extremely nosy wife.”

“I suppose I am.”

“I thought you promised not to make a nuisance of yourself.”

“But sometimes I cannot help myself. You may beat me and restrict me to bread and water if that will make you feel better.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he warned, although his wry smile took the sting out of his words. He leaned back against the leather squabs then, shutting his eyes and effectively dismissing her.

Raven watched him for a moment, marveling at the compassion she’d seen in him. Kell was a hard man, with a brusque temper and unforgiving manner, especially toward her. But she was beginning to suspect that inside, he was closer to melted wax than granite. Clearly he couldn’t bear to see anyone helpless and downtrodden.

It had been Nate’s good fortune to be rescued by Kell. Was she as fortunate?

Uneasily, Raven banished the thought, unwilling to admit that wedding Kell had been anything but misfortune for her.

Tearing her gaze from him, she stared out the window. She would do better to heed the warning voices in her head. If she didn’t take care, she could grow to like Kell far too much, but it was folly to entertain feelings of warmth and admiration toward her unwanted husband.

Kell’s genuine kindness, however, made Raven even more determined to see that he didn’t suffer for her sake. Yet judging by the daily accounts she received from her friends, the progress was not encouraging.

She had hoped that with the Marquess of Wolverton and the Earl of Wycliff promoting her husband’s acceptance into the elite ranks of the ton, Kell at least stood a chance of living down his notoriety. Reportedly, he attended several events with Dare and rubbed shoulders with the prime social leaders, including the Prince Regent himself. Dare also related that the Hellfire League members were patronizing the club regularly.

And yet, as Raven had feared, her friends’ earnest efforts to rally around him were in vain. According to Emma, attendance at the club had fallen to record lows. And the spurious rumors about his gaming hell only worsened.

By the following week, Raven concluded there was only one course open to her—to confront the source of the slander directly.

It took some maneuvering, but she managed to discover through the servants’ grapevine that the Duke of Halford was expected to attend Drury Lane Theater that evening. When she expressed an interest in seeing the play there, both Brynn and Lucian dropped their plans in order to accompany her.

She dressed carefully in an empire waist gown of royal blue velvet that was Halford’s favorite shade, knowing it brought out the vivid color of her eyes, while the low, square neckline showed her bosom to advantage.

Halford was already at the theater when they arrived, seated in a box opposite the Wycliffs’. But he refused even to look at Raven—a deliberate cut, she knew. Half the opera glasses in the theater were trained on her, but she paid no attention to the spectators or to the play. She could not even have said what she saw, her attention was focused so intently on her task.

At the first intermission, when she saw Halford leave his box, she persuaded Brynn to stroll the halls with her. As she hoped, they encountered the duke shortly, but he was surrounded by friends.

Keeping a discreet distance, Raven waited until he left his party. Then taking a deep breath, she stepped forward into his path.

Halting abruptly, Halford raised his quizzing glass, looking at her as if she were a particularly odious species of bug.

She endured his scathing perusal without visibly flinching. “Good evening, Charles.”

“Madam.” He made no effort to bow. “I confess you astonish me, brazenly accosting me in public like this.”

“I presumed this would be my only chance to speak to you,” Raven replied. “No doubt you would have refused to see me had I applied to you in private.”

Raising a mocking eyebrow, Halford looked around them. “I wonder that your husband didn’t accompany you here.”

His very tone was a taunt, but Raven tried to remain calm, not wishing to antagonize him. “My husband is occupied at the moment. He has a club to run, as perhaps you know.”

“Ah, yes.” The duke’s lips curled with contempt. “I recall now that he is a gamester. I should have perceived your presence, since the stench followed you here.”

Raven bit her tongue. “Charles, I only hoped to have a word with you.”

“You may spare your breath, madam. Nothing you have to say could possibly interest me.”

He turned abruptly and left her standing there.

Her determination only rose, however.

Near the end of the play, Raven pleaded a headache and told her friends she intended to take a hackney home. Lucian escorted her below and found her one, but several blocks away, she instructed the jarvey to double back.

He dropped her at the end of the long queue of carriages waiting for the theater patrons. Fortunately most of the coachmen and footmen were hovering together, laughing and dicing and simply trying to stay warm in the frigid night air.

Raven kept to the shadows until she spied Halford’s town coach with the ducal crest emblazoned on the door, then slipped inside, hoping she hadn’t been seen. She was risking fresh scandal with her brazen plan, no doubt; ladies did not closet themselves in closed carriages in order to confront irate noblemen. But she felt she had no choice.

She curled herself in the far corner, in the rear-facing seat, and pulled a carriage rug over her head, praying she wouldn’t be detected until they were under way. Then she lay shivering in the darkness.

It was quite some time before the line of carriages began to roll forward, and longer still before she heard Halford enter his own vehicle. She waited until they were well in motion before pushing off the rug and sitting up. She could barely make out his form across from her.

“Charles?” she murmured quietly.

With a violent start, he snatched up his cane to defend himself.

“Charles, it is I, Raven,” she said hurriedly.

He reached up to rap on the roof, but she leaned forward to grasp his arm, staying him. “Please, I beg you, just hear me out a moment.”

“Are your powers of comprehension defective? I told you, I have no interest in anything you have to say. Now, pray be gone. I want you out of this carriage—”

“Charles, I lied to you,” she said quickly before he could throw her out. “My marriage to Lasseter was not a love match in the least. Merely an act of desperation.”

Her confession made Halford hesitate. “What are you talking about?”

Raven took a deep breath. She could see no other way to gain his sympathy than to tell him the complete truth and throw herself on his mercy. “It was not Kell Lasseter who abducted me. It was his brother, Sean.”

“His brother?”

“Yes. Sean was intent on revenge because I once spurned his suit. But Kell had nothing whatever to do with my abduction and only became involved afterward.”

Halford settled back in his seat, his attention captured for the moment. “I suppose you should explain after all.”

“It is a long story….”

“I’m listening,” he said gruffly.

She told him then about Sean once being her suitor and his accosting her in the Gardens. About his subsequent impressment and his desire for revenge. About his hired thugs violently seizing her when she was on her way to the church to be married.

“Sean rendered me unconscious and drugged me and kept me tied to a bed. I have no doubt he meant to torture me and worse, but Kell Lasseter intervened. He saved me from ravishment, I’m certain. But until that day Kell was a perfect stranger to me.”

“A stranger?”

“Yes. I never saw him before the day of my abduction. He was only protecting me from scandal by wedding me.”

“So you didn’t love him?” Halford asked slowly, his first sign of uncertainty.

“No, not at all.”

“Then why the devil did you lie about making a love match?”

“Because I feared you would call him out otherwise.”

The duke shook his head. “I am still not certain I comprehend. You made me look the fool rather than admit the truth?”

“Would the truth have served any better purpose? Your being jilted for love was humiliating, certainly, but having your betrothed abducted would have been nearly as shameful—and much more dangerous. If you had felt compelled to duel to defend my honor, you might have killed or been killed yourself. I didn’t want that to happen.”

Halford remained silent, giving no indication if he believed her.

“By claiming a love match,” Raven continued, “I stood a chance of salvaging some shred of my reputation. I promise you, Charles, I had no desire to wed anyone but you, but Kell Lasseter was my only option if I hoped to diminish the scandal. As a married woman, I could possibly survive, but without a husband…I was almost certain you would have refused to wed me after my abduction. Yet there was another possibility: You might have felt obliged to honor our betrothal. I could not have let you make that sacrifice. Your duchess should be above reproach, and I was damaged goods.”

He turned his head away, not answering.

“Truly,” Raven pleaded, “I thought it was for the best. It was too late for me. My future was already ruined, and I didn’t want to ruin yours as well.”

“My future was indeed ruined that day, my dear,” he said quietly. “I lost you.”

Raven felt an ache squeeze her throat. “Charles, your heart was never engaged. You never loved me.”

“Ah, but you are wrong. I cared for you a great deal.” He turned back to her. “I wish you could have trusted me.”

She heard the sorrow in his voice, recognized the genuine pain. Her eyes burned with sudden tears. “I’m sorry I hurt you, Charles. I would not have done it for the world.”

Removing his glove, he reached forward and touched her wet cheek. “I think you honestly mean it.”

“Of course I do,” she said, her voice unsteady.

Halford sank back in his seat, observing her in the dim light. “So now you are wed to a notorious gamester.”

“I am making do.” She wiped absently at her tears. “But I owe Lasseter a huge debt of gratitude. He doesn’t deserve your anger, Charles. He only rescued me from becoming a pariah in society. If you must be angry, then please, be angry with me.”

The duke sighed. “I can’t be angry with you, my dear. You were not to blame for what befell you. But I wish you had come to me for help.”

“I’m sorry, Charles, but I didn’t think I had any choice. Can you not understand that?”

“I suppose I can. Very well, then…I should take you home.”

“Charles…” She hesitated, wondering if she could risk asking him for a favor. “I would rather you accompany me elsewhere.”

“Where?”

“To the Golden Fleece.” Raven hastened to explain. “As I said, I owe Lasseter a great deal, but he is suffering because of me. Your accusations have nearly ruined him, Charles. If you would only make a brief appearance at his club, perhaps spend a little time at his gaming tables, it would go a long way to refute the rumors you’ve been circulating about his dishonesty. Please, for my sake, won’t you at least consider helping him?”

“You forget, I don’t gamble.”

“But you could make an exception just this once. I will gladly stake you the funds. A few thousand pounds should be more than adequate. If you could just manage to lose it with good grace—”

“Don’t be absurd.” His tone was stiff but held a wry note. “I can afford to lose a few thousand.”

“Then you will come with me?”

Halford sighed again, this time with exasperation. “I cannot imagine how I manage to let you talk me into the very things I despise.”

Smiling with fervent relief, Raven grasped his ungloved hand and pressed it to her lips in gratitude. “Because you are a wonderful, magnanimous man who believes in doing what is right.”

For the hour of midnight, St. James Street was surprisingly well-populated by revelers and gamesters and swells making their way about town. But there was little traffic passing through the doors of the Golden Fleece.

When Raven and her guest were admitted by the majordomo and escorted to the gaming room, she hesitated, surveying the small crowd with dismay; the number of gamblers was far smaller than on previous nights, she suspected from what Emma had told her. She could only pray that would soon change.

Her heart in her throat, Raven took the duke’s arm and stepped forward, then paused for effect. A hush slowly fell over the room, just as she had hoped; they were the focus of all eyes.

When she spied Kell, her heart took up a rapid rhythm. His expression remained impassive as he unhurriedly moved her way, but she didn’t presume he was pleased to see her, or the Duke of Halford, either.