Redeeming the Rogue (24 page)

He sipped his whiskey. Of course, that was precisely the reason for the other occupants in the room. His desire to feel her in his arms again still smoldered in regions not discussed in polite circles—her circles.

“If the need for a hostess is that important, I can telegraph Lord Henderson and request that he send a more appropriate replacement,” he said.

Arianne’s gaze snapped to his. “But that will take weeks. Did you not say time was the enemy in investigating a murder? And what of the implied carefully laid plans to involve the Americans? Are you going to ignore that as well, all for your personal vendetta against Toomey?”

His eyes narrowed. “I’m not pleased with this solution, but I don’t see that I have any other recourse. Unless you have a solution, I—”

“I do,” Arianne said. “When we first met with Lord Henderson, I recall you suggested that I might be the perfect candidate for this role.”

Mrs. Summers gasped. “Arianne, no!”

“That’s true,” Rafferty said, holding her gaze. She would be perfect, but the consequences would also be severe. It was not a course to be taken lightly. “If I recall correctly, you found the suggestion to be highly insulting. Which,” he hurried to assure her, “was never my intention.”

“Perhaps she could be introduced as your cousin,” Phineas offered hopefully. “No one knows Rafe in America.”

Arianne smiled at Phineas. “I’m afraid my relations are well documented.”

“The illustrious daughter of a duke would have no Irish branches,” Rafferty said, his brow raised. “Nor would they appreciate an Irish graft onto the family tree.”

“Even a cousin would be considered inappropriate for a bachelor,” Mrs. Summers said. She looked directly at Arianne. “It would have to be a wife . . . and a wife’s country property would then belong to her husband.”

A hard glance passed between the two women. Arianne bit her lip. After a moment she turned to Rafferty.

“When I first met you, I thought you lacked sincerity, sophistication, ability, and maintained no pride in your appearance,” Arianne said.

Her criticism stung. He scowled. “Is that all?”

“I know now that you lack none of those things.” She took a deep breath. “It’s due in part to that knowledge that I shall rescind my objection and offer my services as a hostess.”

He was stunned. To have such a competent partner by his side and a passionate lover in his bed . . . a man could not ask for more. That she would be the one to propose marriage was unusual, but he was discovering that much about his Arianne didn’t fit the mold. He was flattered beyond belief. Her attention was directed elsewhere, but he murmured a soft prayer of gratitude nonetheless.

“Arianne! You can’t!” Mrs. Summers said. “Your brother will not allow it.”

“Should my brother hear of my actions, he will not be pleased,” she conceded. “But as this posting is only a temporary one, there’s a good chance he won’t know of it. Only the Home Office has an interest in American society.” She sipped her wine, but Rafferty noticed the liquid shook in her glass. She was more concerned about her brother’s reaction than she pretended. That was all right; she’d have to trust his handling in this. He would explain to the Duke that she’d be well loved and well cared for. What man could find objection in that?

Rafferty beamed at his soon-to-be bride. She was everything a man could hope for. Now if everyone would vacate his room, he could show his appreciation in a more satisfying manner.

“Congratulations, Rafferty.” Phineas slapped him on the back. “I’ll notify Captain Briggs. You can be legally wed before we reach Washington.”

“You misunderstand,” Arianne protested. “It is not my intention to marry. I’m offering to step into the role that Eva vacated. Like her, I will only pretend to be his wife.”

Rafferty’s spirit plummeted. Perhaps Arianne was not so unusual after all. Foolish man. He should have known that the daughter of a duke would never consent to marriage to the likes of him.

“You should marry, Arianne,” Mrs. Summers said. “Then, after this murder business is resolved, you can seek a divorce.”

“A divorced woman is little better, socially, than a ruined one,” Arianne said. “Worse, in fact, as she would have surrendered her property rights to her husband.”

Rafferty buried the black fury that raged inside him. He kept his manner and voice deathly calm by fisting a hand behind his back. “You believe I’m interested in your property?”

“No, but it would be a consequence,” she said, oblivious to his torment. He noticed Phineas had placed himself so as to shield Arianne if necessary. It wouldn’t be, but he couldn’t fault his reaction. Eva’s betrayal hadn’t cut nearly so deep as Arianne’s refusal of him as a husband.

She turned toward him. “After you’ve found Lord Weston’s murderer and your Mr. Toomey, you will regret being saddled with me,” Arianne said. “I will retire to my dower estate and you can go forward with whatever it is you do when you’re not chasing Toomey.”

“Arianne—” he said.

She put her fingers on his lips. “Enough. This is the way it has to be.”

 

“YOU SHOULD HAVE ACCEPTED HIS OFFER OF MARRIAGE,” Mrs. Summers said as they stood in the passageway outside Rafferty’s door. “No respectable man will offer for you after this masquerade.”

“
He
didn’t offer marriage,” Arianne managed around the tight restriction in her throat. “Mr. Connor was the one who mentioned marriage, not Rafferty.”

“You should have insisted upon it. I know you care for him.”

Arianne thought of the sad bruised face of her mother, who was trapped in a marriage without love. Not that she thought Rafferty would ever hit her, but who knew? Without true affection, anything was possible. “No,” she said. “I won’t marry a man who doesn’t love me. When this is over, I’ll return to Sanctuary and live a quiet life alone.”

Behind them she thought she heard the sound of glass shattering as if thrown at a wall. Or perhaps that was just the sound of her hopes of future happiness cracking into irretrievable fragments.

“ANNIE!” LADY WESTON GASPED. “IS THAT YOU? How you’ve grown, and so beautiful.” She smiled with fondness. “Why, you could be one of those professional beauties I’ve read so much about.”

“Lady Weston, I was so sorry to hear of your loss.” Arianne grasped the woman’s outstretched hands and kissed her cheek. “Lord Weston will be sorely missed.”

“Thank you, dear.” The older woman dabbed her eyes with a black-bordered handkerchief. “I miss him every day. I never fancied myself a widow, but I suppose I must adjust. We all must adjust.” She turned toward Rafferty. “And who is this handsome fellow?”

“Allow me to introduce the new British minister,” Arianne said. “Mr. Michael Rafferty will be taking command of the legation.” Rafferty gave a curt bow to Lady Weston and raised a brow at Arianne, waiting.

“We’ve been expecting you, sir,” Lady Weston said with a nod of her head.

Arianne’s heart raced. The gold band on her finger felt awkward and tight. Now that she’d volunteered for this position, she was having difficulty sealing her fate. She motioned to the man behind them. “Mr. Connor”—Phineas stepped forward—“is an associate of Mr. Rafferty.”

Lady Weston nodded in greeting, then looked perplexed. She stood on tiptoes to peer over Arianne’s shoulder. “Is there anyone else?”

Rafferty reached behind Arianne and grasped her waist, tugging her closer to his side. “My wife failed to mention that we’ve recently married.” He kissed her cheek like an overgrown schoolboy while Arianne managed to smile, all the while wanting to smack him away.

Lady Weston’s jaw dropped. “Annie, you’ve married? Kitty didn’t mention that in her letters. Oh dear, congratulations are in order. You shall make the perfect diplomatic wife.”

“That’s the general consensus,” Phineas said a moment before Rafferty discretely jabbed him in the ribs.

“It was a quick and spontaneous ceremony,” Rafferty said. “Not many know of it as yet.” Arianne felt Rafferty’s hand slide up and down the curve of her waist. The stays in her corset communicated the stimulation like a telegraph to more sensitive areas. She bit her lower lip in agitation.

“I shall write Kitty this evening,” Lady Weston said. “She’ll be so pleased at your good fortune. The legation is in need of levity and joyous news.”

And then all of London would know of her marriage. It was a good thing William was at Deerfield Abbey.

“Allow me to express my condolences,” Rafferty said, releasing Arianne and taking Lady Weston’s hand. “While I hadn’t the pleasure of knowing Lord Weston, I’ve heard nothing but wonderful things about him. He was a good man.”

“Thank you,” Lady Weston murmured. “Thank you for that. The newspapers weren’t nearly so kind.” She took his arm and led him deeper into the residence.

Arianne followed behind. “How could that be?”

“He was found in the company of another woman,” Lady Weston said. “In a hotel, and not a particularly good one.” She resumed her progress down the passageway. “The papers said he murdered the poor girl and then took his own life, but I know better.” She ushered them into a salon. “Someone murdered my husband”—her voice broke—“and then tried to sully his good name.”

“Michael will find the one responsible. Have no fear on that score,” Arianne said.

Lady Weston motioned for them to sit.

“Have you decided to return to London?” Arianne asked, glancing about the room. Though adequately furnished, the small details that made a residence a home had been removed. No framed photographs graced the piano. None of Lady Weston’s renowned china collection cluttered the walls.

“I’m taking Lord Weston back with me so he might be laid to eternal rest with his family. The SS
Oceanic
departs from New York in three days. I’ve already booked passage for the both of us.”

“I apologize for my indelicacy, Lady Weston,” Rafferty said, “but was your husband cremated?”

Lady Weston gasped. “We are not pagans, sir!”

“I had not thought you were, madam.” Arianne observed Rafferty’s attempted recovery. Blast! They should have spent more time on personal diplomacy. “May I inquire where your husband’s body currently resides?”

“In a coffin, naturally.” Lady Weston frowned as if he were deranged, then turned to Arianne. “I was afraid I would not be able to find something suitable here, but you’d be surprised at the local craftsmanship. We will have the full funeral service at home, of course, where Lord Weston is best remembered.”

“My husband and I had hoped to pay our respects to Lord Weston before you take him home,” Arianne said with a quick look toward Rafferty.

Lady Weston smiled and patted her hand. “I’ve placed him in the front salon for just that purpose. The newspapers couldn’t stop those who truly admired him from paying their respects.”

“Would you still have those newspapers?” Rafferty asked.

“I’ve instructed Evans to place them in my husband’s office,” she said. “Liars, all of them. I’ve banned those rumormongers from the legation.” She turned toward Arianne. “The girl was as common as they come. Mary O’Shay was her name. My husband had higher standards. It is preposterous to think that someone of his station would have the slightest interest in a woman of that sort.” She pulled at the black lace of her sleeve. “He was meeting her for some matter of state.”

“I’m certain that he was,” Arianne assured her, though she thought it unlikely. If indeed the woman was as common as Lady Weston represented, she surely wouldn’t have knowledge of affairs of state . . . or would she? Arianne thought of Rafferty and his elevated position within the diplomatic community.

Tears glittered in the widow’s eyes. “Why would someone want to harm my husband?”

“I don’t have the answer to that now, madam. But rest assured I will presently.” Rafferty stood. “If you’ll pardon us, Phineas and I will begin upon that very investigation immediately.” They stood to leave the room.

“Time is the enemy in an investigation such as this,” Arianne reassured the widow, darting a glare at Rafferty. “Their abrupt departure is not a reflection on your gracious welcome.”

 

RAFFERTY TURNED TO PHINEAS OUTSIDE THE DOOR. “There must be a policing force. Can you find out who they are and where I need to go to speak with them? I also need to know when the next ship is heading back to England. I intend Barings and Eva to be on it.” Hopefully, he could dispense with that little annoyance fairly quickly. Briggs was confining them to the
Irish Rose
for the time being. Still, he’d feel more secure if they were on the way back and not free to meddle with his plans.

“I’m going to search Weston’s office here. I’m going to need to see the room where the shooting occurred, and I’m going to have you see what you can find on this Mary O’Shay. Hopefully, I can find something in the office that will explain the purpose of their meeting.”