The Accidental Mistress (2 page)

‘It’s not a suitor I’m after Aunt,’ Sophie protested, ‘It’s Alice that concerns me.’

‘And you’re a dear sweet girl because of it.’ Aunt Felecia agreed warmly, ‘But you’re almost two and twenty, Sophie dear which is a dangerous position to be in. Another Season and I’m afraid your chances of making a decent catch will be gone. But with Alice settled, we will progress. I believe I saw young Merrivale making eyes at you at the Hamilton’s rout on Saturday.
He’s
a likely fellow, wouldn’t you say? Good family, a solid five thousand a year.’

But Sophie hadn’t wanted to be drawn on potential suitors. She had given up any idea of marriage two years before when her father, blessed with six healthy children, had been unable to fund a Season in London. Sophie and her sisters would have to be content with modest dances and rural balls. She was quite resigned to the possible life of a spinster, if no suitable match came her way, although she’d gladly taken up her aunt’s offer to keep her cousin company in London, even if her wardrobe
would
look dreadfully provincial. Her time in London wasn’t about putting herself on the market. It was about finding Alice the best possible husband and so Sophie had accepted the invitation very happily. Her aunt, a single-minded woman, had not given up on her niece securing a suitable marriage while she was in town, however and spent a great deal of time on the subject. Sophie had extracted herself with difficulty, just as anxious as when she’d walked into the room.

The entire reason that Aunt Felicia had come down from Yorkshire and had taken the house in Half Moon Street had been to ensure the beautiful Alice had a successful Season, followed by a glorious match. Felicia Gaskell, nee Tanner, had started life out as a mill owner’s daughter but had caught the eye of the local squire when she had been just as young – and almost as lovely – as her daughter. She’d done well for herself and she intended that her daughter do even better. But to think that a man like Roxburghe might come up to snuff…well, Sophie simply didn’t believe it for a moment.

Several hours later, sitting in front of her mirror as she prepared for the evening ahead, Sophie wondered if it was just jealousy that made her believe that Alice was aiming too high. Back home Sophie was considered a passable beauty but next to her cousin she paled into insignificance. Was she secretly resentful because her cousin received all the attention? Sophie grimaced at her reflection. ‘If that is indeed the case then shame on you Sophie Hartwell!’ For say what one would about Alice, she had a good heart even if she had been taught to think only of herself. There wasn’t a bad bone in her whole body, just a lot of foolish ones. But Roxburghe, curse him, wasn’t looking for intelligent conversation in his conquests. Sophie bit her lip and wondered how she could save Alice from a dark and miserable future for, as lovely as she was, if she gave herself to Roxburghe no man of any consequence would take her as a bride.

Half an hour later, she stood behind her cousin, waiting to be announced at Lady Richmond’s ball. Resplendent in her new satin, Alice had never looked lovelier and drew every eye in the room. Sophie hung back, surveying the crowd of people, searching for one, particular face. A lean, handsome face with wicked dark eyes; the Marquises of Roxburghe was not the kind of man to fade into the wallpaper. She knew that her cousin was also looking for him but there was no sign of his tall, distinctive figure. Too early, Sophie thought wryly, relaxing a little. Never let it be said that Roxburghe might arrive somewhere before ten o’clock.

Perhaps she was on edge but she sensed the moment he arrived and looked towards the door quickly. Despite her dislike of the man, her breath caught at the sight of him. As usual, he appeared to have dressed with scant regard for convention and yet the black topcoat and breeches he wore looked as if they melded seamlessly onto his tall, lean frame. His cravat was loosely knotted, the only dash of color apart from his claret vest. There was a general air of rakish indifference about him but Sophie knew that not even the most exacting dowager would say a word of censure to his face. Perhaps that was the problem, Sophie thought sourly, shaking free of her momentary bedazzlement; everybody let the man behave exactly as he wished.

Sophie spent the next three hours lurking on the edges of the dance floor, her eyes alternatively on her cousin or on Roxburghe. Apart from one dance, he didn’t go near Alice but Sophie wasn’t deceived. She caught several shared looks between them and her trepidation increased. Something was going on, of that there was no doubt. She was increasingly convinced that Roxburghe intended to run away with her cousin.

And that was out of the question. She could not stand around and let Alice run off with the Marquis, ruining any chances the girl had for the future. Something
had
to be done.

The question was, what?

‘Drake? Have you done as I asked?’

‘I have, my Lord.’ Silas Drake looked at his employer, face expressionless, although there was plenty going on behind the mask. ‘The landau will be ready and waiting at two. I have sent word ahead to Mrs. Chambers to expect your arrival and have cancelled your engagement with Lord Enderby tomorrow.’

‘Excellent.’

Drake looked at the Marquis of Roxburghe’s dark head, bent over the page of instructions he was scribbling down, a vague list of things that he wanted his secretary to see to while he was out of London.

Mentally, Drake shook his head. There was trouble on the wind, he could sense it. The young fool was up to mischief and who could say what the result would be? His employer seemed intent on turning the very society he belonged to against him with his increasingly reckless behavior. Two duels in the past twelve months, a stint in France after the last one when it looked as if he’d killed young Francis Beckham. It was only luck that had seen the boy recover, allowing Devereux to return home again.

Drake knew that air of restless excitement that clung to Dev tonight. And he’d been drinking, not enough to incapacitate him but more than enough to silence any small voice of reason, which might council caution. Lord knows, it was faint enough at the best of times.

Uneasiness touched him. What devilry was Roxburghe up to now?

‘May I ask when you will be returning to London, Sir?’

Roxburghe paused, considering this. ‘Not for several weeks, I expect. But sooner if things do not go as I plan.’ He shot his secretary a smile, the kind that rarely got an airing in public. To his servants and his friends, Devereux was a different man, free with his friendship and generous to a fault. It generated a great deal of loyalty in those who knew him well. ‘You can manage, Silas. You always do.’

‘Yes.’ Drake agreed, then paused. He cleared his throat. ‘This is a very sudden trip down to Dorset, my Lord.’

Roxburghe finished off his list, wiping the quill tip with a cloth. ‘Stop fishing. You know perfectly well why I’m heading to Dorset.’

Drake sighed. ‘I very much fear I do. It’s that Gaskell girl, isn’t it?’

Roxburghe shook his head ruefully. ‘The worst kept secret in London. Damn all females. You can never trust ‘em to keep their mouths shut.’

‘As you say.’ Drake cleared his throat, ‘Are you sure that it’s
wise
to leave town right now? I mean, it’s the height of the Season. Your absence will be noted.’ And so will Alice Gaskell’s, was the unspoken rider.

Roxburghe went still for a moment, and Drake knew his employer was suddenly looking inwards at a landscape that only he could see. It must not be a pleasant place, Drake reflected because it altered the man’s face subtly. He’d worked for Dev for four years and had seen that look before but he had no real idea what it meant except that there was a darkness deep within his employer. It was this darkness that prompted the wild behavior and reckless enthusiasms. And an almost astonishing disregard for the consequences of his actions. There were times when the devil rode the Marquis of Roxburghe and tonight, the devil had him in hand once again.

‘Society will survive,’ Dev said finally, coming back to the room as he shook off whatever had taken hold of him, ‘And I’m bored of it anyway. I’ll send word when I mean to return.’

‘Very well Sir.’

Roxburghe rose to his feet and clapped his secretary on the shoulder, high spirits returning as quickly as they had vanished. ‘Cheer up Silas! It’s a fine night for a ride and I’m sure I’ll find much to amuse me in Dorset.’

‘Take care, Dev.’ Drake urged softly.

Roxburghe laughed. ‘I think not Silas. Life is too short to watch where I put my feet. I intend to enjoy myself while I can and to hell with the rest!’

Two o’clock in the morning.

Sophie, dressed in her warmest gown, a hooded cloak in hand, peeped into her cousin’s room. Alice had made a great to do after she had returned from the ball of yawning widely as she’d headed up the stairs.

‘Oh my! I am so tired I can barely keep my eyes open.’

Sophie had taken in this pantomime grimly. It was becoming increasingly obvious to Sophie that her cousin’s rendezvous with Roxburghe was tonight. She’d been hoping she would have more time to come up with a plan, a few more days to think of some dazzling idea. At the very least, Sophie had been hoping that her uncle would have returned home, for he would surely have intervened. Was there ever such a goose as her ridiculous cousin? ‘Why don’t you go and get into bed? I’ll bring up a warm drink for you.’

‘I don’t need a drink. I think I’ll just go straight to sleep.’

‘Nonsense,’ Sophie had said firmly, ‘It will be just the thing to settle you down for the night.’

And it had been for she had slipped a small amount of laudanum into her cousin’s cup; not much, just enough to
really
put her off to sleep and out of harm’s way for the night. It had been a way to ensure that Alice stayed in her bed. As the hours ticked by, Sophie paced the floor, thinking. If circumstances had been different, she might have gone and woken her aunt when they’d returned home. But there was no surety that Aunt Felicia would not pack a portmanteau for her daughter, in the mistaken belief that she was going to elope with the Marquis.

And Sophie was sure that this was no elopement. Roxburghe’s intentions were far from honorable. He intended to take Alice away and seduce her.

After checking that her cousin was fast asleep, Sophie went and sat by the window that overlooked the street below, waiting for a carriage to appear. She had come up with a daring plan that would take all the ingenuity she could muster if she were going to truly sabotage this foolish tryst. If Sophie didn’t do something decisive, Alice would wake in the morning and the whole sorry business would start again. And Sophie may not be on hand a second time to prevent disaster from taking place. She
had
to ensure that Roxburghe lost interest in Alice once and for all. Only then could Alice begin looking for a more suitable candidate for her hand.

And if Alice and Aunt Felicia objected to her well-meaning interference?

That possibility was something Sophie pushed firmly to the back of her mind. They may not appreciate what she was doing but then, they didn’t understand men like Roxburghe.

And you do
? A little voice quizzed quietly in the back of her mind.
Sophie Hartwell, you are about to enter into battle with a man whose reputation for ruthless misbehavior is renowned. Clearly you have gone completely mad!

Which was true but she’d do what she must, never the less. By the time she was finished with Roxburghe he would be glad to wash his hands of anything to do with her family. She could only hope that, when her cousin was settled with another, more suitable man, Alice would find it in her heart to forgive her.

The sound of carriage wheels on the street below brought her attention sharply back into the moment and her heart began to race. She had assumed that Alice would have agreed to slip out the front door, which was exactly what she intended to do. She quickly donned her cloak, pulling the capacious hood up then seized her reticule, her gloved fingers shaking a little. She was hoping she had brought enough money to secure a hackney for the journey home, for it was doubtful that Roxburghe would be so obliging after they’d finished with each other.

Sophie made her way down the stairs silently and unbolted the front door. It was cold outside and a light drizzle was falling, which was good news as it gave her an excellent excuse not to lower her hood. She wanted to be well away from Half Moon Street when Roxburghe discovered that he had taken the wrong girl.

He had brought a landau with four horses, which meant that he intended to move quickly. Instead of riding inside with her, his lordship clearly intended to ride along side. He slid off his horse when she emerged, moving forward to take her hands in his own. ‘You came!’

Sophie nodded, hoping he would take her silence as nothing more than nerves. She squeezed his hands to reassure him. He gave a low laugh.

‘Don’t be anxious, my little love. Soon we shall be together and I will make you forget anything in the world exists but the two of us. I’m glad you listened to me and brought no luggage along. I’ll provide everything you might possibly need.’ The low note in his voice was seductive and Sophie shivered. ‘You are cold and no wonder. Come along. We’ve a way to go.’

A way to go? Where was he intending to take her?
Sophie had assumed he would bring Alice to his house next to Regents Park. She would do what she must and be home by morning, hopefully with her aunt and Alice none the wiser. ‘I -’

‘It’s all right. There’s a basket of food in the carriage and some wine. Wrap yourself up and sleep. We’ll be there soon enough if you sleep.’

And with that he handed her up into the carriage and closed the door. Sophie sat very still on the well-sprung seat, wondering if she should open the door and return inside, before it was too late. Perhaps it would be enough, if he believed that Alice had changed her mind. Perhaps if she climbed out now and ran up the front steps, he would be so disgusted that he would forget all about Alice Gaskell, moving on to greener pastures…