The Dangerous Love of a Rogue (41 page)

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Authors: Jane Lark

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #Regency, #General

BOOK: The Dangerous Love of a Rogue
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“I still love him. I will always love him.”

Kate’s fingers gripped Mary’s knee a little tighter and Mary sipped the lemonade, fresh tears slipping from her eyes, and agony clutching at her heart.

When Kate’s fingers slid away Mary leant to set the glass down, looking at her sister-in-law.

She’d told no one this. “And I am carrying his child. Please do not tell Mama and Papa, not yet, I need time to get used to the idea.”

“Oh, Mary.”

Kate hugged her close, as tears slid down Mary’s cheeks in rivers.

“All will be well. You have us all to help you.”

Mary did not answer, she could not, she just held on to Kate.

She had not only taken herself away from Andrew, but his child too. A child who she did not want to know its father. She did not want anyone to know. This was her pain, her secret – that she had created a child with a man who did not love her. But she would not be able to hide it forever. She could hide herself, though, and that’s what she wished to do, hide away and pretend this had never happened.

Kate’s hand brushed over Mary’s hair, then she pulled away. “John and I told lies too. After the party he held in Ashford, while you were at the end of your mourning for your grandfather, we made love. I went to him because I loved him. He did not love me then, but I fell pregnant and John did the honourable thing. He loves me now, Mary.”

“Of course, he loves you,” Mary whispered, clutching Kate’s hand, she had not known that. “I see it in his eyes every time he looks at you.”

Kate smiled. “I know. I did not tell you because I needed reassurance. I said it so you’d know things are not always straightforward. Perhaps things aren’t as they seem. Perhaps things will work out for you too.”

“He has a mistress, Kate.”

“And you are carrying a child which you have both made. At some point you have to tell him, you cannot keep the child a secret when it is born. It would be wrong to stop the child knowing its father. I’d intended to keep my child a secret from John, but you’ve seen how he adores Paul, it would have been cruel.”

Mary sighed. Kate’s mother took her own life, Kate knew what it would be like for a child not to know its parent.

But if Mary told Andrew he could take the child from her, and then her only option would be to go back. But what if he then refused to take her back?

The situation only seemed to worsen.

“Why not come home to Pembroke Place with John and I? You will be left alone to think things over and heal a little, without the noise of all the children. We can go to tomorrow. John can still travel into town to attend the House of Lords and your parents will agree I’m sure. Then when you feel more able you can tell them and Andrew about the child.”

“I’d prefer to be away from the others. I know it’s selfish…”

“It is not selfish, Mary. The children cannot understand, and your parents must share out their time among you all. But you know they love you…”

Mary smiled, “Yes.”

“Now eat, though. You must think of the child, and not only yourself and I had better go and tell John that we’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Will he mind?”

“You know he will not. He’d do anything for you, he loves you dearly, and it’s no trouble to him to travel back when he needs to. He prefers being on the estate anyway, he’ll be glad of an excuse to go.”

Catching Kate’s hand before she turned away, Mary said, “Thank you.”

“You need not thank me. You are my sister.”

“Would you send Mama to me, and I’ll tell her I will leave with you?”

Chapter 32

It took two weeks to get the deeds signed over and organise a date, time, and place, to get Caro away. But now the day had come to move her.

Drew met her in Mayfair, in Madame Duval’s, the modiste’s, to make it look to Kilbride’s staff as though she was simply shopping.

Drew turned as she slipped out of the back of the shop. “Caro.” He leant and kissed her cheek, gripping her hands. They were shaking. “Come.” Keeping a hold of one he pulled her on through the shop yard.

“Did they query your exit?”

“No, I asked the modiste if I might use her closet, but there is a footman waiting for me in the shop.”

“Then we had best hurry.” Drew Pulled her through the back gate, and then began to run at a slow jog, forcing Caro to do the same. “There is a hired carriage at the end of the alley, I ordered it in a false name, and we will change carriages once we are out of London, and go the opposite way, and then change again. No one will be able to trace you. Where was Kilbride when you left?”

“I waited until he’d left for the House of Lords, he will be there hours before he knows I am gone. He cannot abide being interrupted while he is in The House.”

Drew had left the carriage door ajar so they could ascend quickly, he handed her in, and climbed in behind her. “Go!” he yelled up to the driver as he shut the door. The carriage jolted forward. He fell into the seat beside Caro, then pulled the blinds down to hide them from view.

Caro breathed heavily her hands shaking even more as she pulled a folded silk handkerchief from her reticule. “I have brought something to help. I cannot allow you to support me entirely, Drew.” Gold and jewels glinted in the low light of the carriage as she opened the handkerchief. “They are all gifts he has given me, they were mine to take, earbobs, hair slides, bracelets and necklaces.”

Drew smiled awkwardly, he had not expected her to bring anything, but if she sold these, they would help her live better. He had not told her his circumstances had changed. He’d thought if he did, she would change her mind and refuse to leave.

Drew leaned to the window, and looked about the blind at Kilbride’s carriage as they passed the shop front. There were no panicked servants surrounding it. The footmen must still be waiting patiently inside.

The journey out of London was fast and easy, and when they arrived in Maidstone the housekeeper he’d hired was waiting at the cottage to settle Caro in.

The cottage was small, there were two rooms downstairs, a kitchen and a parlour, and two upstairs, with an attic for the housekeeper. He’d had the housekeeper stock it with clothing and everything Caro needed, furniture, food and other provisions.

Knowing Caro was anxious and afraid of what was to come, he stayed with her for a couple of hours and drank tea with her in the sitting room.

He thought of Mary, as Caro talked with the housekeeper.

He’d not thought of Mary for most of the day, because his thoughts had been absorbed by helping Caro… but now… as they sat in the cramped little parlour he remembered all the moments he’d shared with Mary that had been commonplace like this. The afternoon they’d played chess. He wished for more. He longed for her. For quiet peaceful moments with her. Even to sit in her brother’s damned drawing room and drink tea with her.

“Drew…”

But his hope of Mary had passed. The sunny drawing room of their own small house in the country would only ever be a figment of his imagination. He smiled at Caro. To reassure her. “Sorry, I rose early, I am tired, and wool gathering…” The truth was he had barely slept since Mary had left, but he lay no blame on her. All the blame was his. He had made a very large mess of his marriage.

Caro leaned forward and gripped his hand for an instant. It was laughable… the two of them… When he’d eloped with Mary he had deemed her life’s flotsam. No. She had not been. She was protected and loved by the numerous members of her family. He and Caro were flotsam. Two lost souls searching for what they thought ought to be theirs by right, with no capacity to find it, because they were too damaged by their years adrift.

“I should leave you.” Drew stood. Kilbride would guess he’d been involved with helping Caro if he did not get back to London. He had to return to town to quell the rumours and cover any potential tracks.

“Caro, you know I cannot return for a while, Kilbride will have people watching me for weeks, we both know it. Do not write either, it is not worth taking the risk. I will come as soon as I can but in the meantime, simply live quietly here.”

She nodded. But then she lifted to her toes and hugged him. Crying.

“You must be brave, Caro, stay calm and stay strong and sit it out here. He will not find you, I promise.”

She nodded again.

“I’m very grateful, Drew. I cannot tell you how grateful.”

He smiled.

* * *

Several hours later Drew climbed the steps of Sheffield’s town house with Brooke by his side to attend Sheffield’s ball. He was here as a deliberate bluff, for Caro’s sake. He knew Kilbride would be looking for him, and he was here to send a silent message – you will not find her.

But truthfully that was not the only reason he was here – he hoped for a glimpse of Mary. He and Peter had attended several balls so he might be able to see her, to ease his soul and know she was well.

The last time he had seen her had been the day she’d left – the day he’d loved her and she’d loved him back.

God that moment haunted him. Why the hell had she let him do it?

Yet he would not speak to her if he saw her. The emotion inside him pulled for him to go to her brother’s and win her back. But he refused to act on it. She was better off without him. They were too different.

A deep sigh left Drew’s lips as the footman stepped aside to let them in and Peter looked over his shoulder. “I doubt she’s here.”

“I doubt it too; it does not stop me wishing, though…”

Peter gripped Drew’s shoulder as they walked through the hall towards the music and voices. “I told you to write to her. I’m sure Marlow would pass it on.”

“More likely he’d burn it and if he did not, then Mary probably would.”

Peter’s hand fell away. “You were an ass, my friend. But I still do not understand why you sent the bloody money back.”

“It seemed wrong to keep it. It was her money.”

“Not legally.”

“Who cares about legality? I just wish I’d had it all to give back, but I’d already paid my debts and I need money to support Caro.” He had some in a trust fund.

“Still I bet it had the man shocked.”

“I doubt it. I think my name is a swear word in Pembroke’s house. But regardless I am glad of your help. I’d rather work for you than borrow from you again. I need to do something with my life. If she wants a divorce I’ll let her have it but I’ll not marry again. I’m done with the parson’s noose and I’m done with women. I shall happily bury myself in the country with your horses.”

“You’ve an eye for them and a skill. I am doing myself a favour not you, Fram. When you take over the stud, I’ll have the best racers out there.”

“Your faith may be misplaced,”

“Let me be the judge of that,” Peter whispered their final aside as they crossed the threshold into the bright light of the ballroom.

Drew surveyed the room, looking for Marlow but only to find Mary. They were not there. But the Wiltshires, the Bradfords and the Barringtons were. He’d seen them all twice before. He’d not seen Pembroke or Marlow at all.

The Duke of Wiltshire gave Drew a bitter stare.

Drew’s gut turned over. What had Mary said to them?

They’d hated him before. They must despise him now. If any of them carried daggers, they’d be in his back.

Wiltshire turned his back, in a cutting gesture. It was nothing to a man whose own mother refused to acknowledge his existence.

Speaking of that, she was here too, with the Marquis and Drew’s eldest brother and his wife. They probably credited his ill-fate to themselves for making Mary see that he was a pathetic, worthless bastard.

“Not here,” Peter said. Drew knew he meant Mary. “But Kilbride is,” Peter concluded. “And so is my sister, come on, she’ll tell us any rumours that are circulating.”

Even though Wiltshire had turned his back, Drew sensed the man’s gaze follow him. He was getting used it.

“Hayley,” Peter kissed his sister’s cheek. “Spill, what are we missing, what is going on tonight?”

She held out her hand to Drew. He’d known her since she was a child. Drew gripped her fingers and bowed over them, then lifted them to his lips for an instant. She smiled as he straightened. “You are the gossip, Drew. Since that announcement. I believe your wife has left town. Certainly both Pembroke and Marlow have gone. You men, you do as you like and leave us women to suffer.”

“She left me.” Belligerence burned in Drew’s voice. He had not expected them to announce the separation. “I thought their announcement made that clear.” He schooled his voice, he did not want the world to know how hurt he was.

Hayley’s fan tapped at his upper arm. “And you are entirely innocent I suppose, she left you for no reason at all…”

“None that I can think of.” His tone was dry now.

Hayley’s gaze passed over his shoulder and her eyes widened. Her fingers gripped at his sleeve. “Have you some grievance with the Marquis of Kilbride? He is coming this way with a look of thunder on his face.”

“The jig is already up then.” Peter said.

“Lord Framlington!” the Marquis of Kilbride’s bellow rang about the high ceilinged hall, bouncing off the mirrors and the glass, echoing over the music which played on, and the conversation which then ceased.

Damn it,
Drew had known this scene would come, but he’d thought Kilbride would challenge him in private; he had not expected him to do so at a ball, and certainly not before Mary’s kin. This would add even more fuel to their fire.

Setting a twisted be-damned smile on his lips, Drew turned. Perhaps having this out in public was preferential. In private Kilbride would have brought his thugs and probably dumped Drew’s broken body in a back alley. Still he’d made a will in case and left everything to Caro, so even if Kilbride did get him, he would not win. She would have her cottage, and all she needed to survive.

Guilt hit him.

Mary’s money had bought the cottage; if he died, it ought to go to Mary but he could not leave Caro unprotected.

As Kilbride neared, Drew stiffened his spine, stretching up the two inches he had over his brother-in-law. “Is there something you wish to say to me?”

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