The Luck of the Devil (12 page)
"You were mistaken, Larry. I never disliked you for being a bastard, I despised you for acting like one."
He tied the ends of the bandage off in a knot and stood back. "Now what would you have me do? Welcome a kidnapper, extortionist, near murderer to the family fold? I think not." Carey touched the new mark on his cheek, then turned to the woman who was his father's mistress, his bastard cousin's wife. "My offer still stands," he told her, "with minor variations. I have some unwanted property in Jamaica. The slaves have already been freed, but the land is profitable. It is yours, along with passage there for you, the boy, and this piece of trash. An account for the boy shall be opened in Kingston. In two days' time there shall also be a warrant issued for your arrest, both of you. If you are found, if you ever set foot in England again, it will be served. You may take your chances with the law, but I do not suggest that course. I have money, witnesses, your forged letters, and a definite limit to my compassion."
It was better than she hoped. The woman agreed.
"We'll stop at that inn and have them send for a doctor. I'll see you get the proper papers tomorrow." He called for Suzannah and Woody, and shepherded his valiant troop out the door. Then he turned back. "One last thing has been bothering me. Tell me, was there ever a Mr. Reardon?"
She threw a candy dish at his head. Carey laughed.
E
veryone was chaperoned for the ride home. Rudd led off driving the Wimberly curricle, with Suzannah and Woody on the seat with him. It was a tight squeeze, but neither Woody nor Suzannah complained.
A bit behind, Carey held the ribbons of his own equipage with one hand, Miss Wimberly with the other. Old Scratch played dogsberry, balanced on the tiger's bench behind, his tongue tasting the night air and only occasionally drooling on his master's shoulder. His ears caught the breeze and the fond words as the carriage dropped farther and farther behind the other vehicle.
The words did not begin quite so tenderly.
"If you ever put yourself into danger like that again I'll thrash you to within an inch of your life. Do you know how I felt, seeing that gun pointed at you?" Carey squeezed her closer, as if to keep her from harm.
Rowanne felt safe and warm, warmer indeed than the cool evening warranted. "I couldn't very well just sit around and wait, not when Suzannah might need help. And I did tell you I was a managing sort of woman."
"Good," Carey told her, looking into her eyes, seeing stars reflected in their depths. He smiled, that heart-stopping smile that made her toes curl. "I need managing," he went on. "Rudd cannot do the job alone."
"Ah, about Rudd…" She fussed with the blanket across their laps.
"Don't worry, sweetheart, he understands. Of course I had to promise him the new ivory leg he's had his eye on, as a wedding present."
"Oh, is he getting married?"
Then the curricle came to a halt altogether, while Carey demonstrated to Rowanne exactly who should be getting wed and why. Scratch had time to jump off and visit a bush before the horses were moving again.
"You will marry me, won't you, my dearest Rowanne?" Carey begged when he could speak again. "I have loved you so long, but things kept getting in the way. Wars, wicked women… It seems I have been wanting forever to ask."
"And I have been waiting forever. I think I loved you from our first dance," she told him, which required another long halt and a few deep breaths afterward.
"You were so graceful, like a swaying rose in my arms." Carey sighed, clucking the horses to motion. "Do you mind that we'll never have another dance like it?"
"Why, silly, because of your injury? The memory of our first waltz will be that much sweeter."
"You remember, then?"
"Everything. Every word, every smile, even that first night at Almack's when you were so gay and dashing." She watched him now as he watched the horses, memorizing every inch of his splendid profile, thinking he was even more handsome now, if that was possible.
"And you were so sweet and lovely. I still have the cameo, you know. I carry it always."
"For luck?"
"No, for love."
Scratch was getting tired, jumping on and off the vehicle. They were going so slowly, when they moved at all, that he could just amble alongside.
Carey had other things on his mind. "You do understand it will mean giving up some of the Town life you are used to, don't you? St. Dillon's has been neglected far too long, and I mean to learn to be a responsible landlord. Shall you mind very much?"
"May I grow roses?"
He looked at her in surprise. "Do you know how to grow roses?"
"No, but I mean to learn, and daffodils too. It's what I've always wanted, to watch things grow, not just ferns in tubs and oranges in the conservatory, but real things, from seeds."
Carey hugged her and chuckled. "My precious, we shall learn together, but even I know daffodils grow from bulbs. Besides, you'll be busy fixing up the Abbey. It's in much worse condition than the London house."
Rowanne laughed delightedly. "Wonderful, I cannot wait to start!"
"When?" he asked, nuzzling her ear. "When will you start? Tonight? I know the way to Gretna Green, we could just keep going."
"But, Carey, think of what Suzannah would say! A runaway marriage would not suit your dignities, and a duchess must think more of propriety." Right then she was finding it difficult to think at all.
"Devil take propriety and dignity both! I'll give you three weeks for the banns to be read, not one day longer."
"Why?" she teased, feeling his breath stir her hair. "Are you afraid I won't love you anymore, after all these years?"
"No," he answered, knotting the reins around the railing to keep the horses from bolting while he convinced her. "I'm just afraid my luck will finally run out."
