The Player (Rockliffe Book 3) (39 page)

‘If you ask me,’ remarked Nicholas, unable to stay
silent any longer, ‘he belongs in a straight-jacket.
 
Give it up, Dev.
 
There’s not a thing in him worth saving.
 
Just go on upstairs and tell Lord Holderness
to send him for trial.’

‘That is clearly the obvious course.’
 
Sarre paused, appearing to think about
it.
 
‘Shall I do it, Marcus?
 
Shall I supply the last act to this farce
you’ve created?’

He shrugged, his face pale and glistening with
sweat. ‘Why ask me?’

This time the silence was a long one.
 
But finally Sarre said, ‘Do you regret
anything
you’ve done?
 
Any single part of it?’

‘Yes.
 
I regret
letting you win.
 
Is that what you wanted
to hear?
 
Why you came?’

‘No.
 
I wanted
you to understand that, in setting out to destroy my life, you’ve only
succeeded in ruining your own … and that you have no one but yourself to blame
for your current predicament.
 
You’ve
thrown your good name down the drain in the wake of your money – and if you’d
married Caroline you’d have done the same thing all over again. There isn’t a
shred of honour in you.’

‘And you’d know, I suppose?’

‘After your final piece of lunacy two days ago, I
think I’m as fair a judge as anyone. If you wanted to kill me that badly, I’ve
offered to fight you more than once – but you hadn’t the nerve for it.
 
As to your bungled attempt at murder … it’s
your misfortunate that, along with Lord Nicholas, his brother was also a guest
in my house at the time.’
 
He watched the
import of this strike home and a hard smile curled his mouth. ‘Rockliffe isn’t
about to keep what he knows to himself and he will be believed.
 
So even if you walked out of here a free man
and found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, you would still be
finished in England.’

Suddenly Marcus’s nerve broke.
 
He said, ‘You can’t prove it was me.
 
You can’t.’

‘Don’t be a bigger fool than you can help.
 
You used my – my housekeeper as bait.
 
Do you think she’d have any difficulty
identifying you? It’s over and you’ve lost.
 
Face it,’ snapped Sarre. ‘And there’s one other thing you should
know.
 
I didn’t marry Caroline either for
her money or to hurt you.
 
Odd as you may
find it, you are not that important to me.
 
I did it because she makes me happier than I’ve been in a very long
time.
 
And that, though you won’t
appreciate it, is the only thing that’s stopping me putting a noose around your
neck.’

Silence stretched out on invisible threads while
Marcus worked it out.

‘What are you saying?’ he asked weakly.

‘I’m saying I’m going to ask the Lord Warden to
put you on a boat from Dover – from where you can go to hell in your own
way.
 
But if I ever see you again … if
you ever come near Caroline, I shall very probably kill you myself.
 
Aside from that, you’re welcome to spend the
rest of your miserable life knowing that you owe every day of it to me.’

~
 
*
 
*
 
~
 
*
 
* ~

Bertrand had a great deal to say on the subject of
Adrian’s idiocy in deciding to let Lord Sheringham go.
 

Adrian listened patiently enough but, in the end, said
flatly, ‘Yes.
 
I know. He’s a bastard in
every sense but the true one and you think I should cut out his black heart and
fry it – something I’ll consider if he ever surfaces again.
 
But if he’d been brought to trial for trying
to kill me, the ramifications don’t bear thinking about.
 
It would come out that Evie was carrying his
child when she died, thus causing speculation as to whether she jumped because
neither of us would marry her – meaning that Mr
Bailes
would have to testify.
 
I don’t want
that.
 
Meanwhile, mud would be flying in
all directions and some of it would stick.
 
Even if Rockliffe stood at my back throughout it all – which isn’t
something I’d ask him to do – Caroline would still find herself embroiled in a
scandal that was none of her making and I won’t have that either.’
 
He paused and drew a short breath. ‘Finally, I’m
damned if I’m going to sink to Sheringham’s level.
 
And it’s done now – so can we please stop
talking about it?’

He found Caroline sitting on her bed in rapt
contemplation of three large dress boxes.
 
He said, ‘Ah.
 
They arrived,
then.’

‘Yes.’

‘But you thought looking at the boxes would be
more fun than opening them?’

‘No.
 
I
thought opening them would be more fun if you were here.
 
So I waited.’ She turned, her eyes brimming
with mock-accusation. ‘You were
ages!
’

Adrian doubted there was another woman in the
length and breadth of Europe who could leave a dressmaker’s box unopened for
more than five minutes.
 
Really, his
Caroline was an unfailing source of delight.
 
Looking back at the boxes, he said thoughtfully, ‘Given that they’re all
identical, how is it that the middle one manages to appear superior?’

‘I don’t know.
 
It’s a mystery.’

‘It is.’
 
He
grinned and decided to stop teasing. ‘Caroline … if you don’t open them,
I
will.’

‘You’re so impatient,’ she scolded, dropping to
her knees on the floor to investigate the one he’d called superior.
 
‘Don’t you know that anticipation is half the
pleasure?’

A wicked gleam lit the silver eyes and he said,
‘Some of the pleasure, I grant you.
 
But
not half – nor even a quarter.’

Her head remained bent over the ties of the box
but he saw a hint of colour rise to her cheek. ‘I’ll have to take your word for
that.’

‘Yes.’
 
The
truth was that his shoulder was aching like the devil. ‘Unfortunately, you
will.’

Caroline had got inside the box and was peeling
back layers of paper with excruciating care.
 
Then, when the gown was finally revealed, ‘Oh.
 
It – it’s beautiful.’

‘You’re allowed to take it out of the box, you
know,’ remarked Adrian, hoping her attention would remain riveted on the new
gown long enough for him to conduct a discreet examination beneath his brocaded
vest and find out whether the wound was bleeding again.
 
‘In fact, I wish you would.
 
Ordering something from patterns and scraps
of material is a chancy business.
 
I’d
like to know I got it right.’

She stopped stroking the heavily embroidered pale gold
silk and stood up in order to lift the gown from the box.
 
‘You got it
absolutely
right.’
 
She held
the gown against her and gazed at her reflection in the mirror. Then, turning,
‘Tell me you think so.’

He whipped his hand away from his shoulder.
Tilting his head, he conducted a leisurely appraisal of the golden gown against
Caroline’s skin and hair. He said, ‘Yes.
 
I always suspected that shade might look well on you – but it’s even
better than I thought.’
 
He grinned.
 
‘Clearly, I’m a genius.’

‘Or you’ve had a lot of practice buying ladies’
clothes,’ she retorted.
 
And then,
looking stricken, added quickly, ‘I’m sorry.
 
That sounded like a – a criticism or a question.
 
It wasn’t meant to be either.’

The grin faded.

‘There have been women, yes.
 
I’m not a monk – but neither am I a
rake.
 
And it’s all in the past now.
 
You needn’t worry that I’ll insult you by
straying.
 
In truth, I haven’t the least
desire to do so.
 
And I take my promises
seriously.’

Caroline opened her mouth, then closed it again.
 
Finally, she mumbled, ‘I wouldn’t be
insulted.
 
It … it would just hurt.’

Something squeezed at his heart and, for a second,
he let himself wonder how she felt about him; whether it might be more than
liking and physical attraction.
 
Then,
shutting the thought away for future consideration, he said gently, ‘It won’t
happen.
 
I know our relationship began
with a deception but you can trust me not to lie to you – and certainly not about
this.
 
Now … smile for me and open the
other boxes.’

She didn’t smile.
 
She laid the golden gown down and took a step towards him, frowning.

‘You look tired.
 
And pale.
 
Are you all right?’

‘I’m fine.
 
My shoulder aches a little but I’ll get Bertrand to look at it
presently.
 
I may have over-done it this
morning.’
 
He paused and then said, ‘You
haven’t asked where I went.’

Not satisfied but knowing better than to fuss,
Caroline sat down by the next box.

‘I don’t need to ask.’
 
She kept her eyes on her hands.
 
‘You went to see
him
, didn’t you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you want to tell me about it?’
 
She had the ties undone and was lifting the
lid.
 
‘It doesn’t matter if you’d rather
not.’

He was silent for so long that she thought he
wasn’t going to answer.
 
But finally, he
said, ‘I didn’t expect it to be pleasant … and it wasn’t.
 
But in the end, certain things made my
decision easier.
 
One of them was that
he’s a sad excuse for a man; another is that he’ll never trouble us
further.
 
So he’ll be on his way to France
with the next tide.’

‘Ah.’
 
She
sat back on her heels and looked at him. ‘He’s lucky his fate rested in your
hands rather than mine, then.
 
I’d
be doing something creative
involving red-hot pincers.’

He smiled at this. ‘You’re very blood-thirsty.’

‘What do you expect?
 
He could have
killed
you.’
 
Caroline turned
back to the second box. ‘However … after everything he’s done, letting him go
was something very few men would have managed and I respect you for it.’

He looked down on her bent head, resisting the
impulse to drop on to the floor beside her and take her in his arms.
 
He said, ‘Bertrand doesn’t.
 
He thinks I’m an idiot. But I’m glad that you
don’t.
 
Thank you.’

*
 
*
 
*

Mercifully, Adrian’s shoulder had not started
bleeding again and by the following morning, it felt a good deal better –
enabling him to face the journey to Wynstanton Priors with both equanimity and
optimism. His mood was further improved by the sight of his wife,
elegantly-clad in a misty-blue velvet travelling gown, sparsely trimmed with
black braid.
 
Her obvious pleasure in it
and the proud tilt of her head made him smile.

‘What?’ asked Caroline, catching his expression
and feeling suddenly suspicious.

He shook his head.
 
‘I was just enjoying looking at you.’
 
And laughed when she blushed.

For a time, they passed the journey in desultory
conversation that mostly revolved around the Duke of Rockliffe and his
Duchess.
 
Eventually, however, the talk
inevitably returned to Adrian’s decision to waive his options on Marcus
Sheringham’s future; and that was when he said hesitantly, ‘There’s something I
ought to tell you about the consequences of that.’

Caroline frowned a little, suddenly anxious.

‘Consequences?
 
To you?’

‘To both of us.’
 
He paused and then said, ‘It’s possible you won’t feel quite so tolerant
towards me when I tell you what setting him free is going to cost.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘He owes money all over the place. It’s not just
Sinclair’s.
 
It’s his tailor, his
bootmaker, his servants and God knows who else. If he remained in the country,
these people stood some chance of recouping at least part of what they’re owed.
With him gone, they don’t.
 
And that
doesn’t seem very fair.’

Oh Adrian
.
 
Caroline’s heart melted all over again.
You of all people know that life isn’t
always fair and can’t be made so.
 
But I
love you for trying.
 
She said
carefully, ‘He would have fled the country anyway.’

‘I know.’

‘And the mess he’s left behind isn’t your
responsibility.’

‘The debt to Sinclair’s is.
 
Aristide continued allowing Marcus credit far
longer than he’d normally have done because I asked him to – so I have to make
that good.
 
But it’s the servants and
smaller tradesmen who stand to suffer most. They are the ones who can’t afford
the loss. You’ll think it unreasonable, I daresay – but I can’t just ignore
them.’

‘No,’ she sighed.
 
‘You can’t.
 
Anyone else – but not
you. Do you honestly think that, after Lady B’s pearls and Mr
Bailes
and Betsy, I don’t know that?’

He shrugged slightly, looking a little embarrassed.

‘Don’t you want to argue about it?’

‘No.
 
I want
to know what you’re going to do.’

‘Thank you.’

He reached across to take her hands and lift each
in turn to his lips.
 
Smiling a little, Caroline
wondered if he had any idea how very Claude Duvall the gesture was.

‘I’ll do as much as I can. I own the mortgages on
two of his properties.
 
The interest on
both is significantly in arrears so I’ll foreclose, sell them and use the
proceeds to pay off as many of the smaller creditors as I can.
 
The debt to Sinclair’s will come out of my
own pocket.’
 
He stopped, his fingers
tightening on hers and, looking her in the eye, said, ‘
My
pocket, Caroline.
 
I’m
only telling you all this because, as my wife, you have a right to know.
 
I have no intention of touching your
grandfather’s money.
 
That wouldn’t be
appropriate. Besides … I want the gentleman to like me.’

‘I don’t think you need worry about that,’ she
said.
 
‘I, on the other hand, am
beginning to realise that I’ve married a very stubborn fellow. What
am
I going to do with you?’

He sent her a slanting smile of pure invitation.

‘I don’t know.
 
But I could suggest a few things, if you like.’

*
 
*
 
*

They arrived at Wynstanton Priors in the early
afternoon to be greeted on the front steps by Lord Nicholas who had ridden on
ahead.

‘How is the Duchess?’ asked Caroline immediately.

‘She’s fine,’ he replied with a laugh.
 
‘Apparently Rock arrived home to find her
drinking coffee and working her way through a plate of macaroons.
 
She swears she started feeling better the
instant he stopped looming over her.’

‘Oh, that’s splendid news! His Grace must be so
relieved.’

‘He’s back to being his usual annoying self, if
that’s what you mean,’ said Nicholas, ushering them inside.
 
‘How’s the shoulder, Dev?’

‘Still a little stiff – but otherwise, nearly as
good as new.’

‘In that case, you can come riding with me in the
morning.
 
There’s a filly for sale in
Sittingbourne that I’ve a mind to buy.’

The Duke and Duchess rose from the fireside to
greet them and his Grace made the necessary introductions.
 
Caroline was surprised that, though every bit
as elegant as Cassie had said, the Duchess was not a stunning beauty.
 
But then Adeline smiled and took her hands …
and she realised that perhaps her first impression had been overly-simplistic.

When they were all seated and tea had been
brought, Rockliffe said, ‘Well, Adrian … Nicholas says you sent Sheringham
packing.
 
I imagine that cannot have been
easy.’

‘In the end, it wasn’t as difficult as I
expected,’ came the faintly guarded reply. ‘And I’m hoping that we have seen
the last of him.’

‘No question of that,’ remarked Nicholas, reaching
for another slice of cake. ‘There’s nothing left for him here other than
disgrace and possibly prison.
 
I sent a
note to Aristide, by the way.
 
I thought
he’d like to know that the club is no longer under threat and that you’re still
in one piece. Oh – I also passed on Rock’s suggestion that, if asked, he might
give the impression that your wedding took place here at the Priors.’