Dare to Risk it All (Daring Daughters Book 7) Page 16

  “Well, can you blame him, bearing in mind some of the stunts you pulled over the years? If I were him, I wouldn’t believe a word that came out of your mouth either,” Dare retorted as they walked towards their waiting horses.

  Bainbridge and Dare had elected to ride into Chesterfield as they intended to visit the railway works in which Bainbridge had taken a financial interest. The station was due to open the next year, and he was keen to show his friends the progress. Raphe had declined the visit apologetically, wanting to spend his time with Greer, but he had agreed to ride with them into town.

  The day was cold but bright and they rode ahead of the slower carriages, making their way into Chesterfield. Greer’s father and Raphe’s younger brother Oliver rode with the ladies. Raphe was touched by his young sibling’s delight in his engagement but had not yet told Sylvester. The poor fellow was suffering the torments of the damned after having overindulged last night and had elected to stay home and sleep it off.

  Chesterfield was a handsome, busy little town with a fine church made notable by its violently twisted spire.

  “Legend has it that the devil was having a comfortable nap up there when the scent of incense drifting up from the church made him sneeze with such force it twisted the spire,” Bainbridge said with amusement. “Nothing whatsoever to do with green timber and shoddy workmanship, mind,” he added with a wink.

  Raphe laughed and bid his friends goodbye as he followed the carriage to its destination. The coaching inn was a friendly, bustling place, and Raphe handed his horse over to a groom before hurrying to help Greer and her family from their carriages.

  They had a pleasant morning, exploring the town and the shops, and whilst Raphe wished he could lavish his beloved with an expensive gift, she did not appear the least bit interested in buying for herself. Instead, she finished the last of her Christmas shopping, buying a fine pair of leather gloves for Elspeth, an illustrated book of birds for Alana, and chocolates for her mother. Raphe fretted over his gifts, feeling he must buy his new family something but too aware of the limited coins upon his person. Greer had assured him they did not care how much money he spent and only wished for his company, which was reassuring… but only up to a point.

  “Raphe,” Jerry said quietly whilst Greer browsed a shop window, taking him aside. “This is for you.”

  Raphe looked down at the fat purse his soon to be father-in-law was holding out to him and flushed with mortification.

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “No, that is very kind, but I cannot.”

  “You can, you know. Consider it an advance on Greer’s dowry. No one else need know, and I’m sure you’ll be wanting to buy her a betrothal gift.”

  Raphe stared at the purse, tempted for a moment by the idea of buying something pretty for Greer, but he shook his head again. “No, sir. Thank you, truly. I appreciate the offer and your confidence in me, but I shall buy Greer’s gift myself. It might not be as extravagant as she deserves, but I will do the best I can.”

  To his relief, Jerry smiled at him, something that looked very much like approval in his eyes.

  “Good for you,” he said quietly, and walked away, leaving Raphe uncertain if that had been a test, and if he’d just passed it.

  They returned to the coaching inn late in the afternoon when hunger overrode even Alana’s enthusiasm for shopping, and enjoyed a fine meal of lamb stew, studded with pearl barley and carrots, and cloudlike suet dumplings.

  Raphe was escorting Greer out of the inn, content, and proud to have his lovely fiancée on his arm, when they passed two women chattering in the corridor. They were of the upper classes, lavishly dressed in the latest fashion. By the sound of things, they were thoroughly enjoying shredding someone’s reputation into tiny pieces with their cut glass accents. The conversation reached Raphe’s ears as they passed, as the women did not bother to lower their voices.

  “Well, and what can you expect from a wicked man like that, a notorious libertine? Goodness, some of the shocking stories that circle about him and his light skirts, one wonders at his stamina. Of course, he was likely hell-bent on trysting with the maid himself and that’s why he was so incensed at Lord Plumpton’s interference. The poor man was only acting as men will, and the girl ought to have known better than to be alone in such a place. I never have maids above stairs at such an event after ten o'clock. They’ll always cause trouble.”

  “They’ll cause trouble?” Raphe asked, unable to stop himself from interrupting.

  The women, who had been gossiping merrily, blithely unaware of all who were listening in, gasped. One of them clutched at the pearl necklace at her throat, swallowing convulsively.

  Though he was aware of Greer’s hand upon his arm, he could not stifle the surge of anger that rose in his chest. “You think it was the maid’s fault she was attacked when she was going about her business? You think a man has no self-control in such a situation, that we are all beasts who give into our baser natures at the least provocation?”

  “Well, you ought to know, my lord,” one woman retorted, eyeing him with amused contempt. She was perhaps in her forties, a comfortably padded woman with the first scattering of grey at her temples, and cold blue eyes.

  Raphe heard Greer’s furious intake of breath and covered her hand with his own, hoping she’d hold her tongue.

  “Indeed, I have given into my baser nature far too often, and I am aware the scandal sheets never fail to entertain those with a taste for salacious details. It appears you have closely followed my exploits, and yet, I’ve never needed to force my attentions on a woman. They’ve always been willing.”

  “Like this one, I suppose,” the woman retorted, giving Greer a look of sheer disgust.

  “Mind your tongue, harpy. That is Lord de Ligne’s fiancée and my daughter,” Mrs Cadogan said, looking as if she’d scratch the woman’s eyes out given the opportunity.

  “Bonnie,” Jerry said, aiming an expression of frank dislike at the harpy and taking his wife’s arm as if to hold her back. “We’re in a public place, ladies,” he warned them both.

  The two women glared at each other, the atmosphere prickling with tension.

  “Come away, Mrs Andover,” her companion said, tugging at her friend’s arm. “Lord de Ligne has no business speaking to you so rudely. He’s probably drunk.”

  “He ain’t drunk.”

  Raphe turned to see Bainbridge at his back, glowering at the women who blanched at the sight of the marquess.

  “Mrs Andover, and Mrs Fisher,” he said, pronouncing their names as if they tasted unpleasant. “Bosom beaus of Lord Plumpton’s Mama.”

  “Well, and what of it?” Mrs Fisher retorted.

  “What of it?” Bainbridge repeated, as if considering the question. “Let’s see. Lord Plumpton is a vile little sneak who likes to take advantage of those weaker than he is, whilst the baron here championed a woman in distress. So, let me make things plain for you. If I hear you defend Plumpton again—the disgusting prick—and put the blame at my friend’s feet, I might need to recall a certain incident at a dinner party last year and make it public.”

  Raphe was interested to see Mrs Fisher’s colour heighten. The woman’s lips pursed tight, as if drawn by a gathering string.

  “Jolly good,” Bainbridge said, as if that settled everything, which it must have done as the two awful women hurried away. “Come along, Raphe, I want to go home. Where’s my wife got to? Bella?”

  Everyone flinched as he bellowed his wife’s name about the inn.

  “Laurie, I’m right here,” Arabella said, exasperated, reaching up and tapping him on the shoulder as Bainbridge turned around and discovered her directly behind him.

  “Well, what are you hiding back there for? Come along,” he said, taking her arm and guiding her outside.

  Arabella rolled her eyes at Greer as she passed, but hurried along in his wake.

  Raphe hesitated as everyone filed out, glancing down at Greer.

  “I’m sor
ry,” he said awkwardly. “I ought not have made a scene.”

  Greer shook her head, her eyes grave as she looked up at him. “I am very glad you did. I’m proud of you.”

  Frowning, Raphe tried to quell an uncertain, uneasy sensation in his guts.

  “What?” she asked.

  “They were right. About me, I mean. There are some shocking stories.”

  Greer smiled, her eyes twinkling. “I know the stories. I’ve read most of them.”

  He let out a huff of laughter that was not the least bit amused. The idea of her having read about his past, in all its lurid detail, nauseated him. “They’re likely true.”

  She nodded, watching him. “I know.”

  “Doesn’t that—” Raphe hesitated, wondering if he really wanted to ask, for the answer might be too hard to endure. “Doesn’t that disgust you?”

  He waited, his heart pounding sickly as her green gaze held his, seeing him as no one had ever seen him before.

  “Nothing about you disgusts me. If you found solace with those women, then I am glad of it. I think you have been too alone for too long, but you need not be alone anymore, Raphe. You have me now, and a family that wants to love you as their own. Your brothers have become fine men, and you’ve been as much a father as a brother to them. You did that. I’m proud of you. I will be proud to call you my husband, and the Mrs Fishers of the world had better mind their tongues. Mama wanted to do battle on your behalf, did you see?”

  Raphe tried to answer, but his throat was inexplicably tight, so he nodded instead.

  Greer looked around them and, on discovering they were alone, tugged at his lapels until he lowered his head. She pressed a swift, soft kiss to his mouth and his heart soared.

  “I can’t do anything about those old stories. People will talk and the talk will embarrass you,” he said, beset by too many conflicting emotions.

  “No, it won’t,” Greer said, laughing. “Truly, Raphe, I really don’t think you understand what manner of family you’ve married into. I keep telling you, but you don’t seem to listen. We’re not good ton. We’re as likely to embarrass you, I swear. Goodness, Mama is bound to,” she added with disarming frankness.

  “Never,” he said, wanting to haul her into his arms and kiss her senseless, right there in a public place, but he’d treat her like a lady, like she deserved to be treated. “And I’ll never shame you again. I’ll behave, Greer, I promise.”

  Greer gave him an odd, disgruntled look. “Not too much, I hope,” she retorted, and tugged him outside.

  They found everyone waiting for them and Arabella questioning an increasingly uncomfortable Bainbridge who was shifting from foot to foot, eyeing his wife warily.

  “Tell me,” Arabella insisted, folding her arms. “What was it Mrs Fisher did at that dinner party last year?”

  “Bella,” Bainbridge protested weakly.

  “Don’t Bella me, I want to know. It was with you, wasn’t it?” Arabella’s intent gaze skewered Bainbridge and, to Raphe’s astonishment, twin flags of colour crested his cheeks.

  “I knew it!” Arabella said triumphantly. “Oh, Laurie, don’t be coy. It was before we married, so I won’t scold you.”

  Bainbridge snorted with indignation and shook his head. “Do I look that stupid?” he demanded, before adding hastily, “Don’t answer that.”

  “She tried to seduce him, and she wasn’t subtle about it. Hands all over him, grabbing him under the table,” Dare said, shrugging as Bainbridge sent him a glare of pure outrage. “What? I never said she succeeded.”

  Arabella watched her husband with curiosity. “You didn’t! Not with that awful woman?”

  “No!” Bainbridge retorted, looking revolted by the idea. “What do you take me for?”

  Arabella let out a sigh and took his hand. “No, of course not. How dreadful of me to think so. I apologise, darling.” She watched him a moment longer. “Was she very persistent?”

  “Yes,” Bainbridge said darkly.

  “Horrid creature,” Arabella said with a shudder, lifting her husband’s hand to her lips. “Poor lamb. I never thought of it before, but it must be difficult for men to deal with such unwanted advances too.”

  Bainbridge eyed her suspiciously for a moment, as if it were a trap. Satisfied she was sincere, he nodded. “I hurt her pride. She turned on me like a scalded cat.”

  “Oh, darling,” Arabella said, so much feeling behind the word that Bainbridge leaned into her, dropping his head. Arabella reached up and petted him as if he were a great friendly lion and Raphe smiled, amused by how docile his rambunctious friend had become.

  The carriages arrived and Raphe helped Greer inside, regretting his earlier decision to ride and wishing he could sit beside her for the return journey. Going by the lingering look Bainbridge sent his wife before he closed their carriage door, he felt the same.

  The two men exchanged a rueful smile and went off to collect their horses.

  Chapter 14

  Monsieur Le Comte,

  Heavens. A secret rendezvous with the handsomest man in Europe. I may swoon. A good thing for you, I have no romantic sensibilities.

  I will indeed be at Beverwyck. My parents and Felix and Emmeline will stay for a week before heading down to Holbrook. They will spend Christmas with Florence and Sterling and the new baby. I must admit I was torn whether to go too, but Beverwyck will be so merry, and I will visit in the new year and have little Betty all to myself.

  Truly, though, I am touched by your anger on my behalf, but we must be sensible. I am not a great beauty. I admit I am vain enough to be relieved I am not so plain as I once was, but that is as far it goes. Perhaps “passably pretty” would not be an outrageous compliment, but I am too short and too round to be considered anything more. Pray, do not flatter me. Spanish coin from you of all men is too dreadful to contemplate. I trust you and do not wish to hear things I know to be untrue. I should feel foolish indeed to receive such comments.

  I really cannot conceive how you think you can improve the dratted gown. Do you have hidden talents as a seamstress? I am beset with curiosity. Or are you simply planning to set light to it? I won’t object.

  I am on pins to discover what you have in mind.

  ―Excerpt of a letter from Miss Evie Knight (daughter of Lady Helena and Mr Gabriel Knight) to Louis César de Montluc, Comte de Villen.

  15th December 1840, on the road to Rowsley Hall, Derbyshire.

  On the ride back to the Hall the following day, Greer and Raphe shared a carriage with her parents, and the discussion turned to their engagement and the coming nuptials.

  “We could get a special licence, couldn’t we?” Greer asked, for she wanted to marry him at once. The sooner the better.

  Raphe looked uncertain, but before he could answer, her mother spoke up.

  “There’s no rush, child,” she said, shaking her head. “I know you want to be together, but I think there is no harm in waiting a while and getting to know each other better. Besides, we must have a grand wedding.”

  “Mama!” Greer exclaimed with indignation. “You’re supposed to be the impulsive one.”

  Her mother laughed, unrepentant. “Guilty as charged, but you are my daughter and sometimes I must at least pretend to be a sensible parent. Oh, don’t look so aggrieved, I’m only talking about a few months.”

  “A few months!” Greer stared at her in horror, and then at her father, who shrugged.

  “I don’t think it would be a terrible idea, love. We both like Raphe very much and we want you to be happy together, but, even by your mother’s standards, this has been something of a whirlwind.”

  Greer’s heart pounded. How could her usually outrageous parents have chosen this of all moments to be sensible? “But Elspeth married Dare quickly.”

  “Elspeth had no choice. She was ruined,” Mama said dryly.

  Greer turned a mutinous expression on Raphe, who paled.

  “No!” he said hastily. “Don’t even think it.”
<
br />   “Too late,” Greer muttered. She folded her arms and glared out of the window. “It’s not fair,” she said, aware she sounded like a spoiled child and too disappointed to care.

  “Love,” Raphe said gently. “I don’t want to wait either, but… I think your parents are right.”

  She turned to stare at him in astonishment. The turncoat!

  “Hear me out,” he said in a rush. “Where will we live? I haven’t been to my home since I was a boy. It’s been utterly abandoned. It could take months, years even to get it into a state where we can live in it.”

  “You’re surely not proposing we wait until then?” Greer asked in alarm.

  He smiled and shook his head. “I couldn’t,” he admitted. “I’d rather die, but I need a bit of time to see what’s what. That’s all. If it’s too far gone, we’ll make other arrangements while the work is done. I promise.”

  Greer frowned and looked between him and her parents. “How long?”

  “An April wedding would be nice,” her mother offered.

  Greer shook her head, appalled.

  “The end of January,” she countered.

  “May?” Mama suggested.

  “That’s even longer!” Greer said, scowling as her mother chuckled.

  “The first of March,” Raphe said, taking Greer’s hand.

  “March?” she stared at him, deeply disappointed at the thought of waiting so long. Did he not want to be with her as much as she wanted to be with him? She looked away from him so he could not see the hurt in her eyes.

  “Greer,” he said softly, but she didn’t turn, and the atmosphere in the carriage grew tense.

  Thankfully, they arrived at the hall moments later and her parents hurried off to give them the privacy to talk it out. Greer released Raphe’s hand as he helped her down, not looking at him.

  “Greer,” he said, his voice firm. “Walk with me.”

  She shook her head, too upset to be reasonable. “It’s cold, I want to go inside.”