Proper Scoundrel (28 page)

They reached heaven as one.

Then she allowed him to love her his way, every time he woke her, all night long.

Near dawn, they slept in each other’s arms, sated and exhausted.

The next morning, Jade watched as Marcus roused to a tongue in his ear and called his seducer, “Darling,” then he raised his heavy lids and stared into the big brown eyes of a little red dog.

Jade laughed with her whole heart for the first time in years.

Still smiling about it a day later, Jade knew she’d remember the astonished look on Marcus’s face long after he’d left her. Which he would do, once she destroyed his brother’s railroad.

Since Garrett demanded to walk, unaided, down the aisle of St. Wilfred’s Parish Church in Newhaven proper, the scheduled wedding of Abigail Pargeter and Garrett Alasdair Fitzalan, Earl of Attleboro, would take place on June 5, three weeks after she accepted his proposal, and three weeks before the South Downs Railroad must reach Tidemills or fail. This gave Jade time to prepare a proper wedding while she devised a plan to destroy the bridegroom’s livelihood.

In the days that followed, turmoil became her alarming companion.

That the railroad was not likely to be Garrett’s only means of income consoled her little. A man who had not walked in more than a year deserved no such abuse. Questioning too deeply the sources of his income would be tantamount to admitting she had not given up her fight. Yet having no notion of the ways the act she must commit could affect Garrett tested Jade sorely.

Destroying him, if losing his railroad could do so, would also destroy Abigail. While Jade’s focus had always been the continuance of her downtrodden society and the care of the women who depended upon it, Jade realized that now the tables had turned. One of her very own had a stake in the opposing outcome.

Still, she supposed she must look to the well-being of the majority, but, oh, how painful her goal had become.

While Jade ruminated on the distressing situation at all hours, preparations for Garrett’s wedding to Abigail took form and shape by day. By night, Jade barred Marcus from her bed, a decision he did not appreciate or understand, though he tried. He truly did. For Emily’s sake.

Jade did not further explain that every time they made love, she became less and less certain of her purpose. That if she welcomed him into her bed, her body, one more time, she would falter in her determination ... which she could never do.

For fourteen long, frustrating nights, she denied her body, and his, sustenance. For eight room-pacing hours during each of those nights, she kept herself from going to him and begging him to make her forget the pain of her own treachery.

Thankfully, during each day, Garrett’s progress, Emily’s kisses, Mac’s warm little body, and Abby’s bright future, managed to distract her.

Working on Abby’s wedding finery, Jade’s women seemed less downtrodden, as if they believed in happily-ever-afters and gentle men once more.

Nothing less than a miracle could have accomplished that.

The upheaval and activity offered Jade a respite from torment. Yet at times anguish dogged her and everything good seemed to vanish.

“What? What did you say, Lester?” Only a portion of her retainer’s comment had penetrated Jade’s fog of anxiety.

“A man in Lewes, I said, asked after the Lady of Peacehaven Manor.”

Lester had just returned from an expedition to fetch the last of their yard goods order, the fabric for Abigail’s gown. “One of them Frenchie dressmakers,” Lester said. “The Mam’selle Liette said she heard a man asking for you at the apothecary. Liette’s sister, Paulette, said as he was a coarse little man with beady eyes and ‘thee snout of thee peeg.’”

Jade’s girls laughed at Lester’s imitation of the dressmaker’s French accent, but Jade felt unaccountably disturbed. “That’s odd,” she said, tearing brown paper off a bolt of white Pekin silk. “Why would someone in Lewes ask about Peacehaven? Do the Misses Paulette and Liette know the man? Have they ever seen him before?”

“No, Ma’am, but the stranger’s saying as he knows something about your grandfather you might want to hear before certain others do.”

Jade’s head came up with a snap, and the bolt of white silk hit the floor and rolled across the room on its ball-tipped wooden spool, causing no end of anguish to the women in the room.

When Jade recovered it, along with her equilibrium, she offered Abby her abject apologies, but Abby was not near as upset as Jade and the rest of the girls.

With trembling hands, Jade returned to opening packages of French lace trim, Spitalfields silk roses, and white sarcenet for quilling. Just a short while before, the prospect of Abby’s gown had seemed exciting, but Jade’s joy in the task dimmed for wondering who the stranger might be, what threat he posed, and how she would answer it.

As near to reaching her goal as to Abigail’s fairytale wedding, ’twas not the time for any of grandfather’s despicable deeds to come calling. No, nor for grandmother’s devastating secret to rear its ugly head, either.

In the study, Marcus went over the accounts he’d copied and brought from Jade’s banker detailing her cousin, Mr. Giles Dudley’s theft, when Marcus received a message about Dudley, himself, from the Bow Street Runner he’d hired. It seemed Cousin Dudley had been sighted in nearby Lewes, a village away, while former man-of-affairs Neil Kirby appeared to have disappeared from the face of the earth.

The Runner invited Marcus to the Dragon and Claw, in Lewes, for a bit of ale and perhaps a confrontation with Jade’s cousin that very evening.

Marcus went to find his brother and announce his intention of going.

Garrett swore. “I wish to bloody hell I could go with you. Suppose the man’s worse than a thief; you could get yourself hurt.”

“I’d love to have you along, though you’d have to ride, which you haven’t done in ages.”

Garrett cursed. “As I’ve set my mind on your attending me at my wedding next week as groomsman, I think it wise someone cover your back. Fact is, I’ve been doing a lot of things I haven’t done in ages.” Garrett grinned.

Marcus chuckled, elated at the prospect of his brother’s company as well as his rekindled interest in all aspects of life. “Come with me, then.”

“I’m not certain I’ve regained enough strength in my thighs to keep my seat,” Garrett admitted with disgust, until the devil entered his eyes. “Though I suppose it couldn’t be much different from—”

Marcus coughed and got behind the wheelchair. “On that interesting note, let me take you to the stable to show you what I had made up for you in London. When I returned, you were so blue-devilled, I hadn’t the heart to show you, or get your hopes up. But by damn, I think you’re ready now.”

Once Garrett agreed to use the strap-device to keep him in his saddle, Marcus brought him back to his room to change into riding clothes, and went in search of Jade. He’d just tell her he needed to go to Lewes on business with Garrett.

Because he had not wanted to get her hopes up about destroying Dudley’s chance of changing her grandmother’s will, he hadn’t told her Dudley was stealing from her. He’d let her assume tonight’s meeting had to do with the railroad.

He stopped in the middle of the stairs. She’d probably get it into her stubborn head to follow them. Better to leave without talking to her. Shaking his head, Marcus turned around and started back down.

Beecher chuckled behind him.

“Saw that did you?” Marcus said, chagrined to have been caught.

Beecher smiled good-naturedly as they went down the next flight side by side. “The lass’s got you coming and going she has, but mark my words, Marcus, my boy, there’s none more worth going muzzy over than our Jade.”

“I know.” Marcus grinned. He’d begun to think there was hope for them, real hope, now that Garrett was regaining his legs. If only he could keep the railroad on its tracks, and keep himself grounded, as well. He shook his head again. “How am I ever going to catch her if she’s got me chasing my own tail, I’d like to know.”

Beecher slapped him on the back. “If you stop and wait long enough, she’ll catch you.”

Marcus regarded the medical man quizzically. “Perhaps someday I’ll figure that out. Meanwhile, if she or Abigail comes looking, tell them Garr and I took a ride over to Tidemills, and we won’t be back until late. Tell Jade I’ll see her in the morning.”

Now it was Beecher’s turn to shake his head, though his eyes appeared actually to twinkle.

Marcus should have known that he and Jade hadn’t fooled the old codger. He was as close to a grandfather as Jade had. ’Twas a wonder the medical man hadn’t aimed a pistol at him weeks ago, considering his previous sleeping arrangements.

Lord, he missed having Jade beside him at night.

Marcus shook off his melancholy and clapped the observant Beecher on the back. “Just tell her. And, thanks, old man.”

As Jade slipped her arms into Marcus’s bottle green frockcoat to wear with her trousers for her trip to Lewes, she was as worried about Emily as she was glad that Marcus had left for the evening. Em had been sleeping through the night lately, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t wake up crying tonight. It would break her heart if Em came looking for comfort and none was to be found.

Though Jade intended to be back early, she decided to ask Lacey if she wouldn’t mind sleeping in her bed until she returned, in case Emily woke.

When Lacey agreed, Jade felt better and was able to mount her Chestnut and set off toward Lewes with one less worry on her mind, which allowed her to concentrate on her current problem. What did this stranger know about her grandfather? All the way to Lewes, she pondered the worst possible scenario—that the stranger meant to blackmail her.

Jade entered Lewes proper as lavender streaked the horizon and she went directly to question the source of Lester’s information.

Desmoiselles Paulette and Liette Lague, modistes extraordinaire, welcomed her with enthusiasm, expressing an immediate and useless desire to reproduce her ensemble pantalons, her trouser-costume, for their customers.

Besides being forward-thinking, they were supremely talented, honestly of French heritage, carried the choicest yard goods, and designed the best fashions this side of London and Paris. Other than their penchant for bickering over which of them was the favourite of their Chere Maman, La Belle Jeannette, the famous opera singer, they were beautiful and sweet, rare jewels among French modistes.

Though the dears were as welcoming as Jade expected, there was little more they could tell her, except that the apothecary had later said the stranger was staying at the Dragon and Claw.

Before Jade left, Mademoiselle Paulette told her that the once respectable hostelry had degenerated to more of an ale house than an inn and catered now to a very low-class clientele. Wringing her hands, Paulette begged Jade not to go there.

Liette begged her to take their stooped and aging butler for protection, else forget, “le filthy peeg.”

Determined to find the stranger whose very purpose spoke of threat, Jade kissed their rouge-pot cheeks and tactfully declined any and all suggestions.

If finding her quarry meant stepping into the teeth of perdition, ragtag patrons and all, then step into hell she would.

The seventeenth-century beam and plaster building sat sandwiched between the office of a high-brow barrister and Lady Teal’s Rooming House, an infamous den of wickedness hiding behind an innocuous facade.

As Jade approached the Dragon and Claw, half its departing patrons were en route to Lady Teal’s, and the other half reeked and staggered, retched and belched, nearly enough to change her mind and turn her homeward.

Nearly, but not quite.

Glad she’d purloined a caped coat with matching tweed cap from Marcus’s room at the last minute, Jade pulled the cap low over her forehead and stood the coat’s collar up to hide as much of her face as possible before she entered.

The interior of the inn, lit solely by a pair of tallow candles in greasy wall sconces, stank of stale ale, whisky, yesterday’s mutton, and the great unwashed.

This clientele meant business, most having a row of empty tankards at hand.