Proper Scoundrel (6 page)

Marcus’s motley troupe passed a holly maze, which Tweenie must stop and sniff and mark at regular intervals, and which Marcus thought would be a splendid place to walk with Jade and perhaps go missing for a while.

“Emily,” Marcus said after several unexpected turns. “If this is the way you and Lacey just came, you have quite the sense of direction. Are you sure this is right?”

Emily nodded. “Swans.”

Ah, a route she took to see the swans. That made sense.

Before too much longer, they arrived at a delightful ornamental lake complete with graceful waterfowl. Emily wanted back in his arms then, and he was pleased to oblige. “Was Jade here earlier?” he asked. “Lord, I’m sorry I missed her.”

“Jade.” Em pointed again, and Marcus looked in that direction. In the vale, beyond a small copse, lay a fallow field, its spring-carpet of violets giving it a lavender hue. A woman astride a fine chestnut hack crossed the field at a good pace, her yellow gown flowing behind her. “Are you sure that’s Jade?”

“Jade,” Emily said with a nod, certain she was right.

Marcus believed the track for the railroad spur would cut diagonally across the northern quarter of the land on the opposite side of the beech wood edging that field. He wanted to follow and identify the rider, but dusk already bruised the horizon and it would be full dark before they crossed the field. “We can’t catch up with her now, I’m sorry to say.” He kissed Emmy’s nose. “Let’s go home before Tweenie actually catches one of those birds.”

About four hours later, around midnight, Marcus retraced their walk and beyond, as he made his way to the railroad’s current construction site. But all seemed quiet. Nothing in disorder. The sheds filled with tools were locked. Drays and railroad cars of supplies waited to be unloaded. A flatbed car, soon to be reclaimed by the train, stood empty at the termination of the track. The only item that seemed to be missing was the train itself, but perhaps it was due to arrive at first light.

As Marcus returned, both happy and frustrated to have seen nothing or no one remarkable, he caught sight of a retainer entering the house by the servants entrance, and he wondered what an old man would be doing out at this hour.

In the stable, Marcus lit a lantern and found a chestnut hack with no sign of recent exertion.

He checked his pocket-watch. Nearly one in the morning.

If the rider had come right back, the horse should have had time to cool down. Then again, surely there must be more than one chestnut hack in the Newhaven stables.

Around one the next day, annoyed that Jade hadn’t yet made an appearance in the study, and no closer to unravelling her finances, Marcus walked into the dining room to hear talk of a railroad accident. His ears perked up and he schooled his features as he dug into a plate of gammon, cheddar and rye, but he learned nothing more beyond the fact that the accident happened the night before.

He wished Emily hadn’t been so certain the rider was Jade. While he might have predicted that Jade rode astride, he certainly would have expected her to wear trousers to do so. Lord, he wished he knew for sure.

As expected, Marcus received a message later that afternoon detailing the accident. First and foremost, no one had been hurt. The main construction line had derailed two villages away when they braked for a body on the tracks, which turned out to be a dress stuffed to look like a body. The engineer thought he saw a stocky man scrambling into the woods just before he spotted the body, but other than that, he saw nothing.

While the “prank” had been somewhat innocuous, and undertaken when few workers rode the rail, it would take days to repair the damage and get construction back on track—weeks, if parts had to be rebuilt or repaired.

Double bloody hell. If they didn’t begin laying track across Jade’s property soon, they were going to miss the deadline for laying it in Tidemills, and lose the charter for good. Parliament had already confirmed that they would not renew the charter again. If the South Downs Railroad failed, the hundred or so residents of Tidemills would lose their jobs when their struggling mills failed for lack of an efficient shipping method. The Attleboro Estate, itself, stood to lose as well, if the railroad failed, which would wreak havoc on a more personal level.

Marcus cursed again and told the messenger to wait while he composed a return message.

Dear Garrett, get your bags packed and come for a visit. I need a rooster to infiltrate the hen house. Dig out those rusty scoundrel skills of yours and polish them up; this is an assignment from heaven. I plan to introduce you as my brother, Garrett Fitzalan, nothing more. I’ll send Ivy to get you. Yours, M.

p.s. Have Brinkley make a copy of the Smithfield land option deal and bring it with you, but wait until we’re alone to give it to me.

Jade had succeeded in avoiding him all day, Marcus mused after completing his day’s work, and he had no intention of letting her get away with it.

The female members of the household were in final fittings, a maid said. Third floor, west wing. No men allowed.

By God, if seeing Jade meant invading an all-female sanctum, then invade he would.

Halfway up the stairs, Marcus heard the soft tread of little feet behind him and recognized the sound of his shadow.

To make Emily giggle, he turned and scooped her into his arms, but she screamed in fright.

He sat on a stair and held the trembling little form close. “Oh, Emmy-bug, Sweetheart. I didn’t mean to frighten you. Are you all right?”

“Mucks scare Emmy,” she said with a scold.

“Mucks loves Emmy,” he answered. “Will you forgive me?”

“Treacle toffee?”

“You need to be bribed with sweetmeats, do you?” Gazing at him from beneath her long lashes, finger in her mouth, Emily nodded.

Marcus chuckled, kissing her nose, and stood to carry her back down. “Let’s go see what kind of treats you can charm out of Winkin, and then we’ll go find Lacey, shall we?”

A half hour later, Marcus boldly stepped into a world of silk and lace, curvaceous forms on pedestals and dangerous women with straight pins between their lips.

When he greeted them, they scattered those pins in shrieked surprise, flying out the door he’d entered. And there he stood in an empty room. “Well, damn.”

“Sofia,” came a wonderfully familiar voice. “I’m ready.”

Marcus grinned. Ready like him these days, but he suspected that Jade had no idea what sexual readiness entailed. She’d been too amazed by her own reaction to his touch yesterday.

When he saw her, he stopped outside the door to give his heart and his breathing a minute to calm, for she stood in her underpinnings, on a dais before a row of mirrors, so industriously plucking wayward threads from a piece of fabric that she didn’t notice him.

An assortment of scant frippery caressed Jade’s form, moulding it to divine perfection, making his mouth dry and his palms sweat.

A corset trimmed in pink ribbons pushed up the succulent breasts she’d offered and he’d declined—more fool him. Beneath the corset she wore nothing but a short lace chemise, its tiny pink bow tucked between her breasts. Marcus swallowed. Barely-there drawers ended high on her thighs in bands of lace. Heeled slippers made her long legs, encased in opaque white stockings, appear longer still—legs he wanted wrapped around him.

Seeing her like this, he wanted, needed, even more fiercely, to lay her down and ravish her ... and then he needed to do it again. And he would ... when she “needed” him as ardently.

“You’re perfect,” he said stepping into the room. “Exquisite.”

Like a night animal caught in lantern light, she stilled when she saw him in the mirror behind her, aborting her instinct to cover herself almost as fast as it occurred. She raised her chin instead.

Still behind her, Marcus stroked her form with his heated gaze, from slippered feet to cascading tresses, making his admiration clear.

Despite that, or because of it, she straightened her spine and stood taller, and, by damn, she stood prouder as well.

She had circumnavigated him the day he arrived; now he took his turn to appreciate her from every angle. As much to tease as to savour, he took two slow, silent, sizzling turns about the dais on which she stood so splendidly displayed.

When he stopped before her, she arched an annoyed brow, making him smile inside. “They told me men weren’t allowed,” he said, “but I knew that you, of all people, would understand my need to break the rules.”

She cocked that brow higher. “Need?”

“More needs than you can imagine where you’re concerned,” he said, his voice rougher than he expected, peaking her interest, judging by the warmth in her gaze. A lifetime of needs, he very much feared.

That he might have found his missing half brought sorrow. His responsibilities made a future for them impossible, yet, as fast as it came, he thrust away his pall of disappointment, determined to accept the gift of the moment. He could do worse, during his time with Jade, than to teach her that a man could be gentle.

Besides, destiny had a way of taking a stand. He had to hope that it would continue to work in his favour.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said.

Jade made to speak and stopped, her silent stance reminding him that as her employer, she owed him no explanation.

“I’m glad you eluded me, else I’d never have come,” he admitted. “I vow I’ll carry a picture of you like this in my mind until my dying day.” With a slow, scalding perusal, he caressed her once again, from top to toe, the way he’d like to caress her in truth.

His purpose backfired and rushed his near-arousal to blatant life. Placing his foot on the dais, he rested his arm against his raised knee to disguise the evidence.

“Did you want something special?” she asked, the gleam in her eye confirming he’d failed, that she perceived his distress and turned the tables.

“You know I do.” He reached for a rosebud-topped garter, hesitated, and reached higher to stroke the lace band on her drawers.

She shivered and shifted a hairsbreadth away.

Glad he remained in the concealing position, Marcus mentally applauded her move and her instinct for self-preservation. “I heard you were going to the assembly this evening.”

She nodded, a good deal less certain of herself than a moment before.

“Good. I expect to be there myself, in the card room for the most part. But I’d like the honour of partnering you for the supper set.” He yearned for her company and needed to hold her in his arms, by God, for longer than a minute.

He needed to ask her if she’d stuffed a dress and left it on the railroad tracks.

Disgusted with himself, Marcus tossed a ruined neck-cloth and picked up another, annoyed at being caught up with a woman in a way he swore he never would. Staying at Peacehaven this evening would be the wise decision. Heading for home now, if he had to walk all the way to Seaford, would be wiser. Running would be wisest.

He sighed. Nobody had ever accused him of being wise.

Look at him, primping like a randy stripling. If his London cronies saw him, they’d run to the betting books. He only wished the odds against him weren’t so high.

Of course, if his cronies had seen Jade this afternoon, they’d line up beside him. Line up? They’d trounce him, and each other, to get to her.

Ivy stepped into his room and looked him up and down. “You’re dressed more appropriately for a London ballroom than an assembly card room.”

Marcus threw down a second ruined neck-cloth and ignored his friend’s sarcasm, however astute. “I asked Garrett to come and stay for a while—as my brother who needs my care, though I didn’t mention the care part. Will you go and fetch him?”

“I’ll go tonight, if you tell me you’re done with blaming yourself.”

“I’m trying to be done with it, but sometimes I can’t help thinking, ‘What if I hadn’t challenged him?’”

“You’ve been racing each other since you were old enough to sit on a horse. Brothers often do.”

Marcus sighed. “In the logical part of my mind, I know that, but—”

“That’ll do for now. I’ll bring him in the morning.”