Rescuing Rosalind (Three Original Ladies and Their Gentlemen) (15 page)

He was beginning to be accustomed to the comforting smell of cigars and coffee that greeted him upon entering the gentleman’s club. Reflecting that his life was changing apace, he saw that Westringham was hailing him from across the elegantly appointed subscription room. The look on his face was one that his captain had only seen during the confusion of battle.

“I say, Captain. I’ve heard the rumor. Can I credit it?”

“Yes. I am really to be married to my Rosalind.”

All the color drained from Westringham’s face.

“Sorry, old man,” Buck said. “I know you fancied her, but we’ve known each other a long time. I think it was inevitable, to tell you the truth.”

“But don’t you know?”

Dread seized Buck. What was this? He cocked his head to one side.

“She’s no better than she should be after all! She’s diddled you.”

“What are you talking of, Clark?”

“She
is
an actress!”

“Not a professional,” he said.

“But she auditioned for
As You Like It
, just as she told me she would when she deceived me with that ghastly veil.”

“She didn’t,” he said firmly. Alarm coursed through him. Had Warmsby double crossed him? “Where did you hear this unconscionable tale?”

“Alverstoke. His mistress plays at the Covent Garden Theater. She heard it from the actress who won the part of Rosalind.”

Stunned, Buck could only stare at his friend. Finally, he said, “There was never an audition. That woman has put it about to increase her own consequence.”

“You’re going to have a hard time scotching this rumor. Miss Edwards has too many disappointed suitors who are eager to find out she has feet of clay. She is the talk of White’s.”

Buck turned around and exited the club. While the scandal did not change his intentions, he had a sinking feeling that it would change Rosalind’s.

When Buck arrived at Shearings, it was to see the crested carriage of the Duke of Ruisdell proceeding away from the house. Dread seized him.
Rosalind is in that coach. They are taking her away!

The butler, Stevens, told him in formal accents that the duke and duchess had gone into the country with Miss Edwards. No, he did not know when they were planning to return.

Buck stood looking at the closed door, minus its knocker. The sun seemed to darken, and rage overtook him. How could Rosalind leave him over something she knew would not bother him a whit? Or was this Ruisdell’s doing?

As he turned his footsteps toward his rooms, the familiar sounds of hoofbeats and harnesses, drays and hawkers faded into some other dimension. His anger only grew. Blast Ruisdell to the devil! Why had he been so high-handed? Buck had had every intention of standing by his Rosalind!

His mind moved back to recall their promises and their embraces. Rosalind was not some youngster to be punished. She was a grown woman, somewhat high-spirited, it was true, but Ruisdell would not even treat a horse this way!

The proud, independent girl he had come to know had melted willingly in his arms. His natural desire to protect had increased one hundredfold. And she had accepted his protection gratefully, all her little bristles laid flat. It occurred to him that she had probably never had her own champion. Instead she had been raised by a parent who had attacked her. It had made her strong and a bit belligerent. But that did not mean that she wouldn’t welcome someone who would have her best interests at heart. She
had
welcomed him. And now they were parted. She would bear this disgrace without him. Her sister probably thought she was doing the best thing for Rosalind. Neither Elise nor the duke understood the depth of his feelings. But Rosalind knew. He thanked God for that. She may have been helpless to stop their flight, but they did not have the power to make her forget him.

As soon as he dealt with Warmsby, who must be held accountable for Rosalind’s devilment, he would go to Ruisdell Palace. Undoubtedly, that is where they had gone. He would make the blasted duke release his sister-in-law into his care and keeping.
A special license.
Yes, I must procure a special license so we can be married immediately. We will go to the Continent for our honeymoon, and all of this scandal will blow over.

He knew he could find Warmsby at Boodle’s and changed his direction. Wrath at the man’s incompetence and the harm it had done surged inside him. He would make the beggar pay! Devil take it, he was going to challenge the man to a duel after all.

Buck found his quarry sitting in the window enclosure playing cards. Warmsby scowled up at Deal as he entered. Buck strolled over to him, inserted a hand under the man’s cravat and hauled him to his feet. The earl’s face was choleric.

“Curse you! Put me down! I am winning.”

“Your winning days are over. And your losing days, perhaps. You failed to keep your lightskirt’s mouth shut. I paid what you asked, and you were honor bound. On behalf of my fiancée, I demand satisfaction.”

Warmsby’s eyes bulged. “It wasn’t my fault!”

“We had an agreement. You may very well lose your life over it!” Letting the man back down, he said, “Have your seconds call on Westringham. He will act for me.”

He walked out of the club. That little errand discharged, he returned to White’s, where he requested Westringham’s assistance, left him gaping, and disappeared into the writing room.

Sitting at a large leather-inlaid desk, Buck availed himself of a quill and tried to calm his mind. He thought of Rosalind: her head clasped against his chest, his own head clasped in her hands, waltzing with her last evening, and the way she had appeared the first time he had seen her in the Ruisdell Palace Gardens.

The exercise did not have the effect he sought. Instead, he became even more agitated over the fact that she was gone from London, and he knew not for how long. Life was only bearable in the City as long as she graced it. Throwing himself out of the chair, he walked to the windows and glared down at St. James’s Street.

At sea, when things weighed on him, there was always some distraction, some matter that needed his attention—a fight that needed arbitrating, a strategy to be planned, his log to update, or a battle to be fought. Now there was nothing. Only this Warmsby to be settled. He would have to exercise caution so as only to wound him. He certainly did not want to be forced to disappear at the present time.

He must get Rosalind back. If she could not bring herself to come to London, or if the duke forbade her to, then he would gladly go to her. Life was insupportable otherwise.

Sitting once more at the desk, he managed to begin his letter. Once started, he found that the writing of it eased his agitation. It was well that he could at least do this.

My very dearest Rosalind,

How disappointed I was to see the Ruisdell carriage disappear down the street today. Did you not know that I am no hothouse flower? That I would stand by you in this unfortunate matter?

I will come to you at Ruisdell Palace as soon as I have settled the matter of the egregious Warmsby. One thing I cannot understand is how you could ever have entertained the attentions of such a very unappetizing rogue for an instant. That said, let me assure you that I will arrive with a special license and will be prepared to take you with me to the Continent for several months on a honeymoon.

We will not return until summer, when the Season shall be over. By the time it resumes next March, all gossip shall be safely dropped, do you not think so? Even if it is not entirely forgotten, you will be my wife, and I will stand by you.

This place is a desert without you to pull caps with. You are first in my heart, and believe me, you will dwell there always. You must know that you cannot so easily be rid of me, my dear.

With my love,

Buck

* * *

Westringham came to him that night in his rooms.

“You left so quickly this afternoon, you gave me no time to protest your actions. As your second and as your friend, I must beg you to reconsider this. Do you not realize that by dueling with Warmsby, you will only make the scandal worse?”

“I’ve never liked the cut of his jib, Clark. The longer he is around, the more chance he will have to make trouble.”

“But this is London Society, Captain. Not the deck of a ship. We are not in the midst of battle. You cannot kill a man with impunity as though he were an enemy sailor! Duelling is against the law. You could be hanged! Think! How would that help Miss Edwards’ situation?”

Buck stood and paced the sitting room, wishing he
were
on the deck of his ship. His lieutenant was right. The devil take Warmsby! The devil take the
ton.

“I shall delope,” he said.

“Much better let me call the whole thing off,” Westringham said.

“Warmsby needs a scare. I mean to see him out of the country.”

“How do you know he won’t kill you?”

“I’m deuced hard to kill.”

“And that hard-headed!”

“Warmsby sent around the name of his second.” Buck tossed a card to his lieutenant. “It’s written on the back of his card. Meet with him and let me know what details you work out.”

{ 22 }

T
HE DRIVE TO CORNWALL WAS A LONG ONE,
necessitating several stops for the night. Fanny conversed little. Her anger had faded only slightly. She spent her thoughts on images of Buck, imagining, with little trouble, sailing away with him from this wretched island.

Her sister offered her a book, Miss Austen’s
Sense and Sensibility
. Fanny had enjoyed
Pride and Prejudice
and thought that perhaps this book would offer her some escape from her anger and the closed carriage. However, once she started reading it, her fury resurfaced.

“Have you read this?” she asked Elise.

“Some of it.”

“And you thought it would be instructional for me, no doubt.”

“What do you mean?”

“Two sisters. One wise and one foolish?”

“I . . . uh . . . that is, I did not think . . .”

“No. You did not think.” She handed the book over. “You may have it back.”

“Fanny . . .”

“Just take it, please. We do not need to discuss it.”

“What is this?” asked Ruisdell.

Neither woman answered him.

“Elise?”

“It is only a small matter, dear. Nothing for you to fuss about.”

“Hmph.” He threw Fanny a hostile look.

Suddenly, it was all too much, and the dam broke.

“I know I owe a great deal to the two of you giving me a home and for sponsoring my come out. You think you are doing me a great favor by saving my reputation. But have you considered what you have asked me to give up? Do you think my love for the marquis to be in any way less than the love you had for each other when you were courting?”

Elise and the Duke looked at one another. Her sister put the tips of her fingers against her lips. “Love?”

The Duke said, “You think we are robbing you of your future? You think your behavior will not repulse Deal?”

“I know it did not. Furthermore, whatever he said to you on the day we became engaged is no longer so. He returns my regard in every way. And he knows, no one better, how reckless I am.
It does not matter to him.
”

When the two appeared stricken by her pronouncement
,
Fanny continued, “I came away, not to save my reputation, but for the sake of Elise and Sophie. I am not an infant to be soothed into good humor by the promise of a treat. I am a grown woman. And I am going to marry the Marquis of Deal.”

“Grown ladies of the
ton
do not act as you do, Fanny,” the duke said, his tone measured.

“Have you not been listening? That may matter to you. Of course it does. And I am sorry for you that I have trespassed beyond the
ton’s
shibboleths. But that behavior is of no consequence where my fiancé is concerned. You must trust me in this.”

“If he loves you, his lordship will be very angry with us for spiriting you away,” Elise said.

“You are right,” Fanny said. “Now, if you will stop the carriage, I should like to take a short walk. The atmosphere in here has been strained for two days. I should like some relief, even if it is just for a few minutes.”

The walk soothed her only for a short while. The exercise and the argument had exhausted her, and Fanny nodded off and soon began to dream. She was hiding in the blackness of a wardrobe, smelling camphor and hearing her mother rant, full of rage at the servants. She wanted to know where Fanny was. It was time to go calling on the neighbors. Time for her daughter to show off her new gown so that everyone would realize what a beauty she was and what a fine mother she had. Fanny wondered again that her mother could explode over such a simple thing as this.

Something hard inside Fanny refused to lend herself to this deception once more. She would no longer be a pawn in her mother’s game to elevate her status in the neighborhood. When they went into the neighbor’s house, Fanny released hundreds of mice from under her skirts and they ran around Lady Hatfield’s best sitting room. Everyone stood on the furniture and screamed.

She woke up feeling like a naughty child again.

Her mother had married the twins, Harriet and Juliet years ago, to a pair of viscounts, and Elise had married a duke. Lady Hatchet had succeeded. Now it was Fanny’s turn. Except she had, in truth, hidden in a wardrobe rather than be used as a tool in her mother’s social climbing.

Eventually, she had had to come out, but she waited until bedtime when her parents had gone to dinner at a neighbor’s house. She was to have attended that function, as well. Fanny had gone to her room, removed the ostentatious new gown from her wardrobe, and burned it in the kitchen stove.

Of course, such deeds did not go unpunished. Like Elise, she had her scars, both mental and physical. And now Elise was whisking her away from London so society could not punish her.