The Player (Rockliffe Book 3) (19 page)

Her colour rose slightly and she said simply, ‘You
are worth it to me.’

‘That is … Caroline, I have no words.’
 
In two strides his arms were round her,
cradling her against his chest. ‘You make me weak. What am I to do with you?’

‘You could ask me the question you’ve been
avoiding asking.
 
Perhaps I’ll say no.’

She felt his sudden quiver of laughter. ‘Will
you?’

‘Will I what?’

‘Will you say no?’

‘You aren’t playing fair,’ she grumbled.

‘True.
 
This
is something you should know about me.’
 
He released her and stepped back.
 
‘Well then, my Caroline.
 
If you
are sure … if you are of a total and utter certainty … will you do me the very
great honour of becoming my wife?’

And lifting her face to him, incandescent with
joy, she said, ‘Yes, Claude.
 
I will.’

He kissed her then.
 
Claude did it because it was perfectly
natural.
 
Adrian did it because he
thought it was the last chance he’d get for quite a while … and because he
wanted to know if her response was as sweet and intense as he remembered.

It was.
 
Her
arms slid around his neck and her fingers tangled in his hair as she melted
into him.
 
He found her combination of
innocence and eagerness strangely seductive.
 
But it also caused his conscience to smite him with the knowledge of his
own deception.
 
He knew that, in most respects,
what he was doing was utterly wrong.
 
He
just hoped that, in time, those respects would be outweighed by the fact that
his intentions were well-meaning and largely honourable.
 
Having allowed the kiss to deepen a little
further than was wise, he released her mouth and stepped back.
 
Time to address the practicalities.

Brushing a strand of hair back from her face, he
said, ‘Listen now. There are many details to take care of and I will need a
little time.
 
All should be in readiness
by the night after tomorrow, however.
 
Do
you have an engagement for that evening with the lady whose pearls I stole?’

‘Yes.
 
A
rout, I think.’

‘Then, some hours before, send a note saying you
are unwell.
 
I remember that her coach is
plain with no crest upon the panels so I shall hire one similar and come for
you in her place.
 
Meanwhile, you should
pack things you need and bring them here tomorrow at nine in the morning where
a Frenchman named Bertrand Didier will be waiting to bring them to me.
 
Is this possible?’

‘Yes.
 
I
think so.’

‘
Bon
.
 
You will wish to leave a note for your
family, of course.
 
Tell them you are
perfectly safe and will write again very soon.’
 
He grinned suddenly. ‘It might be best
not
to write that you are running away with the notorious Claude
Duvall. It may give rise to anxiety.’

Caroline nodded.
 
‘Will we have to travel to Scotland?’

‘No. It is possible to obtain a licence permitting
one to marry swiftly.
 
This, I shall
do.’
 
The laughter faded and his eyes
searched her face.
 
‘Remember … you do
not have to do this, Caroline.
 
If you
change your mind – if you feel even a small doubt – hang something white from
an upper window and I shall know not to trouble you further.
 
Is this understood?’

‘Understood – but unnecessary.’
 
She would have liked to tell him that she
loved him but held the words back.
 
He
hadn’t yet said them to her; and, when he did, she wanted him to say them
freely rather than because he felt obliged to do so. ‘Is there anything else?’

‘One thing.’
 
Duvall removed her ruby from his own hand and slid in on to the third
finger of her left one.
 
‘I promised to
return this and now seems the right time.
 
Wear it as a token of my promise,
mignonne
… until I place another one beside it.’

~
 
*
 
*
 
~
 
*
 
*
 
~

‘You belong in the mad-house,’ said Bertrand
flatly when he’d heard the entire story. ‘It’s the craziest and most asinine
plan I ever heard.
 
Why the hell didn’t
you just play the martyr and walk away?’

‘I intended to – and I would have if she hadn’t
been completely besotted with Duvall.’

‘What difference does that make?
 
She’d have accepted the offer you made her as
the Earl, wouldn’t she?
 
Christ, Adrian –
what
else
was she going to do?’

‘That’s just the trouble.
 
I don’t know.
 
Any female who’ll take a highway robber in preference to a peer of the
realm isn’t exactly predictable.
 
And
Sheringham’s desperate – which necessitates removing her from his orbit before
he tries to abduct her again.
 
Surely you
can see that?’

‘I can see a whole lot of
questions
.
 
One of them is
whether or not you actually
want
to
marry the girl.’

Adrian shrugged and became suddenly intent on
brushing fluff from his sleeve.

‘I always intended to marry.
 
We both know that.
 
Caroline Maitland will suit me as well as any
other – and better than most.’

Bertrand subjected him to a long, hard stare and
thought,
Well now. That’s interesting
.

He said abruptly, ‘When she learns what you’ve
done, she’s going to hate you – and rightly so.
 
You know that, don’t you?’

‘Of course I know it – but with roughly forty-eight
hours in which to organise an elopement, I’m damned if I’m going to waste time
worrying about that now. So are you going to help me or not?’

‘It’s enough that you’re acting like a
lunatic.
 
You don’t have to be an idiot,
as well,’ came the irritable reply.
 
‘What do you want me to do?’

‘Collect Caroline’s baggage from her at nine
tomorrow in Kensington Gardens and bring it here.
 
By that time, I’ll be back myself so you’ll
be able to take the horse.
 
Then I want
you to ride to Kent.
 
I’ve a house on the
coast near Sandwich.
 
It’s been empty for
years save for a couple who act as caretakers.
 
I need it setting in some sort of order as quickly as possible – not the
whole house necessarily but the kitchen, main parlour and bedchambers.
 
Hire as many hands as are required to get it
done but don’t keep them on afterwards – though we’ll need a cook, of course,
and possibly one maid.
 
I’ll leave that
to you.
 
Then, once everything is in
train, come back.
 
I’ll need you here by
seven o’clock on Monday evening at the latest.’

‘The coast and back with a job in between?
 
You don’t want much, do you?’

‘I know – and I’m sorry,’ shrugged Adrian. ‘But it
can’t be helped.
 
And I’ve total faith in
your capabilities.’

‘Butter me up some more, why don’t you?
 
It’s bound to make all the difference,’ came
the dry response.
 
Then, ‘And while I’m
risking my neck flying
ventre
à
terre
about the countryside, what are
you
going to be doing?’

‘I’ll need to ride in the park early tomorrow so
Caroline can refuse Sarre’s offer.
 
It’s
the only way she knows to reach him and I don’t believe she’ll leave without a
word.
 
Then --’

‘Whoa!’
 
Bertrand held up his hand.
 
‘You’ve got to stop doing that.’

‘Doing what?’

‘Talking about the Earl as if he was a separate
person.
 
Sarre isn’t
him
– he’s
you
.’

‘I know that.’

‘It doesn’t sound like it. It sounds as if you’re
not right in the head.’

‘It’s a convenience, for God’s sake.
 
With the current complications, if I used the
first person all the time you’d never know who the hell I was talking about.’

 
Bertrand
gave a snort that might have been laughter and said, ‘All right.
 
So you’ll meet the girl – who is beginning to
sound every bit as deranged as you are yourself – and then what?’

Adrian began ticking off tasks on his fingers.

‘Procure a special licence, hire a coach – which,
by the way, is why I need you back on Monday in order to drive it; write notes
cancelling all my engagements, call on Henry Lessing and see Aristide.
 
And probably half a dozen other things I
haven’t thought of yet.’
 
He leaned his
head back against the chair and grinned.
 
‘God alone knows what it’s all going to cost.
 
But there’s immense comfort in the thought
that, at the end of the day, it’s going to cost Marcus Sheringham even more.’

*
 
*
 
*

On the following morning and precisely as Adrian
had expected, Mistress Maitland waylaid the Earl of Sarre on his morning ride
and politely declined his proposal of marriage.
 
His lordship displayed all the appropriate signs of regret but was
persuaded to take his defeat gracefully.
 
Mistress Maitland then tripped off, presumably heaving a huge sigh of
relief, to deliver her neatly-packed portmanteau to Monsieur Didier.

So far, so
good
, thought Adrian, riding home so Argan would be ready to carry Monsieur
Didier to Kent.
Let’s hope the rest of it
goes as smoothly
.

He began by making application for a marriage
licence and, when this was finally in his hand, turned his attention to hiring
a plain, black travelling carriage and pair.
 
This done, he visited Mr Lessing to ensure that all the requisite
arrangements in the event of his forthcoming marriage were immediately set in
hand.
 
Mr Lessing primly congratulated
him on his approaching nuptials … and again, rather more warmly, when he
learned the identity of the bride-to-be.
 
Lord Sarre smiled, expressed his thanks and instructed the lawyer to
wait for five days and then to put the appropriate notice in the newspaper.

Mr Lessing’s brows rose.

‘Five days, my lord?
 
Why so long?’

‘I’m merely erring on the side of caution,’
returned the Earl pleasantly. ‘In case there are any unforeseen delays.’

 
Once more
back in Cork Street, Adrian settled down to write various notes which he had
the footman deliver …
 
and another longer
one, which he placed in his coat pocket for delivery later and in person. Then
he sat down with a glass of wine and mentally examined his preparations.
 
He had just two more calls left to pay, one of
which couldn’t be made until the next day.
 
Tonight, however, he could combine Aristide with a decent supper.
 
He tossed back his remaining wine, made swift
work of changing his clothes and set off for Sinclair’s.

*
 
*
 
*

He revealed his intention to marry Caroline
Maitland but withheld a few of the minor details – such as the fact that she
thought he was a highwayman named Claude Duvall.
 
Even so, in most particulars, Aristide’s
reaction mirrored Bertrand’s.

‘Doubtless you know your own business best –
though tying yourself for life to a woman you’ve only met a handful of times sounds
like a high price to pay to settle an old score.’

‘An old score?’ snapped Adrian. ‘The man called me
a murderer ten years ago and he’s still doing it.’

‘Not so old, then.
 
And I suppose there’s always the money.’

‘It isn’t about the money.’

‘Of course it is,’ came the impatient reply.
‘You’re marrying her so Sheringham can’t.
 
What else is it about, if not the money?’

‘The girl herself.
 
She doesn’t deserve to be carried off and coerced into matrimony.’

The Frenchman’s brows rose.

‘Correct me if I’m wrong … but aren’t you doing
something pretty similar yourself?’

‘No,’ said Adrian uneasily. ‘She’s agreed to
elope.’
 
Just not with me
.
 
‘I suspect
she thinks it’s romantic.’

‘God help her, then.
 
And you, too.’
 
He reached for the bottle and poured more
wine.
 
‘How long do you expect to be
away?’

‘It’s difficult to say.
 
A couple of weeks, perhaps.’
 
A small square of pasteboard made its way
across the table.
 
‘If there’s anything
you think I should know or if you should need me urgently, that’s where I’ll
be.
 
I’ve told Henry to put a notice in
the
Morning Chronicle
next Thursday,
by which time I expect to married.
 
Until
then, you’d best be on your guard since there’s a chance Sheringham may try
something else against the club.’

‘And after it?’ asked Aristide.

‘Oh … then he’ll probably come after me instead.’

‘Where’s the point in that?’

‘Probably so he can stick a knife in my back.’

*
 
*
 
*

With all his other arrangements securely in place,
the next afternoon saw Lord Sarre dressing carefully for his final and
trickiest meeting.
 
He’d thought long and
hard about the wisdom of this but had decided that, if all went as he hoped,
the rewards outweighed the risks.

He was admitted without demur to the house in
Albemarle Street by a butler who, in the absence of a footman, laid his
lordship’s hat, gloves and cloak aside before walking sedately to parlour and
announcing him.

‘The Earl of Sarre, my lady.’

Lily Brassington looked up from the letter she had
been writing and stared across the room, plainly disconcerted.
 
Then, rising, she said, ‘Thank you, Soames.
 
I will ring when I need you.’

‘Very good, my lady.’

The butler bowed and withdrew.
 
Sarre suspected he’d gone no further than the
other side of the door.
 
Meanwhile, her
ladyship said coolly, ‘My lord.
 
I don’t
believe we have ever been introduced.
 
Unless my memory is at fault?’

‘It isn’t.
 
And your ladyship is quite right.
 
It is atrociously ill-mannered of me to call without any prior
acquaintance.
 
But I’m hoping that, if
you’ll hear my reasons, you will understand why I came.’

She took a long, thoughtful look at him, noting
the mask-like absence of expression, the hard lines of cheek and jaw and the
exquisite tailoring.
 
And, while she
looked, she reviewed what she’d heard about him – none of which inclined her in
his favour.
 
Had she known that her
steady regard was making the Earl want to fidget, she might have liked him a
little better.

Finally she said, ‘Very well, my lord.
 
What is it you want?’

‘I want your help – though not so much for myself,
you understand.’

‘Then for whom?’

‘A young lady I believe you already hold in some
affection.
 
Mistress Maitland.’

Lily drew herself up very straight and her eyes
shot daggers at him.

‘And what, exactly, have
you
to do with Caroline?’

‘Not what you may be thinking,’ he said mildly.
And with a slight, sweeping gesture of one hand, ‘It’s … complicated.’

‘Simplify it.’

Sarre began to admire Lady Brassington, not least
because she hadn’t bothered to offer him a seat or insisted on ringing for tea.

‘I’ll do my best.
 
Two nights ago at the Pantheon, Marcus Sheringham attempted to abduct
Mistress Maitland --’

‘
He did
what?
’

‘He tried to abduct her in order to force her to
the altar,’ said Sarre composedly. ‘Since you were in her company last evening,
you will realise that he failed.
 
Obviously she didn’t mention any of this to you.’

Shock temporarily deprived her ladyship of speech.
Then, ‘Not a word.
 
Are you
sure?
’

‘Perfectly.
 
Lord Sheringham’s plan was foiled by a certain French highwayman, after
which --’

‘
A
highwayman?
 
How --?
 
No.
 
Never mind.
 
Just go on.’

‘It was after the Frenchman spoiled his lordship’s
game that I entered the picture.
 
I
warned Mistress Maitland that Sheringham is now desperate enough to try again. I
also offered her a way to make any further such attempt impossible.’

‘How, exactly?’

‘I asked her to marry me and assured her –
truthfully, as it happens – that my reasons for doing so were not the same as
Sheringham’s.’
 
His smile was faint and
fleeting.
 
‘She refused.’

By now her ladyship was staring at him with a sort
of bemused fascination.

‘Did … did she say why?’

‘She didn’t.
 
But then, she didn’t have to.
 
I
already knew.’ He paused.
 
‘She refused
me because she’s in love with the highwayman.’