Wicked Wager (12 page)

Then suddenly her interested look turned inwards, and with sinking heart he realised a woman of such purity and virtue would not wish to throw in her lot with a man of his character.

Yet when she replied her reasons were not quite along these lines, although she failed to address them adequately, to his mind.

‘Lord Peregrine, you do me the greatest honour. It's what I've desired up until this very moment, but now I realise the futility of such dreams.' Her mouth trembled and tears gathered in her eyes. ‘It's simply not possible.'

‘Not possible?' He pushed back his shoulders and stared down at her, indignation swamping him. How could she think of rejecting him? Why? He'd never honoured a woman like this before.

Ashamed, he realised his inner rake had taken over; this may be the very reason she chose to continue on her current, perhaps safer, path.

Still, he had to push her for a reason while trying to persuade her. ‘Miss Rosington, I desire above all else to marry you, and you've just admitted you desired me; that you
wished
for such an outcome. How, then, is a union between us not possible?'

He waited, ready to counter any reason she might have, for he was determined now.

She hung her head and her shoulders slumped. ‘For so long I've begged Raphael to release me from our contract, even though there were no other contenders, and knowing he does not, and will never, love me. But he has always refused.'

‘You are not his wife
yet
. You don't need his approval.' If this were all, it could be easily fixed. But she'd not yet indicated the extent of her feelings for him and suddenly nothing was more important that he be assured that what was in her heart echoed the desperate roiling to be together that churned in his.

‘You've not told me you would accept me … if I could arrange matters with Lord Ogilvy and your uncle.'

‘Oh, but I would—'

‘And you love me? As I love you? For I do, Miss Rosington … Celeste. Indeed I do!'

‘Yes!'

He would have kissed her again had he not heard voices on the other side of the door and been reminded that time was of the essence. ‘Then I shall consult with your uncle and a contract pleasing to all will be drawn up.' He clenched his jaw. ‘Whatever terms he has made with Raphael, I shall ensure my offer trumps your cousin's.'

‘You make it sound as if I'm the spoils of a game of hazard,' she observed sadly, shaking her head. ‘No, my lord, there is no chance matters will run in your favour, for Raphael has too much invested in marrying me. Please do not press me on my reasons, but the truth is that I realise now my cousin will hound me to the ends of the earth to ensure that I do my duty by him; that is, that I honour my promise and marry him—as I'm due to do in just a few short days.'

The more she objected the more determined Peregrine became that he would have her.

‘Miss Rosington, you have captivated me. Entranced me. The idea that I will wake up in a week, knowing I will never see you again, is untenable.'

The voices of the others in the gallery, which had become muted with distance, now grew louder, signalling the need for even greater urgency. He caught her by the hands, pulling her quickly away from the door as he said in a low, hurried voice, ‘Then we shall elope. In three days' time I can secure a Special Licence and make the necessary arrangements. You say you'd marry me if it were not for your fear of your cousin making your life intolerable. Well, Dearheart, in three days' time you shall be
my
wife and there'll not be anything he can do about it. What do you say?'

She stared up at him, the fear in her eyes slowly turning to luminescent delight while his own heart beat out a joyful tattoo to witness the transformation that, yes,
he
had effected.

‘I accept, Lord Peregrine.'

He wanted to swoop down and kiss her once more, but first he needed to ensure he'd covered every contingency.

‘I will contact you as soon as I have something secured,' he told her, thinking as he spoke. He gripped her hands tight and held them to his lips, punctuating his sentences with kisses upon her knuckles. ‘Have a small bag packed with your valuables at the ready, in case it's not possible to take your trunk in the first instance. Tomorrow I shall write to you with an address. In all probability it will be easier if you pretend you are taking your maid to visit an acquaintance, therefore I shall choose a respectable meeting place at a respectable time. I do not wish to chance your reputation by whisking you off in the middle of the night.'

‘You are most thoughtful, my lord.' Her mouth trembled with suppressed laughter and her eyes danced, and as he gazed upon the delightful reordering of her features he felt an overwhelming happiness, accompanied by a spear of lust.

Perhaps she was thinking what a surprise turn of events this marriage offer was compared with the illicit night of passion she must have suspected he'd originally planned.

Certainly his mind was consumed by the night of passion now so imminent, and so worth waiting for.

Their wedding night.

***

And indeed, when Celeste's legs buckled under her as she took a seat in the drawing room of her aunt's townhouse later that afternoon and accepted a dish of tea, her mind was wholly occupied with wicked thoughts of what it really would be like to be Lord Peregrine's wife, not Raphael's.

She was finally stirred to more a robust awareness of her surroundings by the arrival of Raphael, who swept into the elegantly appointed room like a sleek black cat, tossing his
tricorne
hat onto a nearby footstool before taking her free hand and brushing the back of it with his lips.

She tried not to recoil.

‘How pleasant to see you,' she lied, tensing as she prepared for his inevitable inquisition.

He ignored the pleasantry. ‘How did you find Romney's portraits?' He pulled away, raking his hand through his queue, his pinched handsome face showing his strain as he paced before the fire with his usual restlessness.

She knew he wasn't the slightest bit interested in whether she'd enjoyed them or otherwise, though she was concerned he might have had her trailed.

Still, she'd not behaved with immodesty in public; so even if Mary had been quizzed, the girl could honestly say her mistress had met Lord Peregrine at the studio, and farewelled him there, too.

She opened her mouth, still unsure what words to utter, for she did not know how much Raphael knew of her movements, when he cut in.

‘Lord Peregrine is clearly taken with you. Did you succeed in drawing information from him?' His thoughts were obviously focused on Harry, not Celeste. ‘Perhaps you entertain the same suspicions I do over Lord Peregrine's involvement. He met the
Batavia
when Harry was disembarking, and Harry was one of only a handful of gentlemen passengers onboard. Perhaps Lord Peregrine had him followed to the lawyer's, and what he learned there prompted him to have a hand in what happened later? Did you think there was more he wasn't telling you, Celeste? Is it possible Lord Peregrine could in some way be responsible for what happened to Harry? That
he
sent the cutthroats, perhaps, or is in fact holding Harry himself?'

Celeste hoped Raphael's preoccupation with these various conspiracies was enough to draw his attention from the indignation she was unable to hide. What a ridiculous notion, that Lord Peregrine was involved with Harry's plight.

Raphael swung round to look at her once more, a faint smile marring his handsome face. ‘But mayhap these are matters he's only prepared to divulge with a little more … persuasion. After all, a rake such as Lord Peregrine is used to enjoying the audience of a beautiful woman. No doubt you are simply one more conquest for him. And Lord Peregrine obviously hasn't an inkling of your real interest in Harry Carstairs.'

He moved behind her, his breath hot on the back of her neck as he lay his hand on her shoulder and bent to whisper in her ear, making her squirm in discomfort. Raphael knew more than she did. But Lord Peregrine involved in wrongdoing? No, certainly not that. He wanted to
marry
her. He was sincere. She might not be the experienced jade he'd thought her when he first pursued her, but she had no doubt about his sincerity in this important matter.

Struggling for inspiration, Celeste cast about for what snippets that might satisfy Raphael. What could she tell her betrothed that would make him retreat, leave her alone, drop his hand from her shoulder this moment? Release her forever.

Or at least for the next couple of days so she could wait in peace for the letter that would arrive from …

Her future husband, Lord Peregrine.

She put her hand to her heart to still its wild palpitations, though pretending languid boredom while her mind raced for an answer that would solve her current distress.

‘Lord Peregrine was disappointing when it came to information regarding Harry's exact whereabouts; however, it would appear that Harry has ….'

Even in her self-imposed darkness she was acutely aware of Raphael, tense and waiting. He was like a coiled spring or the bow of an arrow drawn back, ready to leap to life the moment she satisfied him with her response.

‘… Communicated.'

Celeste stared into the dregs of her tea, immediately wishing she'd thought of something else to tell him as she tried to dampen her restless excitement. Why this? A lie she could not substantiate? It had been prompted by foolish desperation when she was surely cleverer than that.

Yet she'd had to think of something. She was not rid of Raphael's hold over her, and until that time she needed reasons up her sleeve for her cousin to sanction future freedom.

‘He's sent a letter?' Raphael smoothed the snowy linen at his neck, his voice infused with sudden pleasure as he began to pace once more. ‘Then he's not dead?' At the window embrasure he flung round, his countenance so radiant with joy that Celeste nearly wilted in the face of it, knowing how consumed with rage he'd be when he learned of her treachery.

Oh Lord, but she was so ready to escape him.

‘And Lord Peregrine gave me … this.' She swallowed, holding out the locket.

In two strides Raphael was before her, towering over the little gilt chair Celeste occupied and staring down at her open palm.

‘This is … incredible, Celeste.' He held out his hand for the locket then, frowning, began to study it, both on the outside and the inside. His voice was full of wonder. ‘Why, my dear, you have achieved a success I'd strongly doubted. I was certain his lordship would place certain … conditions upon its return.'

He quirked an eyebrow and his lips twitched. ‘I shall not ask if you were forced to trade a kiss at Romney's studio, Celeste. I had you followed, you know, but nothing untoward could have occurred during such a brief interlude.' His smile grew wider as he gazed upon the locket. ‘So Harry is alive and well, yet you have not told me how he has communicated and from whom you received the information. Lord Peregrine, I presume. Well, I shall soon find Harry and then you and I will be married, and Harry will accompany us to Jamaica. Joy will be in the ascendant and no more will I subject you to the dangers this unconscionable libertine Lord Peregrine poses.'

Celeste was unable to meet Raphael's inquisitorial gaze. ‘Lord Peregrine gave the locket to me … as a token … of what else he's prepared to tell me, knowing my interest.'

Raphael stilled. His look narrowed and his voice dropped. ‘And what did you suggest to Lord Peregrine
was
your interest?'

Nausea rose up in her throat. She was not in the habit of lying. Lord Peregrine knew nothing further he could add to the mystery.

‘I told him Harry was my lover,' she whispered, shrinking from Raphael's uncertain reaction; but this lie, based on Lord Peregrine's initial suspicions of her, was her only inspiration. Quickly she went on in the silence, ‘I made clear my interest in Lord Peregrine but said that naturally I was concerned, in view of my past association with Harry, that he was safe.' She clasped her hands together to stay their trembling as she went on, ‘I suggested to Lord Peregrine that he might be induced to tell me what information he'd hinted to me he had pertaining to Harry's whereabouts.'

To her astonishment, Raphael let out a roar of laughter. Sobering, he raked her with the critical gaze she was so used to and never failed to make her feel like a piece of meat or a partridge on a hook, curing in the larder. ‘Why, my dear Celeste, I truly did not believe you capable of such subterfuge. You told him you were Harry's lover? Well, that's what Lord Peregrine has believed of you from the start, I daresay. But why did you suspect Lord Peregrine had knowledge or involvement in Harry's disappearance, might I ask?'

Celeste couldn't meet his eye. Staring into the fire, she whispered, ‘It was a chance remark he made …'
What, oh what, could she say
? Then she remembered Lord Cowdril's comment at the dinner table and on a wave of inspiration she added, ‘Harry owes him a lot of money. I believe Harry owes a lot of people a lot of money, and something you said earlier and something else Lord Peregrine said hinted that someone may be holding Harry either as revenge or until he recouped what he was owed.'

This certainly got Raphael's attention. ‘But Lord Peregrine gave you the locket, Celeste. Why? The locket was his means of recouping what he was owed, yet he clearly didn't know it.'

‘What do you mean, Raphael?' She cocked her head. ‘I am confused. You've said this locket is meaningful, but you've not said exactly how its value extends beyond its value in gold, or indeed, its sentimental value.'

Raphael grinned. ‘There are six numbers engraved on the inside, behind Miss Paige's picture.' He sounded smug. ‘These are the numbers to a security box containing Harry's aunt's fortune. That is why Harry sent the locket to me and why he needs it so much.' He chuckled. ‘But now you have it. Oh my dear, that was masterful. If Lord Peregrine wishes to receive what is owed him he need have looked no further. Clearly when Harry entrusted the locket to a message boy, he believed at the time he could escape or that he'd not be killed rather than be forced to give up his fortune, but
I
would do anything to secure Harry's release. Now it is up to you, Celeste, to determine the terms of his ransom.'