Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

“ S top fidgeting,” Ashton growled.

Rafe scowled as he continued to tug at the cravat at his throat, which had tightened around him like a hangman’s noose. He was fidgeting, but he’d be damned if he let his older brother order him around, especially while trapped in the confines of a coach on the way to a ball he hadn’t had the least desire to attend.

Rosalind sat beside Ashton, her arm entwined with his, grinning at Rafe from the seat across from him. “Rafe, ’tis only a little country ball.”

Her light Scottish accent made him suddenly long to be back at home with Isla. She had wanted to come and see him dance tonight, but she was young, and sadly, it simply wasn’t done for a child to attend balls. At least, not balls of this sort, the glorified mating rituals that adults put themselves through. Perhaps he could talk his brother into having a small family one so he could dance with his daughter. By now, she would be tucked away in her bed, sleeping while her nanny was on guard for the night.

“You’re enjoying this far too much,” Rafe muttered to Rosalind as he forced himself to stay still.

The coach hit a rut and pitched to the side, making him brace himself against the wall of the conveyance.

“Bloody hell, is the driver aiming for every hole on the blasted road? When are we going to arrive, anyway?” Rafe had asked that question three times already, and he wanted out of this coach.

Ashton shared a look with Rosalind, and Rafe’s scowl deepened. They were amused at his expense.

Rafe stuck his head out of the coach window to see if the Merton house in the distance was any closer. Lit torches were stationed in a line down the long drive, and the light from them danced against the line of carriages ahead of them. He counted nearly twenty. That meant the ball would be packed to the edges with dozens of eligible women. He sank back into his seat and grimaced as he realized his brother and sister-in-law would force him to meet half of them tonight.

“We need not stay overly long, Rafe,” Ashton soothed, but his tone was teasing. “ Just long enough for you to find a wife.”

While Rafe was fond of this new, softer side to his brother, he did not enjoy being on the receiving end of his teasing.

“If Rosalind wasn’t here, I would plant a facer on you, brother,” Rafe growled. His hands clenched into fists where they rested on his thighs.

“You would try,” said Ashton.

“Oh, but you must think of Isla,” Rosalind said. “There might be a wonderful young lady here tonight who would be the perfect person for you and your daughter.”

Blast and damn. Rosalind knew how to sink a knife into his ribs with the truth. He must think of Isla, and she did need a mother. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to accept the idea of marrying a woman just for his child. He needed to find someone who would suit them both, and he wasn’t sure such a lady existed.

“I will look, but if I find none to interest me, I will leave, no matter how early it is.” He crossed his arms over his chest and stared a little too petulantly out the window into the darkness.

“Dance with ten women and I will let you leave,” Ashton said.

“Five,” Rafe countered. Not that Ashton could stop him from leaving, but he did love a good haggle.

Ashton stared at him, steel behind his blue eyes. “Eight.”

“Fine.” The brothers shook upon the agreement, and Rosalind rolled her eyes, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like a Scottish word for fools.

When their coach finally stopped in front of the Merton house, two footmen helped Rosalind down and took her cloak and gloves. Ashton and Rafe followed her up the stairs and into the crush of the crowd.

Golden light filled the hall as they joined the queue of guests waiting to be announced before entering the ballroom. Once inside, Rafe took the measure of the Merton ballroom with a mild, somewhat jaded curiosity. Paintings in gilded frames hung on the walls and a string quartet played at the front of the room. It was certainly a ballroom that could challenge some of the best in London. Mr. Merton was rich indeed to have such a country house so well furnished and designed. The music drifted with a pleasant laziness through the room as people danced. For a moment, Rafe allowed himself to let go of his past and take in the present moment of merriment around him.

He had loved to dance, but the darkness in his soul had eventually drowned even the simple joys in life, such as a waltz with a pretty woman.

Ashton placed a hand on his shoulder. “ Eight women. Surely there’s one among these fine ladies who might be your destiny?”

Destiny? Until he’d abducted that pretty little creature and taken her to his lodge, he hadn’t believed in such things. He fought off the urge to reach for the pearl necklace he’d wound around his wrist, which he’d tucked under his coat sleeve. He’d wanted to feel that pearl, the only piece of her that he possessed, brush against his skin. That woman had made him think destiny might indeed exist. But he couldn’t marry a woman like that—a woman who stole, a woman just like him. Isla needed a mother, not a thief, because her father already was one.

Rafe swallowed a laugh and simply answered his brother with a nod. Then Ashton took his wife to greet their hosts, the Mertons, leaving Rafe to fixate on how quickly he could entice eight women to dance with him so that he could make his escape.

A familiar voice called out, “Rafe, what the devil are you doing here?”

He turned to see Graham Humphrey, the younger brother of the Earl of Lonsdale, who was one of Ashton’s friends. As younger brothers to infamous members of the League of Rogues, Graham and Rafe got along splendidly whenever their paths crossed.

“Graham.” He shook hands with his old friend. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” Graham was much like Rafe and chose to spend his time with opera singers and ballet dancers or the latest actress who was taking London by storm. A ball with fresh-faced young women hoping for marriage proposals was the last place the younger Humphrey brother would normally be.

Graham shrugged. “I vowed to wife hunt this year, if only so my mother would leave me at peace for another season. What about you?”

“The same fate, I fear, though my mother has enlisted my brother to see me leg-shackled. How are the prospects tonight? Any chit worth a dance?”

Graham chuckled. “Well, the Merton girl is certainly worth a dance. I found her quite lively, yet with no silly stars in her eyes. A sensible creature with stunning curves.”

“Which one is she?” Rafe vaguely remembered Rachel Merton growing up as neighbors. She’d attended family picnics and gone shopping in the nearby village with Joanna, but Rafe had paid so little attention to younger women back then. His sights had been set on the experienced courtesans in London, women who expected nothing but passion from a virile young man. Tonight, however, he would be dancing with young women who dreamed of finding a husband, which meant he had to be on his best behavior. Any sign of flirtation could be taken the wrong way and he could end up facing the father, expecting a request for permission to court her.

“Rachel Merton is the dark-haired beauty in the white-and-gold gown.” Graham discreetly tilted his head, and Rafe followed his gaze across the ballroom.

An admittedly stunning creature was dancing with a gentleman. Her dark hair was pulled up in a fashionable style, with a diamond-studded gold tiara nestled in her tresses. Her dress was no less than the height of fashion, and her face glowed with animation as she laughed at something her dance partner had said.

“Quite pretty,” Rafe admitted, but nothing in this woman enchanted him the way his little fire drake had when she’d defied him by slipping that pearl necklace into her bodice. Was he now to measure every woman against her ? He let out a sigh of disappointment as he looked over the other guests.

A tingle shot across his skin, like the feeling of a coming summer storm.

There, in the shadows at the edge of the light, was a woman unnoticed by the men around her. It was little wonder, given how little attention she drew to herself. Her dark hair was pulled up in a simple style and she wore no adornments on her ears, neck, or brow. Her gown, clearly several seasons out of date, was a somewhat simple thing, yet somehow on her utterly striking at the same time. The dark-blue gown was covered with a sparkling silver netting that had hundreds of stars stitched into patterns of the constellations of the night sky.

When Rafe’s gaze moved up to the woman’s face, he sucked in a breath as he felt an invisible fist drive itself into his belly.

The clever little thief. The seductress he’d made love to in his hideout. The fire drake who’d stolen his loot and made him want to shake and kiss her all at once. It was her .

He grabbed Graham’s forearm. “Who is she?” he said in a desperate whisper.

Graham glanced about, clearly confused as to who Rafe meant. “Who?”

“The woman just there. The one in the blue gown with silver netting.”

Graham studied the girl for a moment. “I haven’t the faintest idea. I saw her speak to the Merton girl and I believe they might be friends, but I haven’t been introduced to her. She’s been quite the wallflower this evening. So much so that I barely noticed her.”

Wallflower? No, she was no trembling wallflower—she was ever-growing lush green ivy, covering the entirety of his dark soul.

“She is...” There were no words that could encompass what she was. She was as bewitching as the night sky that adorned her body.

“I imagine she’s poor as a church mouse,” Graham said. “Gown’s too old. She’s not even wearing paste jewels to pretend she’s better off. You had better be careful, old friend. That parson’s mousetrap might shut on you if you get too close.”

Poor? Ha! That woman had stolen a fortune from him, Will, and Caspian. He couldn’t help but wonder why she was playing a poor church mouse now. Was she clever enough to know that showing a sudden growth in wealth as a single woman with no male family members would be highly suspicious? Yes, yes of course she was. She was indeed far too clever, and the thought of her cleverness turned in the right direction made his blood run hot with lust. Oh, the things he could teach her, the things she would embrace with wicked excitement...

Rafe began to wind his way through the guests, stalking his prey. He had never imagined in a thousand years that he would stumble into her, let alone at a country ball.

All the fantasies he’d been having about her in the last month, what he would do when he found her, flashed across his mind like a dazzling, enticing kaleidoscope.

The woman stared with muted resignation at the dancing couples, clearly at a loss as to what to do but not willing to draw attention to herself. She hadn’t seen him yet, which gave him time to admire her. How could she not be drawing everyone’s gaze? She was like a star in the night sky. Even without the artifice of candlelight, she shone. She needed no adornments, no jewels, but here she faded beneath the sconces and chandeliers, her celestial brilliance dimmed. But he saw her, and he would not let his shining star escape him this time. He would have her in his bed, and he would get his stolen money back.

His view was blocked as Rosalind and Ashton came to speak with her. Rafe shifted his position to get a better look and saw that the color had drained from her face, so much so that her skin had turned a worrying shade of alabaster. What was Ashton saying to her to make her look suddenly ill?

A hand clapped on Rafe’s shoulder in greeting, preventing him from continuing in the woman’s direction. “Ah, Mr. Lennox, how very kind of you to join us.” He turned to see Mr. Merton beaming jovially at him. Rafe held in a growl. Damnation, he would have to talk to the host, and quickly, so he could get back to his hunt.

“Good evening, Mr. Merton. I thank you for the invitation.” He summoned a smile and fought the urge to look toward his distant, shining star.

“We were delighted to hear from your brother that you would be attending. My daughter, Rachel, would certainly be honored if you asked her to dance.” He waved at his daughter, who had just curtsied to her partner after finishing their dance. She floated across the room and accepted her father’s arm. She smiled warmly at Rafe and seemed to instantly read the situation, most likely because her father had been throwing her in the path of gentlemen all night.

“Mr. Lennox, it’s been a few years since we’ve met.”

“It has indeed been a few years, Miss Merton.”

“I imagine my father has asked you to ask me to dance?”

“I would be most delighted to ask you to dance.” He offered his hand, hoping that she would accept. That would be one woman down, seven to go, and he could ply her with his charm and see if he could learn about her friend. At least, he hoped they were friends. He had to find someone who knew who the little thief was.

“Yes, of course.” She gave her father an amused but doting look. No doubt her patience was being taxed as her father attempted to match his daughter to someone tonight, but she handled it with grace and humor rather than frustration.

She placed her hand in Rafe’s, and he led her back onto the dance floor. The dance was a lively one, which meant he had limited opportunities to get close enough to speak with her.

“Thank you for indulging my father,” she said as they twirled around each other, their hands clasped.

“It’s my pleasure,” he replied. She was a delightful dancer, he had to admit.

“I understand this is not your usual scene, Mr. Lennox,” she said when next they came back to each other.

“You are quite right. Just as you are indulging your father, I am doing so for my brother.”

“Ah, so he wishes to marry you off as well,” she chuckled. “It is a great pity we do not suit.”

Rafe’s eyebrow rose. “You do not even pretend you find me the most handsome and eligible bachelor in this room?” he asked, half-offended, half-teasing.

She giggled. “Handsome, most certainly, but rakes are never eligible. Any woman who assumes that has wool for brains.”

“How right you are. I am most in love with my freedom,” he agreed, happy to be on such honest terms with a woman.

“As am I,” she replied.

Rafe was stunned. “You truly have no desire to marry?”

She shrugged, her gesture effortlessly elegant. “I am content as I am. Should a gentleman come along who suits me, then perhaps I shall marry. But I have no aching loneliness, nor must I bend to any demand of familial duty to marry. My brother will inherit my father’s estate, and he and I are good friends, not just siblings. Between my father’s trust left for me and my brother, I will be well taken care of. With that weight removed, I am free to do as I wish.”

Rafe pushed down the sudden flare of envy. What must it be like to have a brother who would support his sibling like that? Shoving that melancholic thought aside, he reminded himself he was pursuing the identity of his little thief. He could have her in his bed again, and his money back, if he was clever about it.

It all came down to what nature she truly possessed. Was she an innocent young creature who’d taken advantage of a situation? Or was she far more inventive and scheming than he ever could have realized? He was drawn to both versions of her, even as mad as it sounded. She fascinated him completely, and he had to know which one of those versions she truly was.

He returned his focus to the woman before him. “Miss Merton...”

“Rachel,” she corrected with a chuckle. “We’ve known each other long enough as neighbors not to be so formal.”

“Rachel, then. I saw a young lady this evening and was told that you might be acquainted with her?”

“Indeed? Has someone caught your eye, then, oh heartless rake?”

“It appears so,” Rafe admitted, feeling that such an admission might win Rachel’s assistance now that he knew she had not set her cap for him herself. “That woman there... the one in the dark-blue gown with silver netting.” He nodded toward his little thief, who was still speaking with Ashton and Rosalind. The color had returned to the young woman’s face, and she seemed more relaxed now.

“Who? Di?”

“Di?” he echoed.

Rachel corrected herself with a blush. “Diana Fox. She lives on the lands just past ours. Have you not visited Foxglove Hall?”

He had heard the name mentioned before, but he could not recall exactly in what context. This area of England had never been his home, his land, or his people—at least that was the way he’d felt since his father died. That was Ashton’s privilege as the eldest son. Rafe had pushed away any desire to know the people who lived here. He didn’t want to lose more friends when he eventually had to leave Ashton’s home and support himself and his daughter. He wasn’t sure when that day would come, but he couldn’t imagine Ashton letting him live there forever.

“She lives on the estate just south of you?” he asked.

“Yes.” Rachel’s keen eyes shone. “What interest do you really have in my dearest friend?”

He heard the warning in her tone and knew he must tread carefully. He smiled at Rachel, being sure to make it one of his more charming ones.

“Curiosity, nothing more.”

“Hmmm... a rake’s curiosity often has dire consequences for the ladies who catch his eye. Let me offer you some advice, Mr. Lennox. Diana is not one to meddle with. She has things in her life that need her attention, and a man wishing to lure her to his bed for sport would be very foolish. She also has friends who would see such a man punished.”

“Friends such as yourself?” Rafe asked. Perhaps it was the steel in Rachel’s gaze or the ice in her voice, but he found himself taking the woman’s warning seriously.

“Yes. Friends who would challenge you to a duel or have you driven out of England without a second thought.”

Rafe quite believed Rachel would do exactly that. “She is fortunate to have you as a friend,” Rafe said quietly, and he meant it. It was clear Rachel was a warrior in skirts.

Rachel softened a little at the compliment. “No, I am the fortunate one. Diana is one of the purest souls I’ve ever come across. She would do anything for those she loves, and she has suffered so much loss.”

His chest tightened. “What has she lost?” He knew she had no one intimate in her life, no husband, no lover. He’d felt so clearly the ache within her when he’d been with her, but to learn that it was from loss...

“She lost her mother when she was just fifteen. Her dear sister ran away from home a few years later, and we are all quite sure she must be dead. They were so very close when they were growing up, but it’s been several years since Diana’s had even a letter from her. And last year, Diana’s father passed away. She deserves no more sorrow, Mr. Lennox.” Rachel paused. Her gaze cut straight to the heart of him. “I rather like you. It would be a pity to put a bullet in your heart for hurting my friend.”

The dance ended, and she curtsied to Rafe before she left. His thoughts were churning. His little star was all alone, his Diana , and yes she was his. He’d had her once, and he would have her again and again. Yes, he needed his money back, and damned if he knew what he was going to do about that now that he understood Diana’s situation more clearly. But first, he would have her before he went mad with desire. And when they were both sated so thoroughly from passion that neither of them could leave his bed, he would decide what to do about this woman who held him captive. Because letting her go was no longer an option.

Diana stared up into Tyburn’s face. He smiled warmly at her as he introduced his wife.

His wife.

Dear God, what a silly fool she’d been to think a man who stole money would have any honesty in him. But he’d never pretended to be truthful. He’d even blatantly told her that Tyburn wasn’t his real name. Her chest tightened with sudden panic.

And what was worse? He wasn’t some impoverished man running about the countryside, looking for someone to share his lonely nights with. No... Tyburn was Baron Lennox. The man who’d robbed her coach and stolen her virtue was a powerful lord who had no need for the money that he had taken.

She suddenly felt lightheaded, and Lord Lennox reached out to catch her. She swooned, and he held her up on her feet. But there was no rush of awareness between them when he touched her, no lightning charge filled the air as it had that night when they’d been together.

This... this couldn’t be Tyburn. Whenever he touched her, there was a storm beneath her skin. This man’s voice was a little deeper, a little more gravelly than soft and smooth. And he was perhaps an inch taller... Oh, how foolish she was to make an assumption so quickly on the man’s eyes alone. She took a chance now to study him more closely.

Tyburn’s hair had been shorter, and he’d had no beard. Lord Lennox looked more like a wild Viking, complete with a golden beard. A man couldn’t grow his hair out that long in just three weeks. It must be the man’s eyes that had convinced her she was seeing what she’d longed to see for the last month. She’d been searching for any hint of Tyburn whenever she met a man upon the road or when she went to the village with Mrs. Ripley. But he had to be long gone, likely fearing she would have told the authorities where his hideaway was. But still, she looked in vain for any sign of him. Such was the depth of her foolish longing.

Several men she’d met this evening had blue eyes that were vaguely reminiscent of Tyburn’s. Lennox’s eyes were so bright, so intense, so like Tyburn’s. But now she was certain it was not him. This man’s eyes were full of interest and intelligence, but they lacked that aching longing to share himself with someone that had so called to her heart that night.

I am seeing ghosts of him in everyone, and I must stop.

“Are you all right, Miss Fox?” Lennox still held her tenderly, gently, but without the intimacy that would have told her this was the man who’d changed her life forever.

“I’m terribly sorry, my lord. I’m afraid I did not eat enough before I came and?—”

“Then I insist you let my husband fetch you some refreshment,” Lady Lennox said. “Ash, please bring us some punch, along with anything small and easy to eat.”

“Of course. I shall return in a moment.” Lennox bowed and departed.

As Diana recovered herself, Lady Lennox linked her arm with Diana’s.

“You certainly suffered a severe shock at the sight of my husband. Dare I ask if there is a reason he should frighten you so?”

“Frighten? No, as I said, I did not...” The words died on her lips. Lady Lennox had clearly seen something in her reaction that her husband had not. “He simply reminded me of someone.” She allowed Lady Lennox to escort her away from the edge of the dance floor to a secluded alcove a safe distance from the boisterous dancers.

So this was the woman who Rachel believed could be her salvation. Rosalind Lennox had lovely, delicate features, yet she was also undeniably a formidable force. That garnered Diana’s respect instantly. This was no wilting flower. This was a hardy woman who’d survived much.

“Rachel Merton mentioned that you were anxious to meet me?”

And the lady got directly to the point. Diana also appreciated that.

“Yes, I was hoping you might be willing to speak to me about some investment opportunities?”

Lady Lennox chuckled. “So she told you I was a banker, did she?”

“She did,” Diana admitted. “I hope I’ve not caused offense, Lady Lennox.”

“Not at all,” Lady Lennox replied. “Please call me Rosalind. We are neighbors, after all, or so I hear.”

“We are. I must apologize for not introducing myself sooner when I learned Lord Lennox had married.” Diana drew in a breath. “I run my family’s estate alone.”

“Alone?”

“Yes, my parents are dead and I am unmarried. I’ve been kept busy managing the estate that they left to me as my inheritance, and my mourning for my father only ended a few months ago.”

Rosalind squeezed her arm. “Miss Fox, you need never apologize for such things. Grief can take such a toll, especially when one is left to bear the burden alone.”

“Please, call me Diana,” she said. “I would very much like to count you as a friend.”

Rosalind smiled, making her gray eyes sparkle. “Friends, certainly. Now tell me, what makes you need a woman banker?”

Diana was in the middle of explaining her dire financial situation when Lord Lennox returned and provided her with two cucumber sandwiches and a glass of punch.

“Eat those and I shall relay what you have told me to my husband.”

“Oh, you need not burden him with?—”

“Nonsense,” Lord Lennox said. “I take any burden my wife desires me to share.” He gave his wife such a lingering, deeply affectionate look that Diana’s chest ached with a longing to have the same.

She ate the sandwiches quickly and prayed she would not get hiccups after she rapidly downed her punch.

When Rosalind had finished, Lord Lennox said, “How much debt are you currently in?”

“At the moment, none. I was able to clear my father’s debts by selling everything I have of value aside from the land and the house.” It wasn’t a lie, if one didn’t mind half-truths.

“And what about your estate’s current needs? Do you have a way to handle those upcoming costs? What of the tenant farmers?” Rosalind asked.

“I have some plans, something that will take time, but I believe I will start coming into some money, which I would hope to invest at once. As for the farmers, I have been taking nominal rents because much of the cottages and equipment need to be repaired. The tenants have been handling the expenses for such things on their own. I am doing everything within my power not to have to sell my land or my house.”

“I understand, Miss Fox. Dare we ask how you will be acquiring these funds?” Lennox’s eyes narrowed slightly as he sensed she was withholding something.

“It’s rather embarrassing and I would rather not say.” Diana swallowed the lump in her throat. How was it that asking for help felt infinitely harder than robbing coaches?

“Ash, please do not press her for such details.” Rosalind gave her husband a stern look. “I will be handling her investments, and I am choosing not to ask. Sometimes a woman does things she must in order to survive, and how she does it is her own affair.”

The harshness of Lennox’s features faded. “Very well, my heart. You shall do as you see fit.” He winked at Diana, the expression teasing. She’d always thought the man so cold, at least from what she could remember of her few meetings with him in the past. He’d always been focused on business, but now his intensity was softened. Or rather, it had changed to an emotional intensity. It was a very pleasant change. Had she really thought this man to be Tyburn? It was silly now to think of her initial mistake, but in truth, she had no idea what Tyburn looked like. Only his eyes were fixed in her memory, his eyes and the way he spoke with that soft Scottish brogue. She couldn’t imagine Lord Lennox ever donning a mask and changing his accent.

“Thank you, Rosalind, truly. And thank you, Lord Lennox, for the refreshments. It helped immensely.” The punch and sandwiches had steadied her a bit. She had not been lying about not eating earlier. She’d avoided breakfast and lunch in order to make sure she could still fit into a gown that she hadn’t worn in three years.

“Ashton, if you please,” he said. “If you are on such intimate terms with my wife, then I must insist you include me.”

Diana nodded. Even though Lord Lennox was only a baron within the peerage, he was by his nature and influence, financial and otherwise, one of the most powerful men in all of England. Even King George himself had been rumored to cower whenever this man entered the same room.

“I was sorry to hear about your father,” Ashton said. “I apologize for not coming to your home myself and seeing to your welfare.”

“Your mother and Joanna came to see me.” Diana’s face heated. She was not used to this kind of interest in her well-being, perhaps because she was so often alone these days. Other than visits from Rachel, she was quite a recluse. Except for her servants, she was out of touch with society. “They were so very kind.” They had brought food and flowers and had stayed with her while she’d wept. She had never felt they wished to be elsewhere in that moment, which many people often do when they are present in times of grief.

“I am glad they came to see you. I know that the Merton lands separate us, but please know that you are welcome at our home at any time.” Lennox’s words were spoken with such clear honesty that Diana did not doubt that he truly meant them.

“Perhaps you would like to come for tea tomorrow afternoon?” said Rosalind. “We can discuss the particulars of your first investment.”

“I would like that. I have some money ready to invest.”

Rosalind nodded. “Wonderful. It was lovely to meet you, Diana.” She turned to her husband and tilted her face up at him. “And you owe me a dance.”

“Indeed I do.” He bowed his head to Diana and whisked his wife onto the dance floor.

Diana sagged in relief. She’d accomplished what she’d come to do. There was nothing else here for her tonight. It was time to go home.