What a Reckless Rogue Needs Part 43

"He's twenty-one now," Bell said, "and six feet three inches tall."

"What are you feeding him?" Harry said.

Bell laughed. "A great deal of beef."

Harry signaled the waiter to bring brandies. When they arrived, he looked at Bell. "I can't believe you're letting the sprig drink brandy."

"He's of age and knows his limits. I wouldn't have met his mother if not for that flask of brandy Justin hid very poorly," Bell said.

Justin laughed. "It wasn't my brightest idea, Father."

"Fortunately, you're past sowing wild oats." Bell narrowed his eyes. "Correct?"

Justin's smile slanted to one side. "Am I supposed to answer that?"

Everyone laughed.

Three years ago, Bellingham had sworn to be a lifelong bachelor, but he'd fallen hard for Laura Davenport. All of them had been fond of the recalcitrant lad, but he was a grown man now. The devil, how had time flown by so quickly?

After the waiter brought the brandies, Harry sipped his and regarded Colin over his gla.s.s. "What news do you have?"

Colin's expression turned a bit abashed. "I will be a father by late summer."

"Congratulations," Harry said. d.a.m.n, his friends had become domesticated. He'd never thought he'd see the day. When he signaled the waiter again, Harry ordered beefsteak, potatoes, and cheesecake for his friends.

"Harry, do you still keep rooms at the Albany?" Colin asked.

"Yes, I still have my old rooms." He'd found them rather comforting. After all of the events that had sent his world spinning, he appreciated the familiarity, including the shabby furnishings.

"What have I missed while I was gone?" Harry asked.

Bell shrugged. "Pembroke lost more hair. Old Lord Leighton is in love with the widowed Lady Atherton, but she swears she prefers her sherry to him." He paused. "I almost forgot. Justin's former friend George wrecked the second curricle his father unwisely purchased for him."

Harry laughed and shook his head. "Some things never change, I suppose."

"My family is growing," Bell said. "Stephen is three now, and we have an infant daughter, Sarah."

Bell had changed a great deal. When they had first met, he'd been rather guarded. Over the course of one season, he'd become an indispensable friend to both Harry and Colin. Bellingham was definitely the sort of fellow one could count on.

When the waiters brought the food, Harry's stomach growled at the scent of the sizzling beefsteak. He'd not even realized he was famished, but then, he hadn't eaten well lately. Now that he was relaxing with friends, he wolfed down the beef, potatoes, and cheesecake.

After the waiter brought the coffee, Justin rose. "Please excuse me. Paul just arrived, and I'm planning to trounce him at the billiards table."

"Go on, then," Bell said. "Hail a hackney and don't make a lot of racket when you come home. You do not want to face your mother's wrath."

When Justin retreated, Harry said, "You've certainly tamed his rebelliousness. Well done."

Bell set his coffee aside. "He only needed guidance. I suppose we'll keep him after all."

"What about your family, Harry?" Bell asked.

He shrugged. "My girl cousins haven't changed much, but my mother threatens daily to introduce me to the latest beauty on the marriage mart."

Bell and Colin exchanged amused glances.

"What?" Harry said suspiciously.

"If you decide to get a lag shackle, we could form the old married men's club," Bell said.

"Ha-ha," Harry said, setting his cup aside.

"That reminds me," Bell said. "Laura invited you to dinner in a sennight."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Let me guess. I will be seated next to a lovely lady that your countess has chosen just for me."

Bell's shoulders shook with laughter. "Laura will be heartbroken if you do not attend, but don't feel the least bit obligated."

Harry snorted. "I just remembered a pressing engagement."

"How are you holding up?" Colin said.

He'd known Colin since they were boys at Eton. "Well enough, I suppose."

"Your uncle was an exceptional man," Colin said. "I have fond memories of spending summers with you at his farm."

"After his funeral, I kept expecting him to walk into the room," Harry said. "He was like a father to me."

"The good principles he taught you will live on inside you," Bell said, touching his fist to his chest.

It helped to talk about his uncle with his friends.

After they finished their coffee, Bell turned to Harry. "When I came home from the Continent all those years ago, I found the estate business rather overwhelming. Your uncle's steward and secretary are competent?"

"They are, but I'm not."

"You'll manage, but if you need advice or a.s.sistance, do not hesitate to contact me," Bell said. "All the same, I have the greatest confidence in you."

"I appreciate the offer," Harry said.

Bell retrieved his watch. "Ah, d.a.m.n, it's getting late. I promised Laura I would return before midnight."

"I must go as well," Colin said. "My wife and I have an early appointment with an architect. Pity me. Angeline is determined to tear down half the town house I just bought."

Harry laughed, but truthfully, he was a bit disappointed. In the old days, they would smoke cheroots and drink well past midnight. The differences between himself and his married friends weighed heavily on his mind. He enjoyed their company, but his friends' priorities had shifted to their families. Nothing would ever be quite the same again.

Harry followed his friends downstairs, where they all donned their outerwear and walked out of the club. His breath frosted and the cold air chafed his cheeks as he shook hands with his friends.

"Can I give you a lift?" Bell said.

"No, it's only a few blocks," Harry said. "The streetlamps are lighted and a walk will clear my head."

The misty fog swirled around him, but it wasn't too dense tonight. Soon he must buy a carriage. He'd need one for inclement weather, and now that he was a b.l.o.o.d.y duke, he supposed he ought to have a decent vehicle for traveling. G.o.d knew he'd inherited an enormous fortune and could afford whatever caught his fancy. He'd always thought money would bring him happiness, but it hadn't. Perhaps in time he would feel differently.

He was only a block away from the Albany when he saw a thief tugging on a woman's basket. When she screamed, Harry ran as fast as he could and shouted, "Stop, thief!" The ragged man took one look at him and ducked down an alley.

"Are you hurt?" Harry said as he reached the woman. Lord, his heart was hammering in his chest.

"No, but I thank you, kind sir," she said, picking up the half loaf of bread and dusting it off.

He couldn't help noticing her shabby glove as she set the bread beneath a cloth in her basket. Yet she spoke in a crisp, educated manner. The hood of her threadbare cloak fell back as she straightened her small frame. The lighted oil lamp nearby revealed thick, red curls by her ears. She had the kind of hair that made a man want to take it down, but that only reminded him of her peril. "You ought not to be on the streets alone at night," he said. "It's dangerous for a woman."

She pulled her hood up and scoffed. "Sir, I a.s.sure you, I would not set foot on these mean streets if I had any other choice."

The woman's plump lips and bright emerald eyes drew his attention. She was a rare beauty. "If you will allow it, I will escort you for your safety," he said, smiling. "Surely you will not object to protection."

Her eyes narrowed. "You've done your good deed for the evening, Sir Galahad." She reached in her basket and brandished a wicked-looking knife. "My trusty blade is protection enough."

Holy h.e.l.l. The fine hairs on his neck stiffened and every muscle in his body tightened.

She looked him over and shook her head. "Perhaps I should escort you for your safety."

He laughed. "That's rich."

"Evidently, so are you."

She'd obviously taken stock of his clothing and deduced he was wealthy. "Come now, I'm a man and far stronger than you. I can defend myself."

She angled her head. "Have a care, sir. I quickly deduced you have a full purse inside your inner breast pocket. And if I can surmise that this quickly, you can be sure ruffians can, too."

"You heard the coins jingling while I ran."

She looked him over. "I wager those boots were made at Hoby's. They're worth a fortune. So is all of your clothing. At the very least, you ought to carry one of those canes with a hidden blade. Not everyone is as merciful as I am."

"You believe I am in danger?" How the devil had this conversation taken such a bizarre turn?

She regarded him with a world of knowledge in her eyes. "Tonight, Sir Galahad, you are far more vulnerable than I am."

Stunned into silence, he watched her disappear into the wispy fog. Then he reached inside another inner pocket and took out the penknife. A second, longer blade, far more wicked, folded out at the opposite end. He'd kept it hidden because he hadn't wanted to frighten her. So much for gallantry, he thought wryly. He pulled up the collar of his coat to ward off the chill and continued on his way home, her impertinent green eyes haunting him the entire walk. And d.a.m.ned if they didn't coax a smile out of him.

The next afternoon Lucy Longmore found the address of Lady Blenborough, who lived in an elegant house situated near Green Park and not far from White's Club. At least she would feel relatively safe in this neighborhood. Well, from everyone except her disgusting employer, Mr. Buckley, the dancing master. As much as she despised him, she needed the employment. Lucy was Buckley's a.s.sistant, although she often did all of the teaching while Buckley tried to charm his lady clients. At least she had found a job using her dancing skills. It provided her with some income, though not nearly enough. She'd taken to sweeping floors at a dressmaker's shop in the evenings, and that was the reason she'd been walking late last night. Of course, she was taking risks, but as she'd told the handsome stranger, she wouldn't do it if she had another choice.

Last night, however, she'd had trouble sleeping after her encounter with the handsome gentleman. She felt a twinge of guilt for having brandished her knife after he'd helped her, but he was a stranger, and she had to protect herself. There was no one else to look after her grandmama.

If only she could get a letter of character, she knew she could find a better situation at one of the schools for girls or perhaps even a position as a companion to an elderly lady. Unfortunately, even if she could procure the necessary character letter, she feared it would be difficult to persuade someone to allow her blind grandmother to come along with her. But she'd made it this far using her wits, and she refused to give up hope. She always kept her eyes open for any new opportunities, and she had more than a little talent as a dance instructor.

Lucy went round to the servant's entrance, and the kindly cook gave her a cup of tea and a roll. Lucy ate half the roll and stored the rest in her ap.r.o.n pocket for later. When Buckley peered inside the kitchen, he scowled. "I'll dock your pay for fraternizing with the servants."

She had learned the art of making her expression as blank as possible. It was her only defense against her horrid employer. When she followed Buckley to the drawing room, Lucy saw a plump girl who looked to be about twelve. A lady wearing a fine morning gown sat in a chair with a bored expression.

"Lucy, show Prudence the steps," Buckley said. "Lady Blenborough, do not despair. Soon Lady Prudence will be performing the dance steps with elegance and lightness."

Lucy noted Lady Blenborough roll her eyes and unfurl her fan. "Please get on with the lesson," she said curtly.

"Lucy," Buckley said, clapping his hands. "Do not dally."

She turned her attention to Prudence. "Watch me the first time," Lucy said. "This is the cha.s.se step. Right foot forward takes the weight; the following foot closes behind." Lucy regarded the girl. "Now you may try."

Prudence just stood there and chewed on her thumbnail, until her mother, Lady Blenborough, spoke sharply. "Prudence, attend."

The sharp command startled Prudence. She tried, but when she closed the back foot, she landed heavily with a thump on the floor.

Lucy knew how important it was for Prudence to learn the steps. One simply could not get on well in society without learning to dance gracefully. Years ago, when her mother was still alive and life was easier, Lucy had danced at many a country a.s.sembly. Moving her limbs lightly through the steps made her feel temporarily carefree. Most of all, dancing brought back happy memories of her mother teaching her and other children in the neighborhood how to dance.

"Once more," Lucy said. "I know you can do it, Prudence. Watch and imitate."

Twice Prudence landed heavily and looked at her feet with a miserable expression.

"Imagine you are as light as a bird," Lucy whispered to her. "Cha.s.se close."

Prudence hopped onto her right foot, wobbled, and fell on her bottom.

Lucy hurried to help the girl rise. The stains on Prudence's cheeks bespoke humiliation.

"Mr. Buckley, I fear my daughter is hopeless," Lady Blenborough said in a disgusted tone she didn't bother to hide.

"Not at all, Lady Blenborough," Buckley said, his voice oily in his attempts to soothe. "Here, allow me to demonstrate with my a.s.sistant. "Lucy," he said, snapping his fingers.

She knew what was coming and braced herself. He stood behind her and his foul breath on her neck made her want to shiver. When he attempted to move closer, she knew he would try to touch her. She pretended to misunderstand and performed the steps. Cha.s.se close, cha.s.se close, cha.s.se close. Lucy ended with a graceful plie.

"Prudence," Lady Blenborough said, "try again."

The girl had wandered over to the sideboard and her mother's voice startled her again. Guilt was written all over her face as she held her hands behind her back.

Lady Blenborough rose. Her eyes narrowed as she yanked her daughter's hand forward. Sweetmeats scattered all over the floor.

"If you wish to make a pig of yourself, Prudence, then do so. I wash my hands of you," Lady Blenborough said.

Lucy winced as tears spilled down Prudence's face.

"My lady," Buckley said. "Do not despair. I am sure we will make a dancer of Prudence yet."

"I'm done with her dance lessons," Lady Blenborough said. "She is nothing but an embarra.s.sment to me."

Lucy bit her lip. She wished she could help Prudence. With patience, the girl could learn to execute the steps, but her mother obviously had taken a disgust of her daughter. With a sigh, Lucy could not help thinking of her own sweet mother's patience with all of her dance students and wished she were still alive.

The dancing lesson ended, and Lucy looked past Buckley's shoulder when he took her by the upper arm. "I'm docking your pay. See that you do not consort with the servants again," he hissed. Then he handed over half the coins that were due her. Lucy held in the anger threatening to boil over and bobbed a curtsy. Then she hurried out of the servant's entrance. It wasn't the first time he'd found an excuse to reduce her pay, but it still infuriated her.

She must find other employment. Starting today, she would find a better job. There was much she didn't have, but she was smart and educated. All she needed was one person to give her a chance. Lucy was determined to make a better life for herself and her grandmama. If there was a way, she would find it.