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Authors: Cheryl Holt

Wicked (25 page)

BOOK: Wicked
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Rose stared down at her hands where they were folded in her lap. Her fingers were interlaced, and she was squeezing them together so tightly that her knuckles were white.

“No…ah…I didn’t see him,” she ultimately said.

“Good, so you don’t have to lie about it.” He chuckled. “I’ll lie for both of us.”

“Where is Mr. Talbot?”

“He left for London just before dawn.”

At the news, her heart lurched in her chest, suddenly aching so painfully that she worried it might quit beating.

“He left?”

“There wasn’t any reason for him to stay, was there?”

“Well…”

“Not that I could discern anyway.” Mr. Oswald paused, then said, “And with our situation concluded, it didn’t seem appropriate for him to remain.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll be blunt again, Miss Ralston.”

“Yes, please.”

“You remember the bargain he and I had with regard to you.”

“Your bargain?”

“Yes, that he would help me with my problem. Before he rode off, he confided that he’d taken care of things with you. I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you decided to proceed.”

Rose was shocked again, to her very core. James had revealed their affair to Mr. Oswald? James had admitted to Mr. Oswald that he and Rose had fornicated? He’d divulged the private, personal encounter?

“Mr. Talbot talked to you about me?”

“Yes. He told me all the details.”

“He wouldn’t have,” she breathed.

“He was most concerned about this nonsense with Veronica. He claimed he was very friendly with you now and didn’t want you to have a bad opinion. He wished you’d never find out.”

“Find out?”

“I advised him that I couldn’t keep it from you. The entire mess will cause quite a stir, and Summerfield is a small place. There’s no way I could have prevented you from hearing about it.”

If Mr. Oswald had beaten her with a stick, she couldn’t have felt anymore pummeled. He stared at her—coldly, dispassionately—and she returned his stare, her mind so chaotically confused that she was dizzy with dismay.

She’d assumed she knew and understood James Talbot, but if Mr. Oswald’s tale was accurate, she hadn’t known James at all.

What was true? What wasn’t? How was she supposed to glean the difference?

“Will…ah…Mr. Talbot ever come back to Summerfield?”

“I don’t expect he will,” he killed her by saying. “I had promised him several boons for his assistance with you—mainly some information about his parents—and I’ve given him a substantial amount of money too, as a reward for services rendered. He’ll use it to sail to India.”

“India!”

“It’s for the best, Miss Ralston. You have to realize that it is.”

“Why?”

“If he’d stayed on at Summerfield, it would have made matters between you and myself extremely awkward.”

“Matters between us?” She was too befuddled to concentrate.

“Yes, after we wed and you have the child, I couldn’t have James loitering and interfering. He and I never intended that he’d remain. It was always the plan that he would leave after he finished with you.”

The way Mr. Oswald pronounced the word
finished
was a slap in the face to Rose. She could have been a brood mare out in the stable.

“Well,
my
plan,” Rose forced out, “is that I will depart in another ten days or so. I’m no longer interested in marrying you.”

He scoffed. “Of course you’ll marry me. You can’t be trotting around the countryside, with child and without husband.”

A wave of nausea gurgled in her stomach, and she was afraid she might wretch all over the expensive carpet.

“Would you excuse me?” She pushed herself to her feet.

“I will for now, but we must confer later. Once we’ve determined your condition, we’ll send for a Special License and begin planning the wedding. I have to invite many of the neighbors, but the final guest list will be up to you.”

“Yes, yes…” Rose didn’t mean to agree. She just wanted to escape, to lie down so the world would stop spinning.

As she turned to go, her nausea increased, her dizziness too. She stumbled as if she might faint, and she had to grab onto the chair to keep from falling.

He was around the desk in a flash, and he clasped her elbow to steady her.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“I’m a tad…dizzy.”

He called for a housemaid to escort Rose to her room. Rose was too disoriented to walk on her own, and she clutched the maid’s arm and staggered up the stairs to collapse on her bed. The girl covered her with a blanket, then pulled the drapes to shut out the bright morning sunlight.

He left!
Rose mourned.
He left without a goodbye! I could be having his baby, and he left me here with Mr. Oswald!

Impatiently, she shooed the maid out, and once she was alone, she started to cry.

* * * *

“May I speak with you?”

“Certainly.”

Lucas gestured to Miss Ralston, urging her over.

She’d found him in the music room, dabbling on the harpsichord. It had been an odd day and an even odder evening. There had been no company for supper. He and Stanley had dined in the small parlor, huddled together and discussing Veronica. They were grand conspirators, and as they’d gotten their stories straight, Lucas had been delighted to find that Stanley’s devious brain worked much like Lucas’s.

Trouble had been brewing with Veronica—he’d predicted it—and he regretted that he hadn’t dragged James away when they’d initially quarreled over her. And he’d be eternally grateful to Stanley for saving James from the terrible fate of being Veronica’s husband.

He hadn’t seen Miss Ralston all day, and he wondered what she thought of the drama. Had she been apprised?

He was seated on the bench at the harpsichord, and he ran his fingers over the keys with a flourish.

“Aren’t I remarkable?” He grinned up at her. “My ability to play is my only skill. Please tell me I’m marvelous. I won’t be able to stand it if you don’t.”

“I’m not feeling very well,” was her quiet reply. “Could we not joke and jest?”

At her solemn tone, he noticed she was wretched and pale as a ghost, as if she’d been ill.

“I apologize. I never know when to be serious. Actually, I’m
never
serious. My father would insist it’s my worst flaw.”

She didn’t respond, and he pointed to a nearby sofa.

“You look awful,” he said. “Sit down before you fall down.”

She sidled over and eased herself onto the cushion. He slid from the bench and sat in the chair across. There was a lamp on the table, and it highlighted her face, starkly enhancing her misery.

Was this woe because of James? Had she been that attached? Or was it something else? Had Stanley hurt her? If so, Lucas was hardly the one to fix any problem.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I’ve kept a secret from you.”

“A secret! Then you must spill all, my dear.” She couldn’t begin, and he waved her on. “Go ahead. I’m a good listener.”

She dithered forever, as if her next comment would be extremely difficult to voice. Ultimately, she said, “We have a personal connection I haven’t revealed.”

“What connection?”

“We’re cousins.”

“Cousins?”

“Yes.”

“Through which kin?”

“Your father and my mother were siblings.”

“First cousins? Really?”

“Yes.”

“All this time, and you were silent about it.” He frowned. “You’re sure? You’re not making it up?”

She snorted with disgust. “Trust me, I wouldn’t invent a relationship with you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She shrugged. “The Drake family never claimed me, and in return,
I
haven’t claimed them.”

“But all of a sudden, you’re eager. Why?”

“I need your help.”

He was a treacherous ass and the very last kind of man a woman should rely on for anything, but he was so intrigued by her. She didn’t like him! She didn’t like his family! He couldn’t decide what to think.

“Where have you been all these years?” he inquired, then raised a hand to stop her. “Obviously, you were at Miss Peabody’s school.”

“Yes. When my mother died, I was four. Your grandfather was named my guardian, but he was so angry with my mother that he refused to assist me.”

“You were only four,” he indignantly huffed.

“Yes.”

“Why was he so angry?”

“My mother had sought his permission to marry my father, and when it was denied, they eloped. She was disowned and forgotten.”

“And never forgiven. How typical of the Drakes.”

“I always thought so.”

“Your parents died in Egypt, right? It’s all coming back to me.”

“Yes, we were in Egypt, and some people there—I don’t remember who—contacted your grandfather so he could bring me to Sidwell.”

“But he wouldn’t?”

“He sent me to Miss Peabody instead. After he passed away, your father kept me there.”

“You never visited. You never wrote.”

“Don’t be a dunce, Mr. Drake,” she snapped. “Of course I didn’t write or visit. Your father and grandfather were quite clear. I wasn’t
welcome
at Sidwell.”

“Oh.”

He could certainly understand it. The two men had always been pompous and ridiculous. It was entirely predictable that they would have tormented a little girl.

“I’m sorry.” The apology was inadequate, but he offered it anyway. “We can be friends now, can’t we? We don’t have to labor under their idiotic rules.”

“I hope we
can
be friends. That’s why I asked to speak with you.”

“Would you call me Lucas? It’s ludicrous for us to be so formal.”

“I’d rather not, Mr. Drake.”

“Fine,” he sighed. “Please continue. What do you want of me?”

“I’m alone in the world, and you’re a male family member. I’m begging for your help.”

“With what?” He scowled. “And don’t beg. I hate that sort of heightened sentiment.”

“I have to leave Summerfield.” Tears filled her eyes, making them glitter like diamonds. “Would you take me away from here?”

“To where?”

“London? Or Sidwell Manor? Your father is very wealthy. He must own a dozen houses. Could I stay in one of them? Just until I can figure out what to do.”

“What happened that you can’t stay at Summerfield? Is it James? Is it the fact that he left?”

“I won’t discuss Mr. Talbot.”

“Is it Mr. Oswald then? Has he been awful to you?”

She growled with exasperation. “I simply need to leave, Mr. Drake, and I’m a female cousin in grave distress. Must I furnish a reason beyond that?”

Lucas stared at her, irked by the realization that she viewed him as a possible savior. Which he wasn’t and never had been.

How precisely did she suppose he could aid her?

He couldn’t bring her to Sidwell. He was barely allowed there himself, and with his latest imbroglio with his creditors, he was even more of a pariah. If he waltzed in with her, his father would chase them both out with a broom. The exalted Lord Sidwell was that much of a caustic boor.

As to London, Lucas had no money, no apartment, and no decent companions he could prevail upon to give her shelter. His life had been a long pursuit of decadence, with James being the sole individual who had even the slightest hint of good character.

So…while he wished he could act the role of champion, he hadn’t the means, and it wasn’t in his nature to behave honorably.

“We couldn’t go to Sidwell, and I don’t have my own home, so there’s no place I could provide to you in London.”

“Perhaps you have an acquaintance you could recommend.”

“Not really. Not anyone you should meet anyway. James is the only one who’s the least bit reputable.”

“I see.”

“I’m not even sure I’ll remain in London myself. I’m traveling there tomorrow to find James, and I believe he and I might sail for India.”

“He’s truly considering it?” she murmured.

“Most definitely. We resigned our commissions in the army, but we don’t have any prospects in England. India could be a new start for us.”

She pushed herself to her feet. “Thank you for your time. I appreciate your speaking with me.”

“Rose,” he grumbled, standing too. “Don’t be upset.”

“I’m not upset. I was merely searching for fairy dust.”

“Fairy dust?”

“It’s something that doesn’t exist—just like the aid I’d foolishly thought you might supply.”

“I’m sorry.” Two apologies in a single afternoon!

“Don’t be. I’ve had a long history with the men in your family, Mr. Drake. I’m not surprised by your answer at all.”

He felt vile, like the cad he was, and for once, he was disgusted with himself. He’d never had a woman plead for his assistance before. The females in his world knew what he was like. Nary a one would ever have lowered herself.

“Why don’t you stay at Summerfield?” he said. “Isn’t it still an option for you to marry Mr. Oswald?”

“Yes, Mr. Drake, it’s an option.”

He clasped her hand. She didn’t pull away, but didn’t exhibit a cordial response, either.

“Don’t you have friends of your own who could take you in?” he inquired.

“Only the other teachers from my old school, and they’re going off to wed—as I went off. I hardly think they’d be in a position to impose on their husbands by asking if I could move in.”

“Then isn’t it best to remain here? Mr. Oswald isn’t the greatest person—he can be difficult and annoying—but he’s generous occasionally. He’s willing to have you as his wife, so you’d be mistress of Summerfield. Most women in your situation would deem it a huge blessing to be offered so much.”

“I’m sure they would,” she muttered.

“You’ll realize it too, eventually. You’ll be safe here. You’ll be rich and settled and protected by Mr. Oswald’s name and fortune. At the moment, you’re distraught, but once you calm, you’ll see that I’m right. You’ll see that this is the only viable solution.” He paused, wondering if he’d gotten through, if he’d made his case. “It’s not such a bad choice, is it, Rose?”

“It’s Miss Ralston to you.” She yanked away and stomped out.

* * * *

“Well?”

“My brother called you a liar. He claims it never happened.”

BOOK: Wicked
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