Page 37 of How to Court a Rake
‘Do you think Carys knows all of it? Could he even give up a name beyond Amesbury? I don’t know Carys well,’ his grandfather said, ‘but he’s always struck me as a conservative man, a stickler for propriety and for following the rules, so I am hard pressed to understand why he’d turn against his fellow peers in the Prometheus Club, why he’d sell his daughter in marriage to a man she doesn’t want and why he’d participate in an act that, if known about, many of his countrymen would find unpatriotic. Most folks support the Greek movement in at least theory.’
Caine finished the argument for him. ‘All of that suggests strongly that he did not know the whole of it, which is why he allowed himself to be motivated by personal pride and financial issues; he simply didn’t know there were larger repercussions.’ He paused, a thought occurring to him for the first time. ‘Do you think he even knew about the plot to blow up the ship? Amesbury could have told him an entirely different plan in order to persuade him.’ Caine blew out a breath. ‘I think talking with Carys is becoming a necessity even if he can’t give us all I hope.’
‘I have men in the village. If anyone is coming, we’ll have warning. Make sure Lady Mary stays on the property, the closer to the house the better, and if she does go out further make sure you’re with her,’ Grandfather cautioned. ‘Which obviously isn’t a problem,’ he added slyly.
Caine ignored his grandfather’s barb. ‘I had the archery butts set up for her down by the lake. That will keep her well occupied.’
But Grandfather wasn’t done quite yet. ‘If Carys is any kind of father, he’ll want his daughter home. And Amesbury will want his leverage back. If I were you, I’d be thinking about what you can do to prevent any of that if she truly does not want to go back. I’d also be thinking that Carys may want reparation and it is within his rights to expect you to make an honest woman of his daughter.’
‘Are you suggesting I marry her?’ Caine asked bluntly.
‘You must admit, marriage solves many problems for her. It restores her.’ Grandfather reached into his stack of newspapers. ‘The society pages have not been kind. But I am sure youbothexpected that when you brought her here.’
Caine scanned the page Grandfather had folded back and winced. Expecting it was one thing, seeing it in print was another. It was ghastly. He set it aside. ‘Ihavethought about it, but you know I cannot offer myself in marriage. It is too dangerous for her. I’d be gone on Horsemen work for you and who knows what enemies might seek revenge by threatening her or any family we might have.’
Grandfather made a frown. ‘So you’ve decided? You’ll let the title die with you? That you will spend your life alone?’
‘You disagree with my reasons?’ Caine challenged.
‘I think it would be a waste. I’ve watched you grow up. I’ve watched you build the bonds between your brothers. Not all brotherly relationships are amicable, especially among the peerage. It is more common to see brothers compete against one another. But you made a band of your brothers. You saw to it that your sister’s business affairs were looked after in Italy when her husband died. You saw to it that Creighton came up to scratch for her when the time came. You are a man built for family, Caine. All of you boys are, but you especially.’
‘I don’t think it’s fair to Mary to require she take on the danger of my life.’ It had been bad enough seeing Amesbury’s mark on her. It had stolen his reason for a moment. ‘I couldn’t protect Stepan. What makes me think I could protect a wife? Children?’
‘Fair for her or fair for you?’ Grandfather chuckled. ‘Who are you really protecting with this argument, Caine?’ He pointed to a portrait of Caine’s grandmother on the wall. ‘Your grandmother and I were married fifty-two years. Best fifty-two years of my life. Do you remember what she died of?’
‘Pneumonia,’ Caine said slowly, trying to anticipate the trap his grandfather had laid.
‘That’s right. Natural causes. She wasn’t kidnapped, there were no gunmen hiding behind hedges waiting to waylay the carriage when she went out. All three of my sons lived to adulthood, married and led the lives they chose. None of them were kidnapped, although after some of their pranks, I often wished they might be.’ Grandfather chuckled. ‘Of course, I did take some precautions. There were always outriders with my wife and my children and we were very strict about who came to the house, who the boys met. But any man who loves his family is. One does not throw rubies to swine, after all, spy master or not.’
Caine played with his fork. ‘I’d have to tell her about the Horsemen, tell her what I do. I’d have to tell her about Wapping, all of it.’ It would also require him to tell her about her father. She might hate him for that. She might feel used, betrayed. She might feel that the proposal didn’t come from an honest place, or even worse, that his own feelings hadn’t been true, that he’d put on a show to seduce her to gain access to the Earl and Amesbury.
‘Yes, you will have to tell her all of that. But don’t you think it’s about time?’ Grandfather finished his coffee and rose.
Caine rose with him. ‘I think I’ll take a swim.’ And sort his thoughts. Grandfather had pushed him this morning, but he’d also opened a window of hope. Was it possible to have the life he wanted without giving up the life he had? The answer was that itmightbe. If he was willing to take a chance. He strode through the house and out the back doors to the gardens and to the lake beyond.
At the lake shore, he stripped off his clothes and dived in, letting the water cool his thoughts and settle his mind. He broke through the surface of the water and eyed the island in the distance before striking out for it.
Nothing was ever simple when one was a Horseman. Most men proposed with a single question, but a Horseman had to risk much more than that. A Horseman had to be sure of his bride’s answer before he even asked the question.
Chapter Twenty
Her arrow struck the centre of the butt sure and true with a satisfying thump, the tip sinking dip into the hay target. Mary was certain Caine had ordered the butts set up for her. What she wasn’t sure of was what did it mean? Had it been the act of a thoughtful host? Or dare she read anything more into it? After yesterday, perhaps it was a subtext involving Cupid’s arrow finding its mark?
Deep down, Cainewasa romantic, but he was also a rake. Nights like last night were commonplace for him. Just like carriage rides, or games involving forfeits. He lived a far more decadent and experienced life than she when it came to such things. She was out of her depth here. Boldness without knowledge behind it could only carry one so far.
Mary nocked another arrow on to the bow and sighted the further target. What did it matter if itwasromantic? It would be a short-term affair that ended when she left Sandmore. She let the arrow fly, satisfied with the shot just a hair off centre. She’d not shot since the archery competition at the Harlow house party. That party belonged to a different life, a different person.
She strode towards the butts to collect the arrows. That young woman would not have dreamed of taking a lover, of challenging the rules she’d been brought up to obey. That young woman would not have made love beneath the stars, or left home with no plan, no resources for her next step. She would not have discovered her inner strength, or her own power. Her own identity would have escaped her entirely given time.
She did not despise that young woman. That young woman had her own strength to be sure, a successful debutante didn’t survive without it, but that young woman would have missed so much. It had been worth it. The refrain from last night still echoed today.
The poche at her hip refilled, Mary walked off the paces and scanned the gardens behind her for any sign of Caine. She’d not seen him since he’d laid down beside her in bed—the quiet eroticism of sleeping skin to skin with him was not something she’d soon forget.
He’d been gone when she woke and the breakfast room had been deserted when she’d finally made her way downstairs. She’d been disappointed, but perhaps he was giving her time to be alone to think.
What did one say to someone after they’d spent the night exploring one another’s bodies? Did one talk about it? Or did one say ‘pass the toast, please’ and carry on as if the night had never happened? Was that what Caine was signalling with his absence? It was to be business as usual between them? Although that business had its own murkiness to it. The lines between friends and lovers had been blurred nearly the entirety of their association. Still, Mary felt they ought to talk about last night—would it happen again? What did it mean, if anything?
Mary looked at the sky. The sun of yesterday had been replaced by heavy, cloudy summer skies portending a storm later today. Had Caine gone riding without her? That would be disappointing. She’d have liked to ride with him. Mary prepared to shoot again, a motion at the lake shore catching the corner of her eye. She turned towards the movement and her breath caught at the sight of him: Caine rising from the lake, water sluicing from dark hair, his body slick.
