Angel Rogue

Chapter 28

Desdemona entered her sunny parlor, reveling in the pleasure of being in her own home again. Everything seemed so normal that she could almost believe the last mad weeks had been imagination, the result of too much lobster or too many political dinners.

At the sound of a carriage stopping outside, she peered out the window, then smiled. There was nothing imaginary about the broad athletic figure of the Marquess of Wolverton, who was now mounting the steps. He had said he would call this morning at the unfashionable hour of eleven, and the clock was chiming as he knocked. Desdemona liked a man who could be relied upon. As she waited for him to be shown in, she rang for coffee.

After greetings had been exchanged and coffee poured, Giles said, "My brother is in London. In fact, I missed him this morning at the bank by only a few minutes."

"Splendid! Did they have any notion where he was staying?"

"Unfortunately not, but at least we know now that he has arrived in London and that he's not trying to avoid detection. I should locate him in the next day or two, and surely he will know where your niece is."

She was about to reply when her parlor maid entered and bobbed a curtsy. "Excuse me, my lady, but Miss Maxima Collins and Lord Robert Andreville are here to see you." She sniffed disapprovingly. "Neither of 'em have proper calling cards."

Desdemona's jaw dropped. Rallying, she said, "Show them in anyhow, Alice."

A minute later, the object of her long pursuit walked calmly into the parlor.

Desdemona had been told that her niece was small, dark, and attractive, but that description did not do justice to the reality. The ebony haired young lady who entered was petite and self possessed, with a face as striking as her perfectly proportioned figure. Though her muslin dress was demure, nothing would make Maxima Collins seem like a butter wouldn't melt in her mouth miss. She did not look like someone who would be easily victimized by life.

Maxima studied her tall and titianhaired aunt, apparently equally surprised. Desdemona thought with amusement that they must look like two cats touching inquiring noses.

Maxima said, "I hope you'll forgive this unannounced intrusion, Aunt Desdemona." She indicated her companion. "This is my friend Lord Robert Andreville. Robin, Lady Ross."

Desdemona spared a glance for her niece's escort, then another which bordered on a rude stare. The golden Lord Robert looked like a gentleman, not a rogue, and he was handsome enough to turn any female's head. No wonder the girl had run off with him.

He bowed gracefully to his hostess. "Your servant, Lady Ross." Then he straightened with a smile that would have given palpitations to a more susceptible female.

Not being susceptible, at least not at the moment, Desdemona favored him with a darkling look and a brief nod of acknowledgment. To her niece, she said, "My dear girl, I'm so glad to finally meet you. I've been concerned for your safety."

"Whatever for?" Maxima asked, her eyes wide and innocent.

Desdemona heard the marquess chuckling. From the corner of her eye, she saw that he was enjoying the situation hugely.

Lord Robert hadn't noticed his brother's presence, but at the sound of laughter he glanced across the room. "Giles! This is a coincidence. I didn't know you were planning to visit London this spring, or that you knew Lady Ross."

"I didn't know the lady, and I wasn't planning a trip," Wolverton replied. "You're responsible for both conditions."

"Indeed?"

"Lady Ross and I have been haring across England for the last fortnight, separately and together, trying to find you two," the marquess explained. "And now you walk in, bland as butter, as if paying morning calls on an elderly aunt."

"Aunt Desdemona is not elderly," Maxima pointed out,

"Thank you," the unelderly aunt muttered, feeling that the situation was rapidly getting out of control. Though to be fair, it had never been under control in the first place.

"I was speaking metaphorically." Giles glanced at Desdemona with a fond smile. "I have, in fact, noticed that she is not elderly. Miss Collins, since confusion seems the order of the day, let me introduce myself. I'm Wolverton, elder brother of your scapegrace escort."

"Ah, yes," she said thoughtfully, "the one whom, if he died, which God forbid, would cause Robin to be instantly ennobled."

Wolverton blinked as he sorted that out, then nodded. "Exactly so."

"I think we should all sit down and have some coffee," Desdemona said in a voice of heroic restraint, ringing the bell for more cups and another pot.

Maxima sat opposite her aunt. "Why were you worried about me, Aunt Desdemona? Did Uncle Cletus write you?"

"I arrived at Chanleigh shortly after you decamped. Under questioning, Cletus and Althea admitted that you had left unexpectedly and probably had little money. I deduced that if you were coming to London, it must be the hard way."

Another tray arrived, and Desdemona poured coffee for the new arrivals. She continued, "A lone young female, attempting to walk hundreds of miles across a strange country filled with rogues and robbers and Lord knows what-of course I was worried. So I decided to come after you."

"That was very good of you, but you needn't have been concerned." Maxima's wide brown eyes showed mild surprise that anyone could have been anxious. "It was a pleasant, interesting journey, and nothing of note happened."

A choking sound came from Lord Robert. Maxima abandoned mildness to direct a dagger look at him. Her escort assumed a look of unreliable innocence, then glanced at his older brother. "How did you become involved, Giles?"

"Lady Ross was told that her niece had been forcibly abducted by my womanizing brother," was the succinct reply.

Lord Robert's brows arched. "Really, Giles, womanizing? What did I do in my blameless months in Yorkshire to deserve that?"

"It's what the villagers told me," Desdemona said stiffly. "So I went to Wolverhampton to make inquiries."

"Lady Ross fails to do the occasion justice," the marquess said cheerfully. "In fact, she swept into my library like an avenging fury, slammed her parasol across my desk, accused and convicted you in absentia of all manner of crimes and moral turpitude, threatened you with the full might and majesty of the law, then swept out again."

Turning a fiery red under the interested gazes of her niece and Lord Robert, Desdemona scowled at the marquess. She had been rather intemperate that day, and it was most ungentlemanly of him to mention it.

"Womanizing and moral turpitude?" Lord Robert gave his hostess a sympathetic look. "Having heard that, of course you had no choice but to try to rescue your hapless niece from me."

His statement elicited an eloquent sniff from Maxima. "Your fears were understandable, but quite misplaced, Aunt. In fact, Lord Robert insisted on accompanying me solely out of concern for my safety." A note of exasperation entered her soft, wellbred voice. "Like you, he assumed that I was a helpless incompetent who would never survive the trip."

Lord Robert gave her a smile of obvious affection. "That misapprehension didn't last long, Maxie."

"Maxie?" Desdemona repeated. "What a vulgar nickname."

Her niece bristled. "It is what my father called me, Aunt Desdemona, and it is what I prefer."

"Your father called me Dizzy, and I didn't much like that, either," Desdemona said dryly.

"Dizzy?" Wolverton said with interest.

Ignoring him, Desdemona went on, "But if you prefer to be called Maxie, I shall try to become accustomed." She surveyed her niece's small, composed figure. "Perhaps you should stop calling me aunt. There are only a few years between us, and I don't seem to have done a very good job of aunting. Perhaps it is better if we simply try to become friends."

Maxie gave a shy smile. "I would like that very much."

Desdemona sipped more coffee, then sighed. "This is an awkward topic, and probably an auntly one, but I cannot help but be concerned for your reputation." She glanced at Lord Robert. "Doubtless things are somewhat different in America, but surely you are aware of the English proprieties?" The lift at the end of her sentence was accompanied by a pious hope that she would not have to become more specific.

"If you mean what I think you mean," Maxie said in a tone whose frostiness would have done credit to a patroness of Almack's, "I assure you that Lord Robert has behaved as a perfect gentleman." The effect was spoiled when she added something under her breath that sounded like, "I was the one who didn't."

Desdemona stared at her niece, sure that she had misheard. Giles, who was closer to the girl, suddenly had a fit of coughing that sounded like a doomed attempt to stifle hilarity.

Deciding that abandoning the topic was the better part of wisdom, Desdemona asked, "Where are you staying? I would be delighted to have you here."

"That is very kind of you, but we are staying at Candover House. The duke and duchess have been most hospitable."

The marquess straightened, startled. "You're staying with Candover and his wife?"

"Yes." It was Lord Robert who answered, a hint of challenge in his voice. "And why not?"

"Why not indeed?" Giles murmured.

Desdemona wondered what that was about. She would make Giles explain later when they were private Turning back to her niece, she asked, "Did you leave Chanleigh so suddenly because Althea was plaguing you? She never could abide anyone disagreeing with her."

Her niece hesitated, weighing her answer. "That was part of the reason," she said finally. "I also wanted to meet you before returning to America."

"You're leaving England?" It was a possibility that had never occurred to Desdemona, though it should have.

An opaque look came into the girl's rich brown eyes. "My plans are somewhat uncertain."

In a way, the news that Maxie might go back to America was welcome. Any indiscretions that had occurred would not have scandalous repercussions. Then again, Desdemona thought with a return to gloom, nature being what it was, perhaps there would be other kinds of repercussions.

Maxie set her coffee aside and leaned forward, her hands clasped tensely in her lap. "Please, Desdemona, if you don't mind, could… could you tell me about the times you saw Max before he died?"

Looking at her niece's earnest face, Desdemona guessed the true reason the girl had come to London. Max had been devoted to his daughter, and obviously the feeling had been mutual. It must be very hard to know that her father had died alone and far away.

"Of course I don't mind talking about him," she said, settling back in the sofa with a nostalgic smile. "It was so good to see Max again. I was just a child when he left for America, but he wrote the most wonderful letters." She grinned. "Incidentally, I have his gold watch for you. It was taken from the body of a dead highwayman."

Her statement caused a lively set of explanations on both sides. After the incident had been discussed, the marquess got to his feet. "You ladies will have a great deal to say to each other. If you like, Robin, you can leave your carriage for Miss Collins, and I'll give you a ride to wherever you want to go."

Robin exchanged a glance with Maxie, who nodded. After a flurry of farewells, the two men left the house and climbed into the Wolverton town carriage.

Giles asked, "Where do you want to go?"

"Whitehall, please. Since I have the afternoon free, I might as well pay a visit to some of my old colleagues." Robin settled in the backwardfacing seat opposite his brother. "It sounds as if Lady Ross led you a merry dance."

"No more so than her niece did you. Since her ladyship was threatening all and sundry Andrevilles, I decided that it behooved me to find you first, in the hopes of heading off scandal or your incarceration." Giles set his hat on the seat beside him. "Did Simmons ever catch up with you?"

Robin's brows rose. "Yes, in Market Harborough. How do you know about him?"

"I gave the fellow a ride near Blyth. He was nursing his injuries and plotting revenge on the 'yallerheaded fancy man' who had jumped him from behind."

"Of course I jumped him from behind. The fellow is twice my size," Robin said with irrefutable logic. "If there is one thing I've learned over the years, it's that 'fighting fairly' is a dangerous luxury."

"I assume he's the fellow Lord Collingwood sent after Miss Collins?"

"Exactly." Robin shrugged. "She didn't want to go."

"Apparently not. Simmons said she held a pistol on him."

"Life in the forests of the New World is rather different from a London drawing room, so she is in the habit of solving problems with a certain directness. In Market Harborough, for example, she had to be restrained from sliding a knife between Simmons's ribs," Robin explained. "When we first met, I had difficulty persuading her to accept my escort because she thought I looked useless."

"She's hardly the first to make that mistake." The marquess smiled reminiscently. "Miss Collins is not at all what I expected. On the overwrought occasion when I met Lady Ross, I countered her charge that you were a vile seducer with the suggestion that she and her niece were deliberately plotting to entrap you."

Robin laughed. "No one who knows Maxie could think such a thing. There isn't a duplicitous bone in her delightful body. Full frontal assault in broad daylight is her style, not sneak attack." He gave his brother a slanting glance. "I've asked Maxie to marry me. Will you have any objections if she agrees?"

Giles raised his brows. "Would it matter if I did? You're both of age."

"If you mean would your disapproval stop me, the answer is no. But I would very much prefer that you welcome her into the family. She has not always been accepted as she deserves." Robin glanced down and made a minute adjustment to his elegantly tailored sleeve. "I thought it was time I settled down."

Giles laughed. "I'm not sure that marriage to a pocketsized hoyden with the courage to cross England on foot, attack a professional bruiser, and dine with a duchess is what I would call 'settling down,' but for what's it's worth, you have my blessing. The two of you should suit very well. Is the lady reluctant?"

"She has her doubts." Robin chuckled. "But I'm using every bit of my fabled charm to persuade her."

As Giles set Robin down outside Whitehall, he uttered a fervent mental prayer that the girl would accept his brother's proposal. It had been obvious as soon as the pair of them had entered Lady Ross's drawing room that Robin had recovered from the blackness of soul that had afflicted him. If it took a dark eyed dazzler with a temper to make Robin laugh again, Giles was more than willing to welcome her as a sister-in-law.