The Ton's Most Notorious Rake Read online

  Mr Russington and Lord Claydon spent the evening playing piquet while Molly was invited to make a fourth at whist with Mr and Mrs Sykes and Lady Claydon. The others gathered around the piano and took turns at singing duets. Sir Joseph and Mr Flemington flirted with the Misses Claydon. Mr Flemington’s high-pitched giggle was annoying, but since neither his nor Sir Joseph’s attentions were aimed at her, Molly could relax and enjoy herself.

  She felt a slight pang of regret when Edwin went home, but when the party broke up, it was Agnes who accompanied her to her bedchamber and delivered her into the hands of her maid and Molly went happily to bed, thinking that perhaps, after all, she had been too prejudiced against fashionable society. Perhaps it was not all dissipation. At least, not when there were chaperons present. So, she reasoned, staying at Newlands exposed her to no danger at all.

  She allowed her thoughts to wander back to Beau Russington, recalling him at the dinner table. He had been listening to something Edwin was saying, his gaze abstracted and his lean fingers playing with the stem of his wine glass. She remembered those same fingers on her skin, peeling away the silk stocking, and once again she felt the hot ache deep within. She curled into a ball and pulled the bedclothes around her a little tighter.

  For her, the danger was not with society, she realised, but with one man.

  * * *

  By the time Agnes took Molly back to the vicarage the following morning in the barouche, they were firm friends. Molly was not surprised when Edwin came out of the house as the carriage drew up. He opened the door himself, following up his words of greeting by inviting Miss Kilburn to step inside and take a little refreshment.

  ‘Yes, please do, Agnes,’ Molly added her entreaty, knowing that her new friend’s hesitation was from shyness rather than reluctance.

  Edwin beamed when Agnes agreed and he handed her out of the carriage before turning to Molly and insisting that he carry her into the drawing room.

  ‘We do not want to undo all of Miss Kilburn’s good work,’ he said, depositing her on the sofa. ‘Now, Miss Kilburn, perhaps you will sit with Molly and make sure she does not move while I go and ask Mrs Rodgers to bring us some tea!’

  Molly shook her head as he lounged out of the room.

  ‘Really, there is no need for all this fuss,’ she said to Agnes, who smiled.

  ‘Gerald would be just the same, if I were in this situation. You know he was minded to cancel his ride today to escort us here.’

  ‘And we were both adamant that it was not necessary,’ said Molly. ‘We are fortunate to have such caring brothers.’

  ‘Have you always kept house for Mr Frayne?’ Agnes asked her.

  ‘For five years, since he obtained the living here at Compton Parva.’

  Agnes’s eyes widened. ‘You were widowed very young, then.’

  ‘Yes, before I was twenty. And you, Agnes—’ Molly was eager to move the conversation away from that subject ‘—have you always kept house for your brother?’

  ‘Oh, no, I have been living at the family home in Oxfordshire since our father died two years ago.’ She saw Molly’s sudden frown and added quickly, ‘Out of choice. Gerald prefers to live in London, but I do not like the town.’

  ‘I have never been there,’ Molly confessed.

  ‘But you were married very young. I wish I had done so.’ Agnes gave a sad little smile. ‘I was betrothed to a naval officer, a captain, soon after my come-out six years ago. His birth was impeccable and Papa agreed to the engagement, but insisted we wait a little. It was a sensible decision, my fiancé wanted to win a little more prize money with which to set up our own establishment, but it was not to be. He was killed in an action off the French coast.’

  ‘Oh, I am so sorry!’

  Agnes fluttered a hand, as if to ward off Molly’s sympathy. ‘That was four years ago. I am over it now, but I envy you your time with your husband, however short.’

  ‘I pray you will not!’ Molly saw that her vehemence had shocked Agnes and she continued more gently, ‘What I mean is, we were only married for a few months. It was not a happy time.’

  She broke off thankfully when Edwin returned. The conversation became general and remained so until Agnes took her leave an hour later. Edwin accompanied her to the door, and came back beaming.

  ‘What a delightful young lady, is she not, Molly? So kind of her to bring you home herself. Perhaps, once you are better, we should hold a little dinner, invite the Newlands party to come here.’

  Molly’s response was non-committal. Despite her burgeoning friendship with Agnes, and her conviction now that the gentlemen at Newlands were not as dissolute as she had first imagined, she was still wary of forging closer ties with any of them.

  * * *

  Edwin had been adamant that Molly should rest until her ankle was quite recovered and threatened to summon the doctor if she disagreed with him. She therefore rested dutifully on the sofa until the Saturday, when she came down to breakfast dressed in her green walking dress.

  ‘If I spend another moment indoors, I vow I shall scream,’ she told her loving brother when he looked at her in surprise. ‘I am going to visit Fleur and Nancy at Prospect House as soon as I have broken my fast. I shall take the gig and Gibson will be with me. He is quite capable of taking the reins should I go off in a dead faint.’

  Edwin laughed at that. ‘Your constitution is stronger than most, so I do not foresee such an event. No, I am content to have kept you resting for so long. Just remember that we are engaged to dine with the Curricks this evening and do not be late back!’

  * * *

  Fleur and Nancy came running out as the gig pulled up.

  ‘There is no need for that,’ Molly said, laughing as Nancy reached up to help her alight. ‘I am perfectly well now, I assure you.’ She glanced down at the little dog prancing around her feet. ‘And this is your new guard dog.’ She picked up the furry bundle, laughing as he squirmed in her hold and tried to lick her chin.

  ‘Yes, this is Nelson.’ Fleur chuckled. ‘I fear he will not offer us much protection, however he is quite noisy when anyone arrives, so that is useful.’

  Nancy took Molly’s arm. ‘But let us not stand out here in the wind. Come indoors, Molly. You must sit down and tell us how it happened.’

  ‘Every detail,’ Nancy commanded, as they made themselves comfortable in the drawing room and Daisy came in with the tea tray.

  ‘It is nothing exciting,’ Molly told them. ‘I was coming home from Raikes Farm on Monday when I slipped and sprained my ankle. Mr Russington drove me to Newlands and Miss Kilburn insisted I should stay for a few days. I hope you did not think too badly of me for not coming to help you on Tuesday and not a word of explanation.’

  ‘Oh, but we knew about your accident by then,’ put in Daisy, setting out the teacups.

  ‘I suppose someone told you at the market.’ Molly noticed the guilty looks upon the faces of her friends and she looked from one to the other, frowning. ‘Fleur, Nancy?’

  ‘Fleur met one of the gentlemen from Newlands on Tuesday,’ Nancy explained. ‘She was in the orchard as he came along the lane.’

  ‘His stopped to ask directions,’ said Fleur, two pink spots colouring her cheeks. ‘He was most gentleman-like.’

  ‘It was most likely Sir Gerald,’ said Molly. ‘He was back before the others, because his horse had cast a shoe.’

  ‘Yes, we introduced ourselves.’

  As the blush deepened so did Molly’s frown.

  ‘And there is more?’ She saw Fleur’s anguished look at Nancy and she said sternly, ‘Tell me.’

  ‘He and his friends came to our stall on market day,’ muttered Fleur. ‘There was nothing untoward in their manner, Molly, I assure you. They were merely passing through the market, and he—Sir Gerald—recognised me.’

  ‘So it was purely coincidence.’ Molly
looked sceptical.

  ‘Let us look on the bright side,’ offered Nancy. ‘He sent a runner back in the afternoon to buy up the remainder of our produce.’

  Despite her concerns, Molly laughed. ‘He is certainly very brave, to be interfering in his housekeeper’s business!’

  The mood lightened and no more was said about the meeting until Molly took her leave. As she hugged Fleur, she warned her to be on her guard.

  ‘You must not worry, Molly. I know better than to be taken in by any gentleman’s fine words. Everyone thought my stepfather was the most charming man imaginable.’

  Molly felt her shudder and held her closer.

  ‘I cannot fault Sir Gerald as a host,’ she said carefully. ‘He was most amiable and obliging while I was at Newlands and I have no first-hand knowledge that he is anything but a gentleman. But he is reputed to run with a very fast set and some of them are at Newlands.’

  ‘They are rich and single,’ said Nancy. ‘Such men think they have the right to do anything they wish, but they will not be welcome here. And we have our protectors. Is that not so, Moses?’ she called to the giant, who had brought Molly’s gig to the door, and he nodded back at her, grinning.

  ‘Aye, Miss Nancy’s right there, Mrs Morgan. I’ll keep an eye out for them all, don’t you fret about that.’

  ‘And don’t forget Nelson,’ added Nancy, scooping up the little puppy. ‘We shall train him to attack any gentleman who comes within a mile of Prospect House!’

  That assurance kept Molly smiling as she drove away. Fleur was far too soft-hearted, but Molly knew she could trust Nancy and Moses to look after everyone at Prospect House.

  * * *

  Dinner at Currick Hall was Molly’s first social engagement since her accident and her hosts were anxious to assure themselves that she was fully recovered. Having made her way unaided through the great hall and up the oak staircase to the dark-panelled reception rooms, she was able to reassure them on this point, but she soon realised that no small part of their interest was the fact that Beau Russington had carried her to Newlands. The ladies were all eager to hear more of the rescue and all those who had not yet dined with Sir Gerald were keen to have the house described to them.

  Molly did her best to comply, but she was relieved when dinner was announced and everyone prepared to file into the dining room. However, as she rose and shook out her skirts, the squire’s daughter, Helen, a bouncy seventeen-year-old, told her in an excited whisper that Papa had a surprise for them.

  ‘He has invited Sir Gerald and his party to join us later! We could not accommodate them all at the table, for it was arranged such a time ago, but Papa thought it would be a great shame not to ask them to come for supper and they have accepted!’

  The squire came up, chuckling. ‘What’s that, Puss, have you been giving away my secrets? I hope you are pleased, Mrs Morgan. Nell here and the Misses Claydon hit it off very well at the recent assembly and she has been plaguing the life out of me to invite them back, so I mentioned the matter to Sir Gerald when I saw him earlier today and he has sent me word that they are all to come.’

  ‘Is that not marvellous news, Mrs Morgan?’ Helen was almost hopping with excitement. ‘Papa has said we may have a little impromptu dancing, too.’

  ‘Well, we shall see. We shall see.’ His twinkling eyes came to rest upon Molly. ‘I have no doubt you’ll be glad to see Mr Russington again, will you not, madam? I promise you all the ladies here envy you your good fortune in having such a handsome rescuer.’

  He went off, still chuckling, and when Edwin came up to take Molly in to dinner, she muttered angrily that she had become the talk of the town.

  ‘It will pass.’ He gave her fingers a reassuring pat. ‘It will be eclipsed by other news soon enough.’

  ‘I would not consider my spraining my ankle to be news in the first place!’

  ‘No, it isn’t. But being rescued by an arbiter of fashion is. The squire is right, every lady here is wishing it had happened to her.’

  Molly gave a long sigh. ‘Could we not make our excuses and leave as soon as dinner is ended?’

  ‘No, of course not.’ He laughed. ‘Cheer up, Molly, everyone from Newlands will be pleased to see you are going on so well. And I confess I should not object to a little dancing this evening, although there is no need for you to join in, if you would rather not. You can say your ankle is paining you.’

  It was on the tip of her tongue to retort that she had already used that excuse once, but then she remembered that Edwin knew nothing about that little episode. So she gritted her teeth and held her peace.

  * * *

  Currick Hall was a rambling old house going back at least two centuries and it lacked the spacious reception rooms to be found in more modern properties. The arrival of another dozen people caused a crush in the drawing room, but their host cheerfully assured everyone that once the servants had finished clearing all the furniture, save the pianoforte, from the great hall, there would be plenty of space for everyone, whether dancing or sitting and watching the proceedings.

  The crush in the room made it very warm and Molly moved across to one of the deep window embrasures where she knew from experience the ill-fitting casements allowed in plenty of cold air. She stepped past the curtains to where the shadows were deepest. With her dark hair and deep grey gown, she thought she would attract least attention there. The draught from the windows was refreshing and she was happy to breathe it in, allowing the noise and chatter from the room to pass her by.

  She was just thinking she should rejoin the crowd when she heard the rumble of masculine voices approaching. They came to a halt and she recognised the squire’s genial tones, and the deeper voice of Mr Thomas, the mill owner, who had moved to the area ten years ago, but had never lost his lilting Welsh accent. They had not noticed her and she would have been happy to step out past them, but Mr Flemington’s rather nasal voice made her shrink back even further.

  ‘We enjoyed a fine day’s shootin’ yesterday. Ain’t that so, Aikers? Although Kilburn’s land is sadly out of condition.’

  ‘But with good management, that will improve,’ replied the squire. ‘And even now I am sure it provides some good sport.’

  Molly heard Mr Flemington’s irritating giggle. ‘Talking of sport, we were in town on market day and saw a couple of young women from the Magdalene hospital.’

  ‘You mean Prospect House,’ Mr Thomas corrected him. ‘And it may well have been the ladies that you saw. They are not above selling their surplus from the farm.’

  ‘Mr Thomas is on the committee,’ put in the squire. ‘I can assure you, gentlemen, it is a very respectable establishment.’

  ‘Respectable, you say?’ Molly could almost hear the leer in Sir Joseph Aikers’s voice. ‘By Gad, but they are dashed pretty, for all that. Wouldn’t mind getting a little better acquainted.’

  ‘Well, you won’t do it,’ Mr Thomas told him. ‘They allow no gentlemen callers.’

  ‘But what about at night?’ said Flemington. ‘Surely some of the younger fellows would want to try their luck, eh? And mayhap some of the older ones, too!’

  ‘If anyone was to try such a thing, they’d be disgraced,’ retorted Mr Thomas bluntly. ‘Found out, they would be, you mark my words.’

  The squire harrumphed. ‘Such behaviour would be very much frowned upon, gentlemen, and in a small town like this, word would be bound to get out.’

  ‘Aye, I suppose it would,’ said Sir Joseph. He gave a laugh. ‘Still, it might be worth an attempt.’

  They moved off but it was some moments before Molly felt calm enough to leave the shadows. She was shaking with rage. All her effort, all her work to build up Prospect House into a respectable enterprise and it was scorned by a couple of rakehells. She should not be surprised. These were London ways—her sister, Louisa, wrote to her constantly about them.


  She left the cool security of the window and went in search of Edwin. He was talking with a group of townsfolk, but as soon as she could draw him away, she told him everything she had heard. He tried to reassure her, telling her it was merely the foolish way men boasted to one another.

  ‘You said Mr Thomas and the squire were quick to warn them off. I am sure nothing will come of it.’

  ‘Are you? I am not. Oh, I wish these people had never come here!’

  ‘Now, Molly, you must not think like that. Despite what your sister writes, the ladies are all most amiable, and as for the gentlemen, they have none of them acted with the least impropriety.’

  She swung away from him, saying through her clenched teeth, ‘Not yet!’

  ‘Molly, Molly.’ He gently caught her arms and turned her back to face him. ‘I know you were hurt, my dear, but I pray you will not allow yourself to be prejudiced against all men.’

  ‘It is not prejudice,’ she told him fiercely. ‘Sir Gerald came upon Fleur in the orchard last Tuesday and the very next day he and his—his friends were in the market. Do you tell me that was coincidence?’

  ‘No, I say it was curiosity, nothing more. I spoke to Kilburn about his meeting with Fleur Dellafield and he was most complimentary, even respectful. You know my advice, Molly. You should judge a man’s character by his actions.’

  ‘Surely a man should also be judged by his words.’

  He gave her a little shake. ‘Can you honestly say that Kilburn, Sykes or Claydon have said or done anything to make you think them dissolute? And as for Russ, why, if he had not been on hand to bring you down off the moors and apply ice to your ankle so quickly, your injuries might have been a great deal worse.’

  Russ. Even her brother called him by that familiar name now!