Jo Beverley - [Rogue ] Read Free

Surrey in which they had lived before he acceded to the title. There he had apparently sought comfort in the arms of an "honest" woman.
    The duchess sighed. It was far too late to feel pain at that betrayal. Quite ridiculous too. Was the result, this Elizabeth Armitage, a blessing or a curse?
    What William had hit upon was a solution, she supposed, but at what cost? Lucien would know what she had done. It would drive a greater wedge between him and his father. It would tie two people together in a marriage without love.
    She must at least warn him.
    She hurried over to her elegant escritoire and wrote a hasty explanation to her beloved son: to prepare him, to ask him to agree if at all possible, to beg his forgiveness. She rang the silver bell and a footman entered.
    "I wish this note to go to the marquess in London," she said. Then, as the man turned to leave she added, "Has the duke sent a letter also, do you know?"
    "I believe the duke is leaving for London at this minute, Your Grace."
    The duchess turned to the window. Clear sunlight showed her the picture perfectly. A crested coach drawn by the six fastest horses in the stables was bowling down the driveway. She sighed.
    "I do not think my letter is necessary after all," she said and took it back. When the man had withdrawn she tore it into pieces and threw it into the fire.
    What would be, would be. The past twenty-five years, years without her husband's love and without hope of it, had taught her a certain resignation.

 
     
     
    Chapter 2

     
    That night found Lucien Philippe de Vaux, Marquess of Arden, riding a stolen horse hell-for-leather through the dark and rain-washed streets of London. Only superb skill and strength controlled the excited beast on the slippery cobbles. When the drivers of startled teams cursed, he laughed, white teeth gleaming in the gaslights. When a costermonger yelled, "Bloody nobs!" and pelted him with some of the less choice of his wares, he caught one of the apples and shied it back to accurately knock off the man's felt hat.
    He reined the horse in at the Drury Lane Theater and summoned a hovering urchin. "Guard the horse and there's a guinea for you," he called as he sprinted off towards the side door. The main doors were already locked for the night.
    The barefoot street Arab clutched onto the reins of the tired horse as if they were his hope of heaven, as perhaps they were.
    The marquess's banging on the theater door, executed as it was with a brick he had picked up in the side alley, soon brought the grumbling caretaker.
    "Wot the 'ell ye want?" he snarled through a chink in the door.
    The marquess held up a glittering guinea and the door opened wide.
    The man grabbed the coin. "Everyone's gorn," he said. "If it's Madam Blanche you're looking for she's off with the Mad Marquess."
    At the visitor's laugh he blinked and held his lantern a little higher. It illuminated clear-cut features and brilliant blue eyes. The-fact that the marquess's distinctive gold hair was a sodden brown did not disguise him. "Beggin' yer pardon, milord. No offense."
    "None taken," said the marquess blithely as he pushed past. "The White Dove of Drury Lane has left her favorite handkerchief in her room. I come as her humble servant to retrieve it." With that he sped off down the dingy corridor.
    The caretaker shook his head. "Mad. Mad, the lot of 'em." He bit the guinea as a matter of habit, though he knew Arden wouldn't offer false coin.
    In a few moments the young man ran nimbly back down the corridor and out into the rain, which was surely ruining a small fortune in elegant tailoring. He took the reins of the horse and pulled out another guinea. Then he hesitated, glancing down at the urchin.
    "I'd be surprised if you're more than twelve," he said thoughtfully. "You'll have trouble splitting this."
    It was not a problem bothering the boy, whose wide eyes were fixed on the gold.
    The marquess grinned. "Don't worry. I'm not going to chouse you. How would