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Never Trust a Rebel(39)

By:Sarah Mallory


‘That was merely a—a foolish, lustful interlude. It had nothing to do with love.’

‘And what do you know of that?’ he demanded angrily. ‘You think yourself in love with a boy you met when you were seventeen and whom you did not see again until a few weeks ago.’

‘I know more of love than you,’ she flashed. ‘You know only lust and seduction and deceit.’ She pulled herself free from his grasp. ‘Tell me, was I still at Hartcombe when you learned that you were a free man?’

‘What?’ He looked at her as if her question had caught him off-guard. ‘Yes, my father told me, the day before we left.’

The day he had made love to her in the pavilion.

‘But you kept the truth from me.’

He rubbed a hand over his eyes. ‘What good would it have done to tell you?’

‘And you persuaded Sir Edward not to say anything?’

‘I did. I did not wish him to—’ He spread his hands. ‘It was not important. You were coming to Bath to marry Reverson.’

A chill ran through Elyse, as if there was ice in her blood.

‘You are right,’ she said stiffly. ‘I am going to marry William. Did you think your scorn that morning was not rejection enough? Perhaps you were afraid I would cling to you even more if I had known you were no longer an outlaw.’

‘No! I did not know then—’

She broke across his protest, unheeding. ‘You are despicable. I am only thankful that after tonight I need never see you again.’ She dashed a hand across her eyes. ‘Now, let me go back to my fiancé.’

‘And if I said I loved you?’

His words hit her battered heart like heavy stones. What was he trying to do? Was he merely taunting her, or did he want to establish her as his flirt, his lover even before she was married? He was testing her, playing his rakish games, but she would not rise to the bait. Misery and anger was a potent mix, but it kept her tears at bay and allowed her to speak with unwavering and icy deliberation.

‘You have my sympathy, but you can hardly expect me to rejoice at such a declaration. It is as unwelcome as it is unlooked for.’

His eyes were blazing and she stepped back, out of reach. If he dragged her into his arms and kissed her now he would know she was lying. She loved him with an intensity that terrified her. She summoned up the last shreds of control.

‘Please leave now, Mr Castlemain. It is best if we do not meet again.’



Drew saw her step away from him; saw the fear in her eyes and silently cursed himself for seven kinds of fool. For a man famed for his address he had handled this very badly. He had intended to suggest to her in a reasoned way that she need not marry Reverson, that she need not marry anyone, if she didn’t wish to do so. Then he had planned to declare himself, to tell her that his hand and his heart were hers for the taking. Instead he had blurted out his feelings like any mooncalf and she had recoiled in disgust. He reached out for her.

‘Elyse, I—’

She turned away from him.

‘Just go. For pity’s sake leave me!’

Her anguished whisper cut him to the quick. His hand dropped back to his side.

‘I will inflict my presence upon you no longer,’ he said quietly. ‘I wish you every happiness, Miss Salforde, and ask you to believe that I am, now and always, your obedient servant.’



Elyse heard the door close and knew she was alone.

I will not cry.

It was tempting to throw herself down in a chair and give way to her misery but Elyse knew that if she wept now she might not be able to stop. Without giving herself time to consider what had just occurred she went swiftly back to the reception. Pride would not allow her to show an unhappy face in such a gathering and she stretched her mouth into a smile that soon made her cheeks ache. The room was as noisy and crowded as when she had left it. She spotted Drew’s dark head immediately, her glance drawn in his direction as if by some force of magnetism. He was making his way towards the door but his progress was slow, impeded by well-wishers, smiling and bowing, anxious to welcome him back into society.

She dragged her eyes away from him. His future was assured, as was hers. She would think of him no more.

But when did Sir Edward tell him about the pardon? It could not have been before he found me in the pavilion.

‘I did not know then…’

She pressed her fingers to her temples. She would not think of him. A brief break in the crowd gave her a glimpse of William standing with his friends on the far side of the room and she made her way across to him. The group stood by themselves, the other guests having moved away and Elyse soon realised why. The immoderate laughter and reddened faces of the young bucks suggested they had been imbibing freely. Even William was looking a little heated and when he saw her his words of greeting were suspiciously slurred.

‘Ah, and here is my blushing bride. Come along and meet my friends my dear. Almondsbury, Pendle, Griffin, make your bows to Miss Salforde.’

The young men attempted flourishing bows with varying degrees of success. Mr Almondsbury straightened and raised his quizzing glass, subjecting her to a prolonged scrutiny. Mr Griffin came forwards to take her hand.

‘Ah, fair lady! ’T-T-Tis an honour to meet you at last.’

She regarded him as he bowed over her fingers, a slight frown creasing her brow.

‘Have we met before, sir? In Scarborough, perhaps?’

He unbent and there was no mistaking the alarm in his rather protuberant eyes. It put her on her guard.

‘S-S-Scarborough, oh, d-dear me, no, Miss—’

She snatched her hand away.

‘It was you,’ she exclaimed. ‘You were one of the attackers.’

Her horrified glance swung from Mr Griffin to William, who began to bluster loudly, but the reaction of the other gentlemen gave the lie to his denials. Elyse looked about her. Everyone was still resolutely ignoring them. Such was the noise in the room she doubted if anyone could overhear their conversation.

‘Did you think it a good joke?’ she demanded in a furious undertone.

‘I said we shouldn’t take loaded pistols,’ muttered Mr Pendle.

‘Be quiet,’ snapped William. ‘Elyse, this is not the time to discuss this.’

‘Oh, and when would you suggest we discussed it?’ she retorted. ‘I want to know which of you wounded Mr Castlemain.’

She glared at the little group, who shuffled uncomfortably beneath her stern gaze.

‘I regret to say that was me,’ admitted Mr Pendle. ‘But only after he had fired at Almondsbury.’

‘He pinked me,’ complained that gentleman, holding up his right hand to show a healing gash on the side of his palm.

Elyse was not impressed. ‘You could have killed him. How dare you! It is a good thing Mr Nash has decreed you do not wear your swords in Bath or I would use yours to run you through.’

Mr Pendle blanched and retreated in the face of such blazing anger. She turned towards William. ‘And the coachman, was he a part of your plans? He said Lord Whittlewood had paid him to drive us to Bath.’

‘My father had nothing to do with it,’ said William quickly. ‘It was entirely my notion. I knew from the start that my father’s plan would not work. If you had come all the way from the north then you would not be put off by a few extra miles to travel to Bath. We decided we must try to stop you.’

‘We? Your friends were a party to this?’ her scorching glare encompassed all four of them.

‘Yes. I told Settle how it would be if you followed us.’

‘Settle knew you were going to attack the coach?’ she asked, incredulous. It certainly explained why he had been avoiding her since her arrival in Queen Square. ‘And he did nothing to stop you?’

William’s scowl deepened. ‘He had no choice, short of telling my father, and he has always been too loyal to me for that. Settle thought he could delay you if he said he was ill, but that dashed guardian of yours was determined to fulfil the contract.’

‘And he was seriously injured for his troubles,’ said Elyse, her anger against Drew fast disappearing. ‘What a despicable thing to do, William!’

‘What does it matter?’ demanded Griffin peevishly. ‘The fellow’s a dashed traitor.’

‘He has been granted a full pardon.’ Elyse flashed back. ‘He a free man, and a far more honourable one than any of you.’

He was closeted with his father while I was in the kitchen. Perhaps that was when he learned of it.

‘It was an accident, we never meant you any harm,’ said William in a sulky tone. ‘I will arrange for the baggage to be returned, anonymously, of course. And Castlemain’s purse, too.’

‘That is the very least you can do,’ she told him angrily. ‘Whatever were you thinking of, to try such a trick?’

William’s scowl deepened. ‘We merely planned to hold you at Griffin’s house for a week or so, until Michaelmas passed and the contract was breached.’

She stared at him in dismay.

‘Oh, William. Are you so averse to marrying me?’

‘I had not seen you for three years,’ he protested. ‘You are a stranger to me.’

‘But your letters!’

He shrugged. ‘While our marriage was but some vague future event it was easy to write, but as the time grew closer I began to regret my rash promise. Father would not let me cry off, or give you any hint that I was reluctant to wed you.’