The Care and Feeding of Rogues (A Lady’s Guide to Rogues #1)

Chapter 21

The world held a gray cast as Elise went through the motions the following morning. A doctor put her arm in a sling, and she was told to keep her movements restricted. The authorities arrived and she gave her statement, along with Prospero, before their return journey to London. She’d stood on the deck of the ship, looking out on the water, her gaze unable to penetrate the layers of blue to see into its depths. All of this had happened, and yet she’d barely been aware of it.

Her father was gone.

Seabirds followed them as they reached the coast and disembarked. Prospero stayed by her side every step of the way to the train station. He spoke little, yet she was relieved. She needed quiet, and he seemed to sense that. He always seemed to know just what she needed.

When the train arrived in London that evening, Mary and Conley were sent on to the townhouse ahead of them. Prospero assisted Elise into a waiting coach, but he didn’t give the driver the townhouse address straightaway.

“Do you wish to visit with Cinna and Edwina?” he asked. “Or we could go to the society’s headquarters and stay there for a little while... until you are ready.” His gaze was so full of compassion that tears pricked her eyes. He knew that being in the company of her friends or within the walls of her society would give her comfort.

“Could we go to the headquarters? I don’t feel up to explaining to my friends what has happened.” She would have to tell them tomorrow, but she couldn’t face that situation just yet. It would make her father’s death too real, too final.

Prospero gave the driver the society’s address on Baker Street, then joined her inside the coach. Elise burrowed against him, resting her head on Prospero’s shoulder and taking in his scent as she closed her eyes. He kept his good arm around her shoulders, tucking her into him, making her feel protected and cherished.

The coach stopped at Baker Street, and they climbed out to face the society’s headquarters. It seemed fitting to be here now, the place where they’d first met. They walked up the steps together, hand in hand. The butler greeted them and informed them it had been quiet today and they had the house to themselves.

Elise went straight to her study and found the room much the same as when she’d interviewed Prospero. He followed behind her like a silent shadow as she checked on her plants, which had been watered in her absence. The frogs and turtles in their glass aquariums had likewise been fed and were doing well. She moved past the towering bookshelves, her fingers tracing the spines of all the books that had given her so much joy over the years. It was like shaking hands with old friends.

She removed her sling for a moment and picked up the large jar that held the privet hawk moth. It was sitting on top of a flower, its white antennae quivering as it stared up at her. She stared back, marveling at its beautiful wings with two spots that looked like bright blue eyes. It was time for her little friend to be set free. She let out a sigh and walked over to the bay window of her study. Prospero, sensing what she was about to do, opened it for her.

With a wince of pain, she removed the lid from the jar and stood at the window’s edge, tilting the jar toward the back garden where a lush world of flowers awaited the moth, but it didn’t move. After a moment, Elise reached into the jar and gently cupped the moth in her palm before she lifted it out. Then she opened her palm and leaned in to whisper to the insect.

“There is a wide, wonderful world out there for you. All you must do is spread your wings and fly.”

The moth’s wings fluttered hesitantly, and then, with one shivering wave of its antennae, it took flight and fluttered its way through the garden until she lost sight of it.

A sob rose in Elise’s throat. She turned and pressed herself into Prospero’s chest. He wrapped his arms around her, and she cried until she had no strength to move. She was left bone-weary and empty inside.

Her husband tilted her face up to his and brushed away the stray tears still shining upon her cheeks with gentle fingertips.

“Feeling better?”

“It’s all rather silly, but yes. I despise crying.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because it makes me feel weak.”

“Yes, we are told it is a sign of weakness, aren’t we? But I rather think it’s the opposite. You cry because of the wealth of love you had to give to your father and now have no one to receive it. But it takes courage to love and courage to give love to others. Such tears to me are a sign of that strength.”

“How do you understand women so well?” It was a question she’d asked him before, yet each time he provided some new answer.

“In France, my livelihood depended on understanding women and what made them happy. But to understand their joys, you must also understand their sorrows. I believe the problem with most men is that they spend so little time with their wives, mothers, or sisters that they never come to understand them or the lives they lead.”

She sighed and tucked her face back against his chest. “Well, I am glad you did.”

Prospero ushered her to the settee and seated himself with her on his lap. Something furry suddenly jumped up beside them. It was Pallas, the society’s resident Pallas cat. His wide, striped face stared at her before he raised a fluffy paw and kneaded her arm and purred. Pallas’s green-gold eyes were wide and innocent as he continued to purr.

Prospero chuckled. “Someone is glad to see you.”

Elise lifted the hefty ball of fur and settled Pallas upon her. The cat kneaded her lap before settling down and half closing his eyes. The three of them sat for a long time until the lamps burned low. Eventually, Prospero removed the cat, setting him gently on the floor.

“Sorry, old boy, but it’s time we head for home.” He gave the cat an affectionate stroke on the head.

“Must we leave? Perhaps we could move in here,” Elise suggested.

Prospero cupped her cheek and gazed down at her. She saw the hint of laugh lines at the corners of his mouth and eyes. Strange, she’d never noticed that before. How was it that he could find joy in the world when he’d lost so much and been so hurt?

Prospero stroked his thumb along her cheek, his blue eyes burning bright. “Life is full of things that will hurt you. And while many will tell you otherwise, there is but one real cure.”

“What cure?” she breathed, unable to tear her gaze away from his.

“Love, my heart—love. It pierces every veil of darkness, chases every storm cloud away. It warms those who would perish from the cold. Love keeps our lives moving forward. We may stop upon the path and look back, aching in our hearts for what we once had, but love gives you the strength to face the future. We all lose people we cannot replace, but love gives us the strength to grow around our grief.”

Her heart beat faster as he traced her lips with his thumb. “How do you know this?”

A soft smile curved his mouth. “Because loving you kept me moving forward. You cured me of my grief, darling wife. You.”

“I love you.” Worlds could be built upon those three words, perhaps the most powerful words in the vast expanse of time and space.

Prospero winked at her. “I know.” Somehow, he always knew what to say, even when he was teasing her to raise her spirits.

He helped her stand, and they left the society’s headquarters. Elise felt sick at the thought of returning home to a world without her father, but Prospero was right. One could stop and look back, but one could never go back.

She clutched her husband’s arm tight as they climbed the steps to her—no, their home. Beyond those doors would be pain and grief, but she could survive it. When the front door opened, Roberts’s solemn face met them.

“My lady.” He stepped back to let them enter, then bowed to Prospero. “My lord.”

Elise saw the dark bruises on the butler’s throat. “Roberts! Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, my lady, quite fine. Just a bit bruised.” He offered her and Prospero a rare smile. She examined the two footmen in the hall next, both of whom looked as bruised and beaten on the outside as she felt. Adam Jackson had truly been a monster to harm so many people.

“And you? My lady? I was told you and his lordship were attacked.”

She nodded at her arm, which was back in its sling.

“And you, my lord?” Roberts asked.

Prospero chuckled. “Just a small wound. It will heal.” He patted his bad shoulder gently, but still winced. The dressing was hidden beneath his clothes.

Something niggled at the back of Elise’s mind until it clicked into place.

“Roberts, why is the staff not dressed for mourning? They ought to be in black or wearing black armbands. Papa should have?—”

“It’s all right, darling. Your father left instructions that he did not want anyone to dress for mourning, not even you. No matter how scandalous it might be,” Prospero said.

Roberts cleared his throat. “There’s something you must both see at once.” He turned away without a word and headed upstairs.

Elise followed. Most likely, she was being led to see her father’s body lying in repose. It was customary to have people dressed in their burial clothes at their home. Her fingers dug into Prospero’s sleeve as Roberts opened the bedchamber door.

“You are not alone,” Prospero reassured her, and they stepped into the room together.

She had prepared herself for this moment, but she was not ready for the sight that actually greeted her.

Her father lay on the bed, alive, and the sight made her burst into tears.

“Elise, sweetheart, I cannot possibly look that dreadful,” her father said, his voice rough. Dr. Watson stood beside the bed, measuring her father’s pulse. He lay back in bed, propped on a few pillows, his face pale.

Her heart slammed to a sudden stop as she stared at her father. He was alive. Relief swept through her like a powerful wave, and behind that came a flash of anger that Mr. Holmes had misinformed her. But that fury quickly faded as she saw her father give her a weary smile. That feeling that she couldn’t breathe, that she was slowly suffocating, began to ease.

“Good God,” Prospero gasped, clutching Elise tight. “John, you’re all right!”

Her father gave a raspy chuckle. “Far from it, but I am alive. Welcome back, my boy. I’m sure this is quite a shock for you both.”

“Indeed, but a welcome one,” Prospero replied.

“Mr. Holmes said you perished.” Elise rushed to the bed and threw her arms around her father, uncaring how much pain it caused her shoulder. She just had to touch him, to feel his heartbeat and know he wasn’t some dream.

“For a moment, I believed I was,” her father said as he held her. “But Dr. Watson worked a miracle.” Her father let go of her and then studied her face. “What happened? Mr. Holmes spun some fantastical tale about you being thrown off a cliff by that bastard Jackson.” He examined her arm in her sling, and his gaze shifted to Prospero. “And you, lad? Holmes said you’d been shot.”

Prospero joined Elise beside the bed and held out a hand to her father.

“Apparently, we are all quite hard to kill. That’s two brushes with death I’ve thankfully walked away from.”

Her father shook Prospero’s hand. “Well, let’s not have a third, eh?” He turned his focus back to Elise. “Did you really fall off the cliff, my child?”

She nodded. “Prospero had already fallen, and I thought that he was dead. But he landed on a ledge about fifteen feet down. When Jackson took me over the cliff with him, Prospero reached out and caught me. That’s how I injured my shoulder.”

John’s gaze turned back to Prospero. “You kept your promise, my boy.” His words shook a little.

“He did,” Elise said, holding back a sob.

Prospero leaned down to kiss her temple. “And I will keep it every day for the rest of our lives.”

“Well now, this is all happy news! Let’s have no more crying. Not when?—”

John was interrupted by the bedchamber door opening. A woman close to Prospero’s age stepped inside the room. Her face was marred by bruises and her lip was cut. She turned bright red when she saw the crowd gathered at Elise’s father’s bedside.

“Celine?” Prospero said the name with surprise.

“Oh, Prospero!” the woman gasped, her face now ash white.

Prospero’s surprise quickly turned to anger. “What the devil are you doing here?”

“Easy, my boy. She saved my life. And yours too.”

Celine’s gaze dropped to the floor, and Elise had a moment to study her. She was lovely, her elegance understated in a blue-and-white striped bustle gown that had no extra frills or embellishments. So this was Celine Jackson, the woman who’d told her older brothers that Prospero had seduced her. The woman who had set all the events that followed into motion.

“Can I speak to you?” Celine asked Prospero, then glanced at Elise. “Actually, may I speak to both of you?” She stepped outside of the room and waited for them to join her.

Elise exchanged a look with Prospero, whose lips had formed a hard line, but he nodded in silent agreement that they should hear what she had to say.

* * *

Prospero clenched his fists as he faced the woman who had featured in so many of his worst nightmares as the puppet master behind his ruin.

“There will never be enough apologies I can make to you,” Celine said. “I was trapped in a terrible situation with my eldest brother and saw no other way to escape him. I thought you could save me if we were married, and telling them you seduced me was the only way I could force you to. I see now how foolish and selfish that decision was. I never thought...” Celine’s brown eyes filled with tears, and he couldn’t fail to notice how pale she was beneath the bruises on her skin. This was not the woman he’d imagined all these years who had so callously hurt him with her lies. She’d simply been a young woman, desperate to break free of a horrible and dangerous life. He might have done the same had he been in her position.

“After you left for France, I managed to marry, but when my husband died unexpectedly, I was forced to return to Adam’s house. Only this time, Aaron wasn’t there to step in and protect me from Adam...” She began to tremble.

Elise reached out and caught Celine’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“We don’t blame you,” Elise said. “We know your brother was a monster, but he is gone now. You never have to worry about him again.”

If Prospero had not already been madly in love with his wife, he would have been now. To show such compassion and empathy for Celine after all that had happened... Elise’s heart was even bigger than he had imagined.

“Does your brother’s death leave you in a decent financial state?” Prospero asked.

Fear colored Celine’s face. “I honestly don’t know. I was never allowed to know about such things.”

“Never mind that. We will help you,” Elise said. “I will send you home with the address of my society’s headquarters. We can meet with you and analyze the account books once you find them. I would check your brother’s study first. That is where most account books and ledgers are usually kept.”

“Your... society?” Celine asked in confusion.

“The Society of Rebellious Ladies.”

Celine mouthed the words in confusion. “You rebel? Against what?”

Elise grinned. “Against anything and everything that dares to hold women back. We can help you find employment if you need it. We hold weekly meetings where society members instruct others in newly learned skills or topics. Everything from engineering to musical composition to understanding the stock markets.”

Celine’s eyes grew wide. “Heavens. I’ve always wanted to learn such things, but Adam said I was nothing but a...” She didn’t finish. Prospero held in a breath of relief. If she’d dared to say what her brother had called her, he’d want to bring the man back from the dead just to kill him again.

“Good. We will be glad to help you,” Elise promised.

Celine turned back to Prospero with a bittersweet smile. “It seems you found her, after all. The woman who is your perfect match.”

“It seems I have.” He hadn’t forgotten that long-ago night in the gardens where he and Celine had spoken of love matches and perfect partners. That had been another life, but she was right. In this new life, he’d been given the gift of that perfect partner in Elise.

“Do you need us to hire a hackney to take you home?” Prospero asked.

“Oh yes, but I came to see Mr. Hamblin first. He was so brave when he saved me. I wanted to make certain that he’s been healing well.”

“Of course,” Elise said, and Celine hurried back into the bedchamber.

Now alone in the corridor, Prospero pulled Elise into his arms. He swept his gaze over her features, an image he would carry in his soul for the rest of his life.

“Am I truly your perfect match?” Elise asked. Hope burned in her warm brown eyes, and all the years of loneliness and quiet desperation he’d felt for the last several years had faded away the moment he’d met her.

There was only Elise, the woman he loved so much it hurt.

When a person truly gave their heart to another, it was possible not only to catch a glimpse of heaven but to dwell there forevermore. He tucked his fingers under Elise’s chin and tilted her head up.

“You are so much more than just a perfect match,” he said. “You are my gift from the heavens, the beginning of everything.” He lowered his head and covered her lips with his, relishing her soft gasp.

She curled an arm around his neck, and he deepened the kiss, thinking of how marvelous and bright the future would be for the women Elise would inspire in the years to come, and how being husband to a rebel was perhaps the best experience of his life.

She blinked as their lips parted, her soft bedroom eyes giving him wild ideas even though he knew neither of them was quite up yet for anything so vigorous, but he could manage gentle lovemaking easily enough.

A mischievous glint filled her eyes, one that sent a shiver of desire through his entire body. “I was thinking...”

“You know I adore it when you start thinking,” he teased.

“Well, once my papers are ready, I was thinking of paying a visit to the Geological Society of London to present my findings on my latest fossils. That means I shall need to sneak into their meeting in disguise. Would you help me?”

He chuckled. “Help you sneak into a male-only meeting of a bunch of grumpy old scientists and have you shock them out of their top hats? I can think of nothing I’d rather do.” He tucked her arm in his. “But right now, we have something else to study first, and we must conduct that research thoroughly... until we are both quite useless.”