Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Next day
The outskirts of London rolling past the carriage window, Valentina stroked a nervous palm along Miss Hiss’s fuzzy gray fur. The kitten had finally settled and curled into a tiny ball on Valentina’s lap, her sharp claws serenely kneading worn wool skirts.
She didn’t mind, for she was dressed in her own clothes.
She’d insisted on it.
After the coming events of the next hour, she would be moving on with her own life—not the Windermere life she’d been leading these last several days.
Archie rode into view. He’d chosen to ride alongside the carriage to Epsom, leaving her alone with the kitten in the carriage.
Alone with thoughts that kept circling her mind like a whirligig.
Of course, she was anxious about the double swindle they were about to attempt.
She snorted lightly. Only Archie could come up with such a bold, mad idea.
But the thing about Archie’s bold, mad ideas was they possessed a certain creativity and scope that infused their madness with possibility. They were just mad enough to work.
Archie… She took him in—gorgeous in the saddle with the midday sun glinting off his golden curls. He held such calm command and assurance.
Of course, he wasn’t the only mad one between them.
These last few days she’d been consumed with an utter madness for the man. Insatiable…hoyden… And last night, when he’d suggested an arrangement, she’d told him no when every cell in her body had wanted—demanded—she say yes. How could she give him up?
And yet…
She must. Men like him—lords—didn’t enter into relationships with women like her—commoners—unless they were of the arrangement variety.
This infatuation…
It would pass.
That was what she would keep telling herself until it was true.
The Epsom racecourse came into view—a brown dirt track surrounding an oval of lush green grass.
A few riders were out, taking their horses through their paces.
Valentina had never been to a racecourse or seen horses quite like these—coats sleek and shiny, dense muscles working just beneath the skin in tension and release as they went from trot to canter to gallop.
And Lord Nestor thought he would be leaving the track with one such animal?
He was in for quite the surprise.
The carriage slowed to a gentle stop, as if careful of not disturbing Miss Hiss’s slumber.
The time had arrived.
To secure her family’s lost savings.
To never see Archie again.
The carriage door swung open. She expected a footman’s hand to appear in the opening.
Instead, Archie pushed inside and shut the door behind him.
He sat on the bench opposite her and ran a hand through his hair.
She knew him well enough now to understand it as a nervous gesture.
She met his gaze and detected a storm in there.
He’d left his usual smiling self outside.
“Are you ready?” he asked at last. She sensed that wasn’t what he’d come here to say.
“No…yes,” she said, waiting for the real conversation to begin.
“If it all goes sideways, you’re safe. I’ll keep my word.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll compensate your family, and the other families, too.”
“You don’t have to pay the price for another man’s transgressions.”
“I made a promise,” he said tightly. “And I will honor it.”
She let a moment pass, then asked, “Is that all you came here to say?”
She attempted to clear her mind as she waited for his response.
She wouldn’t let herself hope.
He nodded. “There is something else.”
Valentina’s heart kicked into a gallop. No horse on the track was moving faster. “What is it?”
Archie dug into the breast pocket of his greatcoat and pulled out a white slip of paper. A calling card. He extended it across the footwell.
Ravensworth.
That was all it said.
Her eyebrows lifted in silent question.
“The Duke of Ravensworth,” said Archie.
“He and I are not acquainted,” she said, as if the fact weren’t already obvious.
Archie’s jaw tensed and released. “But you could be.”
“Should I feel insulted?” She’d made her view on arrangements perfectly clear last night.
“Ravensworth is a known patron of the arts. His patronage would guarantee you the illustrious career you and your talent deserve.”
“And what would be the price of the Duke of Ravensworth’s patronage?”
Archie flinched, and Valentina felt a frisson of rotten triumph.
“I’ve known Ravensworth for twenty years. He’s a good man.”
But even as Archie spoke the words, Valentina sensed he wasn’t wholly certain of them. In the eyes of other men, a man could be a “good man” and a cad to women. Other men would never see that side of their friend.
Valentina nodded and slipped the calling card into her reticule. Not that she had any intention of using it. The duke’s patronage would only keep her in Archie’s orbit, and she understood at a fundamental level that she needed to be loosed from his world to be free to find happiness without him.
Archie didn’t move, but kept studying her in silence.
“Is there anything else?” she asked, her irritation showing.
“You’re still not apologizing for last night?”
She shook her head. “No. I don’t regret it.”
“Do you have any regrets?”
“None.”
Tension tightened into knots between them.
He was opening his mouth to speak when a face appeared in the window. “Papa!” Valentina exclaimed.
The carriage door opened, and the moment slipped away. Whatever Archie had been about to say, gone.
And perhaps that was for the best.
Papa’s hand appeared to assist her down from the carriage.
She opened her travel bag and settled Miss Hiss inside, leaving the closure open wide enough for the kitten to poke her head through.
Once on the ground, Papa took Valentina in one of his huge hugs, and she allowed warmth and safety to sink into her.
When they separated, she found Archie watching them with half a smile.
He respected and admired her relationship with her family. She liked that about him.
Oh, she couldn’t think about the things she liked about Archie.
He got directly down to business with Papa, taking charge without becoming overbearing. He didn’t demand it, but others naturally deferred to him due to his air of authenticity.
She’d been wrong when she’d called him a fake. The fact was the man contained a multitude of characteristics.
Papa nodded his agreement with the plan and took himself off to tell the others.
A coach-and-four rolled into view, and Archie caught Valentina’s eye. “Ready?”
She nodded as the carriage stopped. The door swung open, and Lord Nestor descended with the assistance of a footman. Archie snorted as the coachman lugged a trunk off the back of the carriage and let it drop near Archie’s feet with a clunk that jingled just a little.
A swagger in his step, Nestor made his way toward them. “Took some doing to get it all in guineas,” he called out, his gaze fixed on the horses taking their paces on the track. “One of those ours?”
A smile tipped about Archie’s mouth. “Funny you should mention that.”
Nestor’s eyebrows crinkled together. He sensed something in the air.
He glanced about, a rising panic in his eyes, his jaw tensed.
His gaze brushed across Valentina before whipping back around and settling on her.
“You…” He was clearly having difficulty linking the woman before him with La Contessa. “Why are you dressed like…like…that.”
“Like a servant?” she asked.
His expression turned to utter befuddlement. “And why are you talking like that?”
“Like an Englishwoman?” she asked, unable to keep a mean, little smile from curling about her mouth. Miss Hiss’s attitude might’ve been rubbing off on her.
Nestor’s eyes rounded into saucers, and his skin went from pale milk to scarlet in an instant. “Archer, where is our horse?”
“Ah, yes, of course.” Archie signaled a stable lad some fifty yards away. He nodded and fetched a horse from the nearest paddock. Valentina squinted at the animal. It appeared docile and well cared for, but also old as Methuselah.
The scarlet of Nestor’s skin transitioned into a ghastly shade of green. “What is this, Archer?” he sputtered.
Archie threw his arm wide. “Meet Arabian.”
“Arabian? That is no Arabian,” fumed Nestor.
“That’s the old chap’s name,” said Archie. He tapped a contemplative finger against his mouth. “Although I think it must’ve been ironic.”
Nestor’s eyes narrowed. “Do you think to swindle me, Archer?” He barked an ugly laugh. “I’ll have your reputation in tatters by nightfall. More than a few members of the ton wouldn’t mind seeing a Windermere taken down a peg or two, let me tell you.”
Though Valentina’s palms had gone slick with sweat, Archie’s smile remained cool and unbothered by Nestor’s bluster. “I don’t think you will.”
“And why is that?”
Archie stuck two fingers into his mouth and let a piercing whistle fly. Near twenty men emerged from the stable, Papa in the middle. All the color drained from Nestor’s face.
Archie nodded in the men’s direction. “They are why.”
“It’s their word against mine,” said Nestor with a bravado undermined by the bead of sweat that trickled down the side of his face.
“And it’s your word against mine,” said Archie, low and determined.
Valentina saw on Nestor’s face the instant he realized not only wouldn’t he get the horse, but he wouldn’t be getting what he truly wanted, either.
His return to the top tier of Society.
That would be denied him forever.
The loss of the guineas would be nothing to that particular loss, which would sit like rot in his gut for the rest of his days.
Valentina felt not a shred of pity for the man.
This was justice served.
“Now, I’ll tell you exactly what you’re going to do,” said Archie.
The chill and command in his voice sent a shiver slithering through Valentina.
She wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of his ire.
Just as he pursued pleasure relentlessly, so, too, did he pursue justice.
He opened the trunk to reveal a cache of guineas.
Five thousand pounds worth, to be exact.
“This will be returned to its rightful owners, and you will leave England for one year.”
“Leave England?” sputtered Nestor. “You must be as mad as they say. Where would I go?”
“Or would you rather stay and handle this matter in full view of Society?” Archie shrugged. “That option is also available to you. Makes no difference to me.”
“You’re serious,” said Nestor.
“Utterly,” said Archie.
Nestor’s show of defiance fell entirely away, and he looked slightly winded. With a few words, his shadowy world built of envy, deceit, and lies had collapsed about his head. He gave his thigh three hard whacks with his palm, pivoted, and charged toward his coach-and-four.
“I’ll give you three days to be out of London,” Archie called to his back.
A cheer went up from Papa and his fellow tradesmen as Nestor’s carriage rolled down the drive. For ten full minutes, Archie was the recipient of dozens of slaps to the back, while Valentina swiped more than a few tears from her eyes. These men—their livelihoods, their families—were saved.
And it was all because of the wild, mad, bold Viscount Archer.
They might not have a future together, but she would never regret their past.
He met her gaze over the crowd. How was it that so much could pass between them without words?
Leaving Papa and the other tradesmen to sort the money, he made his way toward her, stopping an awkward few feet away. Though short, that distance felt unbridgeable.
“Thank you,” she said. Her stiff thanks felt wrong.
“I don’t require gratitude from you, Valentina.”
Her heart in her throat, she managed to nod. A question demanded oxygen. And what do you require of me, Lord Archer?
But she couldn’t give it voice.
It was too intimate.
It would expose her fragile determination to move on with her life and create a fissure. From there, it would take very little—one of his smiles would do it—to crack that fissure wide open and have her all but begging for an arrangement.
Hoyden.
Papa joined them. “Valentina, it’s time for us to leave. Your Mama will have worried her skirts to rags by now.” He turned to Archie. “Would you join us for a meal, Lord Archer?”
“I’m afraid I have a previous engagement, Mr. Hart. So, I shall offer you my farewell here.”
The men shook hands, and Valentina had to glance away. Archie, like her, understood this was the opportunity to break it off cleanly. Their lives apart had to begin sometime. They might as well start now.
When she dared turn, she found Archie facing her and extending his hand. “Miss Hart,” he said, proper. “It was my pleasure.”
Oh, those words in combination with a look in his eyes that only she knew weren’t proper at all. After a moment’s hesitation, she took his hand, though she knew she shouldn’t touch him.
The handshake was over nearly as quickly as it had begun.
Yet her hand tingled with it, as she’d known it would.
Then she pivoted and was walking with Papa, a numbness in her body and mind.
That wasn’t quite true.
Her right hand felt alive from his touch.
Oh, and one other feeling crawled through her.
Despair.
It felt wrong to leave Archie. And yet…
What choice had she?