Regency Betrayal: The Rake to Ruin Her / The Rake to Redeem Her

Elizabeth poured them wine and handed Caro a glass. ‘Come and live with me, then. We’ll be two eccentric bluestockings, keeping pugs, reading scientific tracts and nattering on about the rights of working women and prostitutes, like that Mary Wollstonecraft creature.’

Caro attempted a smile, but with her whole world disintegrating around her, she didn’t have the heart to appreciate her cousin’s attempt at humour. ‘You should think twice before making such an offer. I’m a social pariah now, remember.’

Her cousin merely laughed. ‘Oh, yes, I’ve heard the fantastical tale Lady Melross has been spreading. You, baring your bosom to snag a gentleman? Max Ransleigh, rake though he be, mauling a gently born girl in his own aunt’s conservatory? No one who knows either of you could possibly believe it.’

In no mood to recount the story again, despite the curiosity in her cousin’s eyes, Caro merely shrugged.

Tacitly accepting her reluctance, Elizabeth sighed. ‘Is there no way to get around Lord Woodbury?’

‘Only if I could find a fortune hunter desperate enough to escort me to Gretna Green tonight.’

Elizabeth shuddered. ‘Don’t even joke of such a thing! Besides, wouldn’t Woodbury put a stop to that, too?’

‘He couldn’t; I’m of age. And, once married, my new husband would take ownership of everything from the trustees, with the power to cancel the sale.’

‘I trust you are only jesting,’ Elizabeth said, looking at her with concern. ‘Gaining a husband would give you no more control over your wealth than your trustees do, as I learned to my sorrow. Oh, if only Harry were not so far away in India!’

‘I know,’ Caro said, feeling tears again prick her eyes. She’d never expected that at the most desperate hour of her life her closest childhood friend would be too far away to help her. ‘I wrote to him tonight, useless as that was. But the plain fact is he’s not here, nor could he possibly return before the sale goes through … and then the stud is lost to me for ever.’

Merely saying the words sent a knife-like pain slashing through her. Lips trembling, she pushed the image of Sultan from her mind.

‘That soon?’ Elizabeth was saying. ‘I’m almost willing to draw up a list of eligible gentlemen.’

‘He could have all my money, as long as he left me enough to maintain the stud. If only I knew someone besides Harry who’d be honourable enough to make such a bargain and keep—’ Caroline broke off abruptly as Max Ransleigh’s words echoed in her ears: You could run the stud with my blessing …

A near-hysterical excitement blazing new energy into her, she seized her cousin’s arm. ‘Elizabeth, you are acquainted with the Ransleighs, aren’t you?’

‘I haven’t moved in their circles since my début Season, but I still count Jane Ransleigh as a friend. She’s Lady Gilford now, one of society’s most important—’

‘Yes, yes, I know her,’ Caroline interrupted. ‘Is she in town? Could you get a message to her?’

‘I suppose so. What is it, Caro? You’re as white as if you were about to faint—and you’re hurting my arm.’

‘Sorry,’ she mumbled, releasing it at once. Lightheaded, desperate, feeling every hour she’d gone without food and sleep and rest, she said, ‘I must get a message to her cousin, Max Ransleigh. Tonight, if possible.’

‘Max Ransleigh? Ah, the man who …’ Comprehension dawned in Elizabeth’s eyes. ‘Are you sure?’

‘I am. Though I’m not at all sure, after the scandal I dragged him into, that Lady Gilford would agree to give me his direction.’

‘You don’t have to ask her. Max is here now, in London. Jane told me at tea last week that he’d come to town to meet with the colonel who used to command his regiment.’