Page 8 of Undoubtedly Reckless (Rebel by Night #2)

Promenade

The next morning, Roland attempted to enjoy his coddled eggs and cold pork in a rare moment of solitude. The rest of the household was likely still abed. As Wilfred had dressed him that morning, he had let Roland know that all household members had returned at two in the morning, so they must have enjoyed themselves enormously.

Roland looked up when Aria stomped into the breakfast room. Though it was not required, he stood for her anyway. Then he saw the fight brewing in her sky-blue eyes and sighed inwardly.

Aria’s hands were working with a deck of cards, which seemed to be her constant companion lately. She slapped the deck down next to a plate, served herself, and sat down, all the while shooting daggers at him with her glares.

“Good morning, sister,”

Roland said evenly.

“And where, pray tell, did you disappear to last night?”

Aria asked without preamble.

“Surely my note to you was sufficient,”

Roland said.

“You wrote that you were indisposed due to an emergency. I am quite interested as to what emergency could be so dire that you would leave me alone at a duke’s house.”

Aria snapped the cards from one hand to another, swiftly and surely.

“You were appropriately chaperoned by Tristan and Ransom.”

“As I said, alone. We lost Tristan to some rout and Ransom escorted us back. Now I believe I asked you a question.”

“Far be it for me to bore you with the banality of my evening,”

Roland said.

“No, please do. I beg you,”

Aria said, her eyes hard.

“The champagne disagreed with my stomach,”

Roland said. Aria nodded.

“Go on,”

she dared.

“I was unable to reach the lavatory in time and was forced to borrow a footman’s breeches. I took a cab back to our abode,”

Roland lied baldly. He saw that she did not believe him. “Aria, have pity, I came with you. I let myself be gawked at in a manner more fitting for a circus attraction. I followed all your instructions, provided your attire and mine, and ensured you were properly chaperoned. I have earned some measure of privacy.”

The mutinous look on Aria’s face informed him that no, he was far from forgiven. His mind drifted, as it regularly did this morning, to Sabina’s face.

“Very well. Then, you can find time in your schedule this morning to escort Sage and myself to Hyde,”

Aria said.

“I say, what was that, Princess?”

Roland asked absently.

“The. Park,”

Aria annunciated carefully. “It is a place to which people go to display themselves and speak with other people.”

“I have work, Aria. There is much to do,”

Roland hedged. In all honestly, he only wished to ponder Sabina. She was the brightest point of his life two years ago and she, once again, was the most pleasant part of his life now.

“Oh, I know how much work there is to do,”

Aria explained. “I kept the books for Percival Shipping before we could afford staff. I chose suppliers and cargo before we had a warehouse. And now, I am expected to fan myself at musicales and dinner parties, because that is what my time is worth.”

“It is a privilege that I wish to bestow upon you. Are you bored? Surely you can find something to occupy yourself,”

Roland said and immediately saw that it was the wrong thing to say. For the life of him, he could not reconcile this woman with the girl that tittered at poor jests at soirees.

“Occupying my time is not the same as investing my time. You, apparently, cannot fathom the difference, so you will escort us to the park at half of eleven, yes?”

Aria said icily.

Roland gave in. Perhaps he could perform this one task correctly in her eyes.

“Naturally, sister. I will be waiting for you in the foyer,”

Roland said. Aria nodded sharply, pocketed her deck of cards, and took her plate. She turned to one of the footmen. He may be their only footman.

“Harvey, please bring a tray to my room. Sage will be meeting me there,”

Aria ordered airily and quit the room.

Roland looked down at his toast, which was currently not blaming him for some fault he could never be forgiven for. Then Tristan trotted through the door, not quite steady on his feet, and snatched up a piece of toast.

“I saw the most uproarious event last night, brother,”

Tristan announced, throwing his hands up dramatically. Roland stared at his little brother, nonplussed by yet another mystifying family issue. Tristan was still dressed in the previous evening’s unripe pear ensemble and chewed enthusiastically on toast, dropping crumbs all over the floor.

“Have you been to bed?”

Roland asked.

“No, whyever for?”

Tristan asked blankly. Roland sipped his coffee in lieu of a sigh.

“I cannot fathom what you would find uproarious. Did a debutante’s dress fall off?”

he asked. Tristan snorted.

“Can you imagine the fiasco that would be? Everyone would be obliged to marry her and there would be no eligible bachelors left in London. No, no, no.”

Tristan loaded a fork with sausage and eggs directly from the sideboard.

Roland hated his brother sometimes, not only when he gambled away his allowance or forgot about his sister. Tristan ate with gusto and entitlement, as if not months ago he was starving in prison, sentenced to be hanged. If only Roland could put away near-death experiences so competently.

“We own plates,”

Roland said. “You can sit down and eat.”

“Oh, no, if I sit, I may not rise again. I shall break my fast and off to bed. About last night,”

Tristan started.

“You and I are scheduled to review the shipping accounts from last month together this morning. Then our sister has prevailed upon us to chaperone her to the park,”

Roland said.

“As delightfully dull as that all sounds, no, thank you. I have not been to bed and I have no interest in shipping accounts,”

Tristan said around a mouthful of sausage.

“The company was under your name,”

Roland pointed out.

“And all profits are deposited directly into the estate account of the Viscount Schofield. Said account is accessible only by the Viscount and Viscountess Schofield. Cress is sailing with her highwayman lover and you, dear brother, hold the title and all our funds,”

Tristan said icily, suddenly sober and serious. “Yes, my name was on the company but I signed the transfer of ownership last month, or did you think I didn’t read contracts?”

Roland was quiet. He had not thought Tristan had read what he had signed.

“I cannot imagine what it is like to have someone assume a title you thought was yours. I am sorry you are feeling displaced, but you are my brother, and I do care for you,”

Roland said. Tristan snorted.

“If you have to say it, then it wasn’t obvious to start. This is yours, Roland. My life, my house, my money, my family, it’s all yours. Just take it and leave me be,”

Tristan said hollowly.

“Leave you to grieve? Is that what this all is? You have been acting the child for months.”

“Am I not allowed my bereavement?”

“Yes, but don’t wallow in it. You still have responsibilities and a role.”

“Hear me: no, thank you. This all can be yours, as it should have been to start with. Never mind that I had done your job for a whole decade.”

Tristan paced a bit, not seeming to know what to do with himself.

“You almost killed our sister,”

Roland said. “I should enlist you in the navy.”

“Surely you would buy me a commission,”

Tristan said, somewhat interested.

“That would teach you exactly nothing.”

“You are not being fair.”

“And you’re not being serious. Do you even care that your actions almost ruined our sisters, our family? Can you even fathom the consequences?”

“Of course I can,”

Tristan snapped back, “but you came back. You’re the hero of the hour. How am I ever to redeem myself in the shadow of such a sterling paragon?”

“I am not a paragon.”

“On that, brother, we are well agreed.”

“You are a Darewood. There is no force majeure in the world keeping you from being a man. It is you. You insist on remaining a child. That time is done.”

Roland rose up, reaching for his paper and coffee cup.

“Never fret, one and all. The good Darewood brother hath returneth! He will save us all, though he had disappeared, without a word, for the past decade. We will forget that little fact and focus on his presence. Bask, ladies, bask!”

Tristan turned dramatically and tripped over his feet.

Roland attempted to save him, earning himself a fist in the eye instead. Roland staggered back, cursing.

“I’m fine,”

Tristan grunted, staggering away. “I’m fine!”

Roland watched his brother leave and felt a lead weight grow inside. Then he went to ready himself for the park.

****

Sabina tilted her hat back to soak in the last of the morning sun, willing the sunrays to blast her headache away. For some obscene reason, London only seemed sunny in the morning and spent the rest of the day covered in clouds. Perhaps it was due to winter or the city itself, which always smelled a little spoilt, but she would enjoy this last bit of sun before she was starved for light for the rest of winter.

The park was lovely, likely the last sunny day of November. They were dressed in warm cloaks and hats to combat the cold. There would be snow the week after, Sabina knew it in her bones. Sabina had been having them driving past the park for several days in order to firmly establish what was most in fashion and she had kitted the twins out appropriately.

The twins ambled along the promenade, holding themselves carefully. On the estate in the country, the girls had complete freedom of movement. There, they had the run of the estate.

They would need more polish before entering society. Sabina knew they were well-capable of it, but bringing the duke around was a complicated and time-consuming process.

The duke was a puzzle in and of himself. Most men of his position had their staff vet further staff positions such as hers much more carefully. Instead, Verdon had seemed quite content to let his sisters choose their own governess.

She was most grateful. The school had been a safe haven but the new administration had been keen to bring in instructors with much more burnished resumes than hers.

If she was being honest with herself, she was not well-qualified for the employment she had been given. Sabina had never been in Society as an adult. She remembered bits and pieces from watching her mother prepare, but that had been on the continent and in a different language.

Fortunately, Sabina’s education was beyond reproach and her time with Lady Cosgrove had been illuminating. She could teach the girls to appeal to a man’s vanity but that would betray the young ladies themselves.

Sabina knew she was missing key components to the twins’ education but a society that valued a woman’s ability to embroider over the breadth of her education and interest in the world around her was a society that valued the wrong aspect of women.

“Mrs. Kembrooke!”

Sabina turned at the exclamation and smiled. Two of her former students waved as they approached. Lady Ariadne Darewood practically skipped forward to hug her old teacher. Lady Sage Amleigh followed at a more sedate pace but her embrace was no less warm.

And there he was, the instigator of her distraction and the main actor of her fantasies.

Roland gallantly touched his hat brim to the twins, who barely acknowledged him before turning to the more interesting members of their group, the two debutantes who were in the Society they would soon join.

Sabina noted the difference in the way the girls carried themselves and resolved that they should spend more time together.

She turned to the guardian of her exemplars and forgot her mission. Dash it all, Roland was beautiful in the sun, and he was pleased to see her.

He was pleased to see her.

****

Roland was pleased to see her, even with the unnecessary spectacles, he realized. It had been a horrible day already and he was eager to forget it. Sabina was quite possibly the only thing from his past that he had any wish to revisit.

“Sister, I have not been introduced,”

Roland said, his eyes on Sabina.

“Oh, of course,”

Aria said. “Brother, I’d like to introduce you to Ladies Isolde and Lady Lenoir Villiers, sisters to the duke of Verdon. They had come to the school during our last year. Ladies, this is my brother, Viscount Schofield. Oh, and Mrs. Kembrooke was a teacher at our school.”

“My lord,”

the twins curtseyed to him in a chorus.

“We kidnapped Mrs. Kembrooke from the school before we left,”

the blonde twin said.

“We needed a governess and we liked Mrs. Kembrooke the best,”

the dark-haired twin said. For being twins, they looked absolutely nothing alike.

“My ladies,”

Roland said. “Mrs. Kembrooke.”

Roland savored the syllables of the name he knew did not belong to her, but the girls were already distracted in each other to notice.

“My lord,”

Sabina said, bobbing appropriately. She did not smile but her eyes sparkled behind the spectacles. He was grateful for one person who did not view his presence with disdain or anger. “I have not seen you at the park before.”

“I do believe this is my first time here in some months. I come when my sister insists.”

“Such a shame. We could have made your acquaintance sooner,”

Sabina said. Roland noted that she kept an eye on not only her charges, but her surroundings. He watched the way she took the measure of every person in their vicinity and wondered what on earth could be of such interest to her. The members of the Ton were so similar, almost interchangeable.

Roland became abruptly aware of an awkward silence and several pair of feminine eyes on him. He blinked at the gaggle of women around him.

“Why were you staring at Sabina?”

Aria hissed.

“I wasn’t. I was woolgathering. Mrs. Kembrooke was in my way,”

Roland said then winced. Sabina bit her lip against a grin.

“God’s tits, has your mind gone completely to market?”

Aria hissed. Roland pursed his lips at his sister’s curse.

“I am not so senile yet, Princess,”

Roland said.

“Don’t listen to this one, ladies,”

Aria stage-whispered to the Villiers twins. “He is ancient. One wonders where he misplaced his walking stick.”

“I’ll have you know that I am nine and twenty, Princess Ariadne,”

Roland said sternly.

“Why do you call her that?”

Sage asked curiously.

“The first time Aria her the story of Theseus and the Minotaur she was first, completely outraged that her namesake had not slain the Minotaur herself, but was instead a supporting character in the story. And second, she decided the most interesting character in the story was the Minotaur and in order to avoid calling her Miss Minotaur for the rest of our lives, she agreed to only be addressed as Princess Ariadne,”

Roland explained.

“I was four years old,”

Aria exclaimed over the giggles.

“A most precocious four-year-old, I don’t believe I have ever heard of,”

Isolde said and laughed.

“It stands to reason, does it not?”

Lenoir said. “Considering the way she ran the bet…”

“I say, what a lovely day,”

Sage interrupted hurriedly. “Shall we not stroll?”

“Yes, let’s do,”

Aria said, taking Lenoir by the arm with a look Roland did not miss.

“Shall we walk by the Porpentine?”

Roland suggested, seeking a way to be by Sabina’s side.

“Serpentine,”

Sabina corrected softly.

“Fine,”

Roland said in distraction. “A minute, I have a better idea,”

Roland said abruptly. “My ladies, let me be your escort this fine autumn day.”