Rogues, Rakes & Jewels

“No … no …” Jewels stopped him with a hand to his chest. “Do not—”

“Sweetheart, you misunderstand—”

“No … you are being kind, but I do understand … and you don’t know me.” She shook her head. “You were very right to take me … there on the beach … for I behaved the tart, and you had cause then to think me so, but it is worse than that … I have done some awful things …” Jewels suddenly saw every naughty thing she had ever done pass before her eyes and put a fist to her lips to stop the cry about to escape there. How could she try and win this man’s heart when he didn’t really know what she had done … and what was worse, when she still felt that he had bedded her and then flirted outrageously with Babette?

“No!” she screamed and pushed him away. She couldn’t tell him now and watch him leave—not now when he had been so caring. She would tell him later … when she gathered some strength. She ran from him, feeling as though her heart would never mend …

*

Ryker left Elizabeth’s mother, Mrs. Debbs, open-mouthed and not at all certain how she was supposed to take his startling news. He on the other hand was well pleased with the outcome of their meeting.

It was a disturbing matter that had now been attended to, and he sighed with relief over it. Now, how to handle Jewelene?

He had thought about marching into Jewelene’s bedroom and setting her straight, but he had an absurd desire to have her confess her sins to him first. He had thought earlier that she would do just that, but instead she had fled him. He had let her go. She was confused and emotional, and he did not think trying to talk to her at that moment would serve. Besides, he thought it was time she confessed to him. However, he was willing to give her a bit more time to do so, for he desperately wanted her to open her heart to him and trust him.

She had some growing up to do. In spite of the fact that she had shouldered the problems of her father leaving them in doubtful circumstances, she was still a child, feeling her way about. He liked the child in her. He adored the woman and her spirit and was fairly certain that life without her in it would no longer be desirable. Damn, he just couldn’t be without her.

He arrived at the White Stag and handed the horse he had borrowed (his own had been too fatigued to make another mile) from the Henshaw stables to a livery boy. He then marched up the wide steps, entered the crowded parlor, and searched around for his cousin. He saw him having a jolly good time with a group of men his own age at a nearby round table.

They were all waving tankards of ale and lost to song. Ryker’s brow went up with amusement, and though he was loathe to interrupt Robby’s fun, he had no choice. Matters needed attention, and he could not be in two places at the same time.

Everyone was in high spirits as they discussed the upcoming pugilism match, and he was mildly distracted to hear one gentleman tell his cousin, “I say Jackson will whip anyone they put against him …”

“Aye,” agreed Robby. “Never saw such a bruiser … fact is, none peal like Jackson …” He spied Ryker and put up a welcoming hand. “There you are. What say you, Rye?”

“Agreed, none come close to Gentleman Jackson, and that is a fact,” Ryker said, taking his cousin’s hand and pulling him up from his seat. “Now, sweetheart … off we go.”

“Go … go where …”

“I’ll explain along the way. We have a blackguard in our midst, and the situation needs attention.”

“Well, upon my word … don’t that beat all. Came to the Isle to relax … and instead, find this the busiest island I have ever encountered. What with French faro girls, and pugilism matches, and last night, Rye … there was a cock fight! The gray won, and I’m happy to tell you that they stopped it before the gray killed the red, but what’s that you say about a blackguard?”

“Come along, cousin, and I shall tell you where I have been and what I have been doing and what we must do next.”

“Upon my soul,” Robby answered, intr

igued.

*

Dora Debbs knocked softly at her daughter’s door. Their talk earlier had told her naught, other than Elizabeth was miserable. Dora had quite made up her mind to it: if Ben Clay was who her daughter wanted, then so she should have him. Dora was not going to stand in their way with the same objections her father had made about her own dear husband before he consented to their marriage. Besides, her meeting with Ryker had cleared up the situation for her.

Perhaps her daughter would be as happy with Ben Clay as she had been with Elizabeth’s father? Dora smiled to herself. Her marriage had not kept her in finery, but they had been so in love and had such a good life together.

No answer, and so she knocked again and heard a sniff on the other side of the door. “I can’t talk now, Jewels … maybe later.”

“It isn’t Jewels, dear …” answered her mother.

She heard her daughter sigh resignedly and felt a moment’s hurt, and then her girl said, “Yes, Mama … of course … do come in.”

Dora went to her immediately. She sat on the bed where Elizabeth lay and stroked her head. “What is it, dear? Is this all for Ben?” She thought her daughter was distressed in the belief she would not consent to an engagement between them.

Lizzie sat up and stared at her mother. “What do you mean? What do you know?”

“Know? Why … I know very little … but I can’t have you miserable like this. I had hoped that you and Robby … but, as it turns out, he is not—well, never mind that now. As it happens, the marquis will set things straight soon, but …” She sighed heavily. “What I am trying to tell you is that I do not hold any hope of you and the marquis making a match of it. Thus, if it is Ben Clay you wish to marry … so be it.”

Elizabeth looked thunderstruck, but then instead of throwing her arms around her mother and thanking her profusely (which is what her mother expected), she threw herself onto her pillow and wailed as though she had just received a final blow.