Rescued By A Wicked Baron (Extended Epilogue) Read online

  Rescued by a Wicked Baron Extended Epilogue

  Extended Epilogue

  Two Years Later

  Catherine stood outside the entrance to Newgate Prison, Patrick’s arm tight around her shoulder. She watched the gate for any sign of her brother.

  Standing there, pressed against her husband, she was taken back to a time when her world had felt as though it were in pieces, a time when Patrick Connolly had held her in his arms and made her feel as though everything would somehow be all right.

  She thought of walking through the city on his arm, thought of the intensity in his eyes as he had told her of his father’s debts. Thought of her impulsive kiss outside the King’s Wardrobe.

  She smiled to herself. Afterwards, she had been utterly mortified.

  Patrick squeezed her fingers. “What are you thinking about?”

  Catherine gave him a small smile. “Just of you.”

  Her attention was drawn back to the gate by a slim figure making his way toward them.

  Robert.

  He was squinting in the sunlight, his head drooped and his shoulders curled. He looked as though he were trying to disappear into the earth.

  When the customs officials had intercepted Simon Moore’s smuggling run two years earlier, George Thorne and the tattooed man, along with the rest of the syndicate had faced the courts. In exchange for a reduced sentence, Robert had helped the authorities in their attempts to dismantle both the smuggling ring and the Red Queen, along with several other gambling dens hidden among the shadows in Seven Dials.

  And so now, here Robert was, edging out into a life of freedom and looking more than a little uncertain about it.

  Catherine rushed forward and pulled him into a tight embrace. It didn’t matter what he had done. It didn’t matter what he had said; she knew what it was to feel so rattled and scared. She had been helped out of it by love and support. And she would give her brother the same.

  He squeezed her tightly. “Catherine,” he said huskily. “Thank you for being here.”

  She stepped back. “Of course. We’d not let you do this alone.”

  Robert accepted Patrick’s handshake. “Thank you, Lord Ramshay.”

  “It’s Patrick,” he said. “We’re family, remember?”

  Robert managed a faint smile. “Of course.” He wrapped his arms around himself, his eyes darting as they took in the city. In the early morning, the streets were quiet. The windows of the nearby tavern were dark, a single coach clattering by. Outside the jail, the guards stood squinting into the light, watching them with disinterest.

  Catherine took her brother’s arm. “This way. We have a cab waiting.”

  ***

  Later that morning, Catherine made her way upstairs to the nursery. Her ten-month-old son, James, was on the floor beside his nurse, thrashing a wooden rattle in the air and shrieking happily at the sound.

  Catherine laughed. “He seems to be enjoying his new toy.”

  James’s nurse spun around at the sound of her voice. “I think so, My Lady,” she said with a smile. “He’s barely let go of it all morning.”

  Catherine scooped the baby from the floor and kissed him on the cheek. “There’s someone very important you need to meet,” she told him, smoothing his dark hair back from his face.

  She went along the hall to the room she and Patrick had set aside for Robert. She tapped lightly on the door.

  “Robert?” she called gently. “May I come in?”

  She heard the floor creak. Her brother pulled open the door.

  Catherine smiled. He had washed and changed into the clean clothes she had left on the bed for him. His skin had been scrubbed clean of its layer of filth, and his dark hair was wet and smooth. She caught a faint waft of ash soap. The sight of him brought a warmth to Catherine’s chest. For the first time in years, she could see a glimpse of the man Robert used to be.

  She shifted James in her arms. “Your nephew would like to meet you,” she told him with a smile.

  At the sight of the baby, Robert’s lips parted. “He’s beautiful,” he told Catherine huskily. “He looks like you.”

  She smiled. “Would you like to hold him?”

  Robert hesitated. “I’m not

  I

  ”

  “Here.” Catherine thrust the baby into her brother’s arms, laughing as Robert’s eyes widened in shock.

  James eyed his uncle with interest, planting a pudgy hand in the middle of Robert’s face.

  Catherine grinned. “I think he likes you.”

  Robert chuckled. He carried his nephew across the room and sat heavily on the edge of the window seat.

  Catherine sat beside him, taking the baby from his arms. “How do you feel?” she asked gently.

  “I’m all right. At least I think I am. Being back in the real world again

  It’s something of an odd feeling.” Robert drew in a long breath, his blue eyes growing serious. “Thank you, Catherine,” he said. “For all of this. For taking me in as you have. I appreciate it more than you could know. I’ll see myself back on my feet as soon as I can. Be out of your way as soon as possible.”

  She shook her head dismissively. “You’re my brother, Robert. You’ll stay as long as you need.” She smiled. “You’ll get to know James.”

  Robert laced his fingers together. “You would have been well within your rights to leave me to fend for myself after all I put you through.”

  Catherine shook her head. She didn’t want bitterness, or some miserable attempt at retribution. She wanted that relationship with her brother she had had when they were teenagers. Wanted him to be someone she could turn to, someone she could rely on.

  Is such a thing still possible?

  Yes, she felt sure of it. Robert had made mistakes of course, plenty of them. But he had also proved to Catherine that, hiding somewhere beneath that brittle exterior, he had more than a little strength and decency. In the man sitting beside her now, she saw a flicker of the boy she had grown up racing across the garden with.

  She sat James on the floor as he began to wriggle in her arms, smiling as he grabbed a fistful of her skirts and tried to pull himself into standing.

  She turned back to her brother. “You will come to Edmund’s wedding tomorrow, won’t you, Robert?”

  He lowered his eyes. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I’d truly be welcome.”

  “Nonsense. You’re family. Of course you’re welcome.”

  “I’ve done terrible things, Catherine,” he sighed. “Made dreadful mistakes. Sullied our family name and lost everything we had.”

  “You also did some very brave things,” Catherine reminded him. “You risked your life by exposing Simon Moore. You took to the stand to bring down the Red Queen. No one has forgotten that.”

  “I feel as though every eye in the place will be on me the moment I step through the door. Everyone will be asking themselves how I could have dared show my face.”

  Catherine covered his hand with hers. “I understand,” she said. ‘Truly. And you’re right. It won’t be easy. But you can choose not to notice them. I learned a long time ago that gossip loses its power the moment you cease to pay attention to it.”

  Robert squeezed her hand. “I’m so sorry for all I put you through. The worthlessness I made you feel. The danger I put you in.”

  Catherine smiled. “Don’t be. All those dreadful things that happened led me to the man I love.”

  ***

  Downstairs, Edmund had appeared on the doorstep with his boxing mufflers in hand.

  “No,” Patrick chuckled. “Not a chance. If I deliver you to the altar black and blue, your wife-to-be will never forgive me.” He grinned. “Nor will your mother.”

  “Come on, Ramshay. I’ve been pr
acticing. You’ll not get a single blow in.”

  Patrick gave a snort of laughter.

  Edmund looked at him pleadingly. “I seem to have rather a lot of nervous energy,” he admitted. “And it needs getting rid of.”

  Patrick laughed. “After all your adventures, Featherstone, you’re not truly frightened of getting married, are you?”

  Edmund grimaced. “Terrified.”

  Patrick smiled to himself. Edmund had met the Duke of Hartwell’s daughter, Harriet, at the beginning of the season and had spoken of little else since. Falling in love, Edmund had admitted, had been far more terrifying than venturing into the depths of Seven Dials.

  It had been a delight to see Edmund find a wife he cared for as much as Patrick loved Catherine. Tomorrow, it would be an honor to stand beside Edmund Spicer as his best man. But to hell if he was going to let the man go charging around the boxing ring on his wedding eve.

  Patrick looked at him squarely. “No boxing,” he said firmly. He clapped him over the shoulder. “The coffee house. Come on.”

  ***

  They pulled up two chairs at one of the long tables stretching across the coffee house. Patrick sipped from his cup, the strong, nutty taste making him wince in the most pleasant of ways.

  He tried not to look at the empty chair beside him. Even after two years, he still felt the sting of it.

  After Simon’s death, Edmund and Patrick had spent many hours together, trying to make sense of all that had transpired. There were years of lies and betrayal to work their way through.

  “Do you suppose he was always that man?” Patrick asked as they hunched over their glasses at the Grand Hotel, speaking in low, secretive voices. The revelation of who Simon Moore was had made it difficult for either of them to trust. “That depraved, unbalanced criminal? Do you suppose the entire time we knew him, he was smuggling and gambling and killing?”

  Edmund sighed deeply. “We’ll never know. And I don’t think we’ll ever truly understand.”

  They sipped their drinks in silence.

  “I felt a fool,” Edmund admitted. “I felt as though I ought to have seen it. How could we have been friends for so many years and have had no thought of who Ayton truly was?”

  Patrick nodded silently. He had had similar thoughts at first. Thoughts that had felt achingly similar to the way his father had made him feel; foolish, ignorant, blind.

  No, he had told himself. This is not a reflection on me.

  No longer would he let the actions of immoral people bring him down.

  He was a good and decent man. Catherine had taught him that.

  Two years later, he still felt the sting of the empty chair, but he knew far better than to let the memory of Simon Moore rattle him.

  A speaker was making his way to front of the coffee house. He was dressed in a patched purple frock coat and voluminous yellow breeches.

  “I’m sure this fellow will have a few interesting things to say.” Patrick grinned at Edmund. “Perhaps he’ll even take your mind off the terrors of your upcoming trip down the aisle.”

  ***

  “Oh Catherine, Patrick

  ” Aunt Cornelia flapped her way across the ballroom, draped in layer after layer of silver silk. “Wasn’t that just the most divine of weddings?” Her eyes shone with happiness.

  Catherine grinned. “It was so beautiful, Aunt. Edmund and Harriet look so happy.”

  Aunt Cornelia pressed a hand to her chest dramatically. “My goodness, what a mess he was this morning. Charging about the house like a chicken who’d lost his head. I never thought we’d get him to the church in one piece.” Her eyes lit at the sight of someone on the other side of the ballroom. She flapped a hand at them excitedly. She spun around to face Catherine and Patrick again. “I must speak with the Duchess,” she breathed, kissing them both on the cheek. “See you enjoy the rest of the day, now.”

  Patrick smiled as Aunt Cornelia swept across the ballroom. “I’m exhausted just watching her,” he laughed. He nodded toward the terrace. “Shall we?”

  The afternoon was warm and hazy, the sky streaked with white. The scent of freshly-cut grass rose up to meet them on the terrace.

  Patrick gripped the railing and looked out over the manicured expanse of the garden. “How do you think Robert is faring?”

  Catherine’s brother had been reserved and withdrawn for much of the day, but when Patrick had last seen him, he had been entrenched in conversation with the Earl of Wilmont.

  “It will take him some time, I think,” Catherine admitted. “But he seems to be coping.” She smiled. “He will survive, I’m sure. Rebuild his life again.”

  “Of course he will.” Patrick kissed the edge of Catherine’s ear.

  How he admired the way she had handled her brother’s return. After all he had put her through, Patrick knew a lesser person might easily have cast him aside, left him to crawl alone through the wreckage of his life. But Catherine had been determined to see her brother safely back into the world. Determined for their son to know his uncle.

  “He’s very lucky to have you,” he said, standing behind her and wrapping his arms around her. She was warm in his arms. Patrick caught the faint scent of lavender and felt a faint stirring of desire.

  “Once,” said Catherine with a playful smile. “I ran away from a place like this to see the man I love.”

  Patrick chuckled. “Yes, I seem to remember.” He ran his fingers gently over the bare skin on her arm. “Why did you do it?” he asked. “You could so easily have been seen. Why risk it?”

  Catherine leaned her head against his shoulder. “Because being at the ball made me feel like an outcast. And you made me feel so worthy.” She turned to face him. “You always do.”

  Yes, he felt the same. With Catherine in his life, the memories of who his father was and what he had done had begun to fade away. The former Baron of Ramshay had no place in his thoughts, beyond being a reminder of all the things Patrick never wanted to be for James. With Catherine in his life, Patrick was able to see his own intelligence, his own worth. Was able to see that he was a man who ought to be taken seriously.

  He kissed her neck and she let out a soft sigh of pleasure. Patrick’s lips turned up against her warm skin. He loved that he could elicit such a reaction from her with such a tiny, insignificant gesture.

  “Take me home,” she breathed. “I want you.”

  He grinned. “How can I turn down such a request?”

  He held his lips to hers for a moment, then offered her his arm to accompany her from the terrace.

  Home, yes. Today was the first of the month. And tonight he would hold his wife in his arms, and not fear that knock at the door. Tonight, like every other night since the Red Queen had been torn apart by the authorities, home would be a safe place. Tonight, the night would belong only to them.

  The End

 

 

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