Rescued By A Rake: A Regency Christmas Novella Read online

  Rescued By A Rake

  Regency Christmas Novella

  Wendy Vella

  Contents

  Rescued By A Rake

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Seduced By A Devil

  Wendy’s Books

  About the Author

  Rescued By A Rake

  By Wendy Vella

  From USA Today bestselling author Wendy Vella comes a Christmas novella about a feisty, opinionated Miss and a devilishly handsome rake who find love when they least expect it!

  Miss Ivy Redfern’s life is thrown into turmoil when her brother disappears five days before Christmas, and with him her family’s funds. Determined to find Jackson, she seeks help from his old school friend. Mr. Haddon is everything Ivy is not: popular, socially connected and devilishly handsome! Ivy vows her association with him will achieve only one thing – her brother’s release – and there will be absolutely no chance she will fall in love with him, unlike the other simpering society ladies.

  When Rory Haddon agrees to help Ivy Redfern he is determined to do so his own way. She’s feisty, bookish and opinionated, and is equally determined to question his every move. To his complete surprise, he is soon captivated by her intelligence, gentle beauty and utter disregard for his rakish charm. When he realizes Ivy’s life is also in danger, Rory will do whatever it takes to keep her safe, because she is his future. Ivy is just unaware of that yet.

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  May you never be too grown-up to search the skies on Christmas Eve!

  Chapter One

  Mr. Rory Haddon knew that Miss Arantxa Redfern was following him. There were two reasons for this conclusion. The first, because when he left the concert, she’d followed, and second, he’d tested his assumption by wandering up and down floors and in and out of rooms. She’d followed a discreet distance away, but he knew she was there, just not why.

  He and his family were attending the Waddell Christmas concert, an amateur production that was extremely painful on the ears. Lord Waddell’s youngest son was hopeless on the violin, and his daughter often sounded like a knife scraping against a plate when she attempted to sing a high note.

  However, one thing the Waddell townhouse did have that others didn’t was a splendid view of London high on the fourth floor. A turret room, so that was where he was heading, slowly, with Miss Redfern on his heels. He’d visited this vantage point last season with a friend who had a particular interest in astronomy. Lord Waddell had told Rory he was welcome back there anytime he was in the vicinity.

  There was to be a short intermission before the next round of torture downstairs, so Rory had taken the opportunity to wander. Like many attending, this would be his family’s last function before leaving London for Greyton, their estate, for the colder months and Christmas festivities.

  Opening the door that led up, he did not pause or look over his shoulder. Would she follow? Perhaps she’d wait at the bottom? Rory didn’t care. He wanted the ice-cold blast of air he’d get up here. The ballroom where the concert was held had been stuffy, with fires roaring and perfumed guests; plus there was Wilimenia Willoughby and her noxious mother. Both seemed to have come to the conclusion he would make a fine member of their family. Rory would rather become a monk.

  He climbed slowly. Surely, she would not follow him up here—unless she didn’t know where he was going? Reaching the top, he opened the door and stepped out into the frigid night air. Inhaling, he turned left and took the narrow path that led around the roof line, just far enough away from the door so that if Miss Redfern did appear, he could stop her from leaving before he questioned her. And he would question her, because before today he’d spoken no more than a handful of words with her, and they’d been polite greetings or exchanges about the weather.

  Moving back so he was near the roof, he waited and watched. Before him lay the city of London. Sprinkles of light told him the lamps had been lit. It was a magical view, and one he doubted anyone would tire of.

  Rory heard the door open because it made a small squeaking sound, then saw a shadowy form appear.

  “Good evening, Miss Redfern. Pleasant night for a walk around the turret, wouldn’t you say? Although perhaps a trifle chilly. The fog seems to have eased just for us. You can see a great deal of London from all sides. Some even say it is the best of all views.”

  She stood still; so motionless she looked like a statue. A few feet from where Rory was, she had yet to so much as squeak. Her dress had long sleeves, but had to be cold, as she wore only a light scarf and evening gloves.

  “Perhaps I can escort you around the sphere, as Lord Waddell calls it?”

  “No.”

  “But as you sought me out, you must wish for my company?” Rory wasn’t about to make it easier on her. It was highly inappropriate for a young woman to behave this way. If someone found them here alone together, the assumptions would be far from accurate or pleasant for either of them. “Come now, Miss Redfern, what is it you want from me?” Rory moved closer, his intent to see her expression. “Because I have never been a man to enjoy the attentions of a woman I have no wish to pursue.”

  She reared back as if he’d struck her. A small, mousy woman, with a narrow pointy face and lips that were usually clamped in a line, she had never struck him as anything but a timid creature who hid around the edges of society functions, yet here she was, still following him.

  “I have no wish to pursue you, sir.”

  “If that is indeed the case, then why have you done so with relentless determination for the entire evening?”

  “In that you are correct.”

  “I know.”

  “But it is not because I wish a dalliance of any kind with you, Mr. Haddon.”

  He didn’t know what to say to that. Her tone had been dismissive, as if he was not worth dallying with, which was of course a direct hit to his pride. Not that Rory was overly boastful or believed he was a touch above anyone, but still. No one liked to hear they were not worthy of a dalliance, especially when there were plenty of women in the rooms below them that would disagree.

  “Then what do you wish, Miss Redfern? Because while the view out here is unparalleled, there is no doubting the cold will soon numb our extremities. I have a jacket. You, however, have very little to protect you from the elements.”

  “It is a delicate matter. I must have your word you will not speak of this to anyone.” She didn’t stomp her feet, which must be going numb, or rub her arms, just stood there looking at him, unmoving.

  Her voice wasn’t displeasing; actually, it had a nice pitch to it, unlike some. Wilimenia Willoughby slipped into his head. The woman could cut glass when she spoke.

  “I cannot promise that, as I have no idea what you are about to disclose.”

  She made a little huffing sound.

  “Well?” He wasn’t normally rude, but it was getting colder the longer he stood still. He could imagine how she was feeling, dressed in substantially less.

  “You went to Eton with my brother, I believe?”

  “I did.” In fact, Jackson Redfern had been a close friend, and they’d gotten up to no end of trouble together. They’d drifted ap
art when their school days ended and not mixed in the same circles since. They always acknowledged each other and talked in passing, but the schoolboy bond had severed.

  “It is Jackson I wish to speak to you about.”

  “I have not seen him this season. Where is he?”

  She hesitated, then her eyes turned to look at the view.

  “I’m waiting, Miss Redfern.”

  “This is not easy for me to speak of. I am attempting to form my words.”

  “Just speak them in whatever form they take, then we can get back inside before we become ice sculptures.”

  She shot him a look, and he saw the frown on her face.

  “I fear my brother is in trouble, Mr. Haddon. In fact, I know he is.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “He has fallen in with nefarious individuals who are holding him against his will.”

  “Nefarious?” Rory tried to recall if Jackson had ever said anything about his sister having a flair for drama.

  “Yes. He has been missing for two weeks now, and I have failed to ascertain his exact whereabouts.”

  “I’m sorry, but I still don’t understand why you are seeking me out, Miss Redfern?” He was completely at sea.

  “Jackson said once there were not many people in the world he trusted, but you were one of them. He said you were honorable, as was your family, and if there was ever a time he needed someone to turn to, it would be you.”

  “He said all of that?”

  She nodded.

  “Considering that was many years ago, Miss Redfern, I am impressed that you remembered the conversation so concisely.”

  “I have a very good memory.”

  “Excellent,” Rory said, because he wasn’t sure how else to reply to that. “We have now established my outstanding character and that you did not follow me up here to secure my attentions. What, pray tell, is it you want from me?”

  “This is not amusing, Mr. Haddon. This is serious, and I have gr-grave concerns for my brother.”

  He heard the stutter but wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or tears. He sincerely hoped it was the first.

  “Forgive me, I did not mean to make light of the situation, but I still fail to see why you have sought me out.”

  “I need your help.” The words were spoken in a somber tone. “I have no one else to turn to.”

  “To help you find Jackson?”

  She nodded again.

  “Miss Redfern, I am unsure what it is I can do? Surely there is a friend or family member better suited to aid you in your search? Your brother and I have been no more than nodding acquaintances for some time.”

  “I have no family besides an elderly aunt. Our parents passed a few years ago.”

  “You have my condolences.”

  She waved his words away with the flick of a wrist. “I visited Bastil’s gambling establishment to see if he was there—”

  “I beg your pardon; you are not telling me you actually visited that establishment?”

  “Of course I did. How can I find my brother if I do not look?”

  “You are a young woman of noble birth! Surely you cannot have been so foolish as to step foot inside? Good God, you would have been ruined had anyone recognized you.”

  She flicked out her fingers, dismissing his words again, which tweaked his temper. Rory never liked to be dismissed. His brother told him it was because he was the middle child.

  “You do realize what could have happened had you been found or mistaken for someone else?”

  Who was supposed to be looking after this woman? Surely there was someone other than her brother and aunt watching over her.

  “Who?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Who would I have been mistaken for?”

  “Someone who frequents such places,” Rory said, feeling uncomfortable to be mentioning this to a young, innocent woman.

  “Women of the night, do you mean? Ladies who make their money hawking their wares to whoever is interested. Women who—”

  “Yes, yes, I take your meaning.” Rory could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. “A woman such as yourself should not speak of things.”

  “A woman of noble birth who was raised with food on her table and soft bedding, do you mean? A woman who has never had to struggle for—”

  “You must be extremely challenging to live with.”

  “Because I am aware of more than the end of my nose, do you mean, Mr. Haddon?”

  “And I repeat, challenging to live with.”

  “It’s true that if I have something to say, I will say it. But I do not find it a fault; indeed it is a strength in my character.”

  “Said no one but you, I’m sure, Miss Redfern.”

  “But to set your mind at rest, I disguised myself so no one would recognize me,” she added as if he had not spoken.

  Rory had only ever given this woman a passing glance, taken no time to discuss anything more than the weather with her, and yet he had to admit, if only to himself, she was suddenly intriguing him. Not many of her standing would speak as she was or stand up to him.

  Folding his arms, he waited for what next would come out of her mouth, as clearly something would.

  Chapter Two

  Ivy tried not to shiver as she looked at the large nobleman standing a few feet away from her. Jackson liked this man very much and once had been his closest friend. In those days she’d trusted her brother’s judgement; that was no longer the case.

  “Yes, well, I am not one to mince words, sir.” Her teeth would start chattering soon, it was so cold. She longed for the cloak she’d handed over upon her arrival.

  “I can see that.”

  He was tall like his elder brother the earl, but his hair was lighter. Not black or brown, but somewhere in the middle. The ends brushed his collar and curled up at the back, which he likely did not realize, but she did as she’d been watching him all evening. Her and plenty of the other women present.

  Ivy had deliberately ushered her aunt into the seats one row behind Mr. Haddon and his family for the concert, hoping she could speak with him. The opportunity had not presented itself. She’d watched him laugh with his family; they interacted with the familiarity of those who loved each other very much. Ivy had swallowed down the pain of the memory that she and Jackson had once been like that.

  When he got up to leave the room, she followed, at a discreet distance of course.

  He had a strong face, according to Lady Brookvale, who had told Ivy’s aunt once that she’d thought him an excellent catch for any young woman, even if he had rakish tendencies as many young men tended too. Her eyes had rested on Ivy when she was saying those words.

  “I have followed my brother’s footsteps for the past two weeks, Mr. Haddon. He has not once returned to the house, but has visited the rooms of a friend, and this is where I confronted him. At the time he was extremely agitated and only said he would take care of whatever it is that is troubling him.”

  “You went to a man’s rooms?”

  “I did, and it had to be done, so please halt any further recriminations regarding my right to be there or what it would do to my reputation, Mr. Haddon. It is of no consequence to me.”

  “No consequence? Are you quite mad? It’s of every consequence. You will not find a husband if your reputation is sullied.”

  “Yes, because there is surely no greater hope for a young lady than to find a husband, after all. How could any other thought possibly enter her head?” Ivy could do nothing to swallow down the sarcasm.

  “And I repeat, challenging.”

  “I don’t want a husband and am unlikely to get one, given what is required. They’re extremely taxing and would insist I behave a certain way, which I assure you I will not be doing.”

  His bark of laughter sounded loud on the still night air.

  “This is not a laughing matter, Mr. Haddon.”

  “Forgive me, I just hadn’t realized that Jackson’s words regarding you wer
e quite so accurate. I thought he was embellishing your character, as siblings are wont to do.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Your brother said you were the most annoying sister a brother could ever have because you were devilishly intelligent and could talk your way out of anything.”

  “Oh.” Ivy refused to weep. She’d done enough of that in her rooms at night.

  “It was a compliment, Miss Redfern. I always knew your brother loved you very much.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Haddon, that is very kind of you to say.”

  He didn’t say anything further, just watched her. Large and silent, waiting for her to speak again. Ivy was rarely silent or still. It was an enviable trait.

  “If you cannot help me, then could you direct me to someone who could? I tried to employ the services of an investigative person, but that failed miserably.”

  “Failed how?”

  “The man wanted more than money from me. I set him to rights, I assure you.”

  “I have said ‘I beg your pardon’ a great deal more in your company than I have in many weeks, Miss Redfern, however it is the only phrase I have for this moment. Could you please explain how you set the man to rights?”

  “It all started when I saw an advertisement for an investigative service in the paper. I should have realized by its location and the shabby state of the office that the man was not reliable.”

  “Where was the office?”

  “Broom Lane.”

  “Good Lord, that is not a place you should be frequenting.”

  “I had few choices open to me, so that was the one I took. I told the man what I needed. He said payment up-front, which I did not agree to, as I am nobody’s fool.”