A Debt of Dishonor

by Marek, Lillian

  He returned to her mouth and ran his tongue across her lips until they parted and he entered, tasting her, deepening the kiss hungrily. He felt her soften against him and groaned. It was as if he had been starving all his life and had finally come upon a banquet.

  *

  Yes, oh, yes. She sighed with pleasure at the feel of his arms around her, his mouth on hers, and her arms went around his neck to cling to him. Held against him, she breathed in the scent of him—no perfumes or pomades, just him, just Ashleigh. Peter. She could feel him, all along her body. She could feel the solid strength of him. And it did strange things to her own body. Pressing up against him, her breasts seemed to swell and grow sensitive in a way she had never known before.

  When his tongue teased at her lips, she parted them in surprise, and when his tongue entered, she gasped in more surprise. It was all so intimate, so pleasurable. She felt herself melting against him, as if her bones had dissolved. Her knees were buckling under her. If he were not holding her, she would fall, she would be naught but a puddle on the floor. She wanted nothing more than to be here, to be part of him, to lose herself in this moment. All thought had vanished. She was nothing but a mass of yearning sensations. She knew only one thing.

  She wanted Peter.

  *

  Without conscious thought—he would swear it was unconscious—he turned with her and began to move toward the bed. Had he been conscious, he would have realized that the chair was in the way. As it was, the chair went over with a crash that brought them both to their senses.

  She jumped away from him, her eyes slowly coming back into focus, her mouth swollen, looking so delightfully confused, so deliciously mussed with her bonnet knocked off, her spencer undone and her bodice loosened.

  Her bodice loosened? Good God, had he done that?

  She had noticed her disarray, and gasped. She turned away and tried to put herself to right. He should apologize, he knew, but all he wanted to do was pull her back into his arms and keep her there forever. A groan of longing escaped him, and he forced himself to step back.

  “Kate, I, I don’t know what to say.”

  She gave him a quick glance and then looked away again.

  “I know I should apologize. I know I should not have kissed you, but I cannot honestly say I regret it.” He smiled at the memory of the kiss. He could not help it.

  That brought a small smile from her as well. “No more can I. I do not recall offering any protest. Nothing was done that I did not desire.” She looked down and shook her head. “But it was not wise, Your Grace.”

  “Peter. Can you not call me Peter?”

  The smile faded, and she shook her head, still without looking at him. “No, Your Grace. That would not be wise either.”

  She was right. He knew she was right. But watching her face disappear inside the bonnet hurt. She belonged in his arms, and the absence of her hurt. When she moved to the door he burst out, “May I at least walk you home?”

  Halting in the doorway, she turned partly toward him, but still not looking at him, and shook her head. “No, Your Grace, I do not think…”

  “… that would be wise.” He completed the phrase with a sigh, and stood at the door to watch her disappear into the woods. He was behaving like an idiot, and he knew it. A reckless idiot who was endangering the reputation of an innocent young woman. When he had encountered her in the bookstore, it had been an accident. He should have simply greeted her and let her go on her way. He should not have walked home with her. He knew that perfectly well. Yet he had.

  Then he had seen her walking by the river. There had been no need for him to wait for her. And even if he did wait for her, he could have invited her to walk at Kelswick and then left. No need to walk her home. No need to watch for her, watch for another chance to walk with her. He was being a fool.

  He stood at the door, gripping the lintel, and watched her leave. His fingers turned numb as he clenched the rough wood. Off to the side, he caught sight of Hector still standing patiently by the path.

  He should not have left his horse saddled for so long. One more thing that he should not have done. That he had not expected to be gone so long did not matter. His behavior was irresponsible.

  Not as irresponsible as that of Kate’s father, of course. What kind of man leaves his wife and child alone and unprotected. Had he no sense of honor, of duty?

  Then he remembered the question about Kate’s name. Perhaps her mother had not been a wife. Perhaps it had not been a wife and child but a mistress and child. Many men would feel no responsibility to them at all. Such an attitude might be deplorable, even contemptible, but it was all too common.

  That did not excuse his own behavior to Kate. Whatever her mother may have been, may have done, Kate was innocent.

  He turned back into the room, picked up the chair and heaved it against the wall.

  He didn’t want to be wise.

  He wanted to be happy.

  He didn’t want to be responsible.

  He wanted Kate.

  Chapter Eleven

  Somerset

  Dressed soberly in a sturdy but respectable coat of black worsted, breeches and with a simple stock at his neck, Howard Hall looked like a moderately successful attorney. He looked so much the part that Sir Richard Langley assumed that was what he was when he was ushered into Sir Richard’s study.

  Hall looked hesitant. “I do apologize for intruding on you this way, Sir Richard. I had asked for Sir Bertrand Langley, and was told that he was deceased?”

  Sir Richard, a paunchy but pleasant fellow no more fashionably dressed than his visitor, nodded cheerfully. “Three years ago. Out hunting. The horse balked at a fence, but my father went over it anyway.”

  “My sympathy. It must have been a shock for you.”

  Sir Richard shrugged. “More of a shock for my father, but at least it was quick and clean. He wouldn’t have cared to linger.” When Hall seemed unable to think of an appropriate response, Sir Richard continued. “Why would you be looking for him? Can’t believe he would have gotten himself mixed up in any lawsuits. He always said only fools go to law, and I won’t say he was wrong.”

  Hall smiled slightly to show the proper appreciation of the jest. “Actually, it was not Sir Bertrand I was seeking but his daughter, Miss Frances Langley.”

  “Franny? Good God, haven’t thought about her in years.”

  “Dear me, is she also deceased?”

  “Not so far as I know. Though I might not know, come to think of it. Haven’t heard a word from her since the old man disowned her.”

  “Dear me.”

  Sir Richard threw a sharp glace at the visitor. “Why might you be looking for my sister?”

  “I am afraid I cannot tell you precisely.” Hall gave an apologetic smile. “I can, however, assure you that my finding her will be in no way to her detriment. Quite the contrary.”

  “Money, eh?”

  Hall lowered his eyes. His expression was that of a man maintaining a discreet silence.

  “Franny.” Sir Richard sat back, eyes unfocused as if looking into the past, until he began to smile. “She always was a stubborn one, you know, and the bravest of us. The only one who would really stand up to our father. Hope she ended up better than poor Mary did, for all she married a viscount. Never heard from either of them after they married, but every now and then someone would bring us word of Newell and another would know something of Mary. Well, they’re both dead now.”

  “Both? Both sisters?” Hall asked sharply.

  “Hmm? Oh, no, no. I meant Newell and Mary.”

  “I see. Did they, by any chance, did they have children?”

  Sir Richard shrugged. “Someone once mentioned a son who was living with Newell, but that is all I know. Poor Mary. She wasn’t even allowed to keep her child.”

  Hall coughed diffidently. “Of course, it was your other sister, Frances Langley, I was seeking.”

  “Ah, yes, of course. Well, we never heard from her
either after she married Andrew Darling.”

  “Andrew Darling?”

  Sir Richard grinned. “Good-looking fellow, he was. And crazy about Franny. It was right comical to see him dangling after her. But he was only a clerk at Williams & Co., the big shipping company up in Bristol. My father wouldn’t hear of it. So they ran off together. And not Gretna Green either. It was a special license. Andrew wouldn’t hear of anything less for Franny.” He flushed slightly at Hall’s look of surprise and then grinned. “I was a witness at their wedding, though I never told my father. He was in a real fury. He’d intended her for Newell, you see. The only thing that calmed him down was Newell saying he’d take Mary instead.”

  Hall blinked. “Then that marriage was not a love match, I presume.”

  Sir Richard snorted. “The only thing Newell loved was the dowry. Poor Mary.” With a sigh, he pushed back from his desk. “I’m afraid I can’t give you any more help than that. But if you do find Franny, you might tell her I wouldn’t mind hearing from her, now that Father’s gone. Wouldn’t mind a bit.”

  *

  A trip to Bristol came next. There, Hall, still in his sober attorney guise, found several people at Williams & Co., now Williams & Sons, who remembered Andrew Darling. The manager of the branch, Harold Quist, had been merely an errand boy at the time of Darling’s elopement, but remembered it vividly.

  “Oh, my, yes, I doubt any of us who were here at the time will ever forget Andrew Darling’s elopement. It was the most exciting thing that ever happened in this office.” His eyes twinkled in his cherubic face. “You must realize that though we are a shipping company, all we do in this office is move papers about. It is those on the ships who have the adventures.”

  “I was wondering if anyone might know of Mr. Darling’s current whereabouts,” Hall put in diffidently. “Or Mrs. Darling’s.”

  Lost in remembrance, Quist smiled. “We all knew about the romance—the young ones of us, that is. Every time she came to visit her friends here in Bristol, he would be out the door the minute we were finished and on her doorstep two minutes later. Comic, it was. And then after they ran off, Sir Bertrand came charging in. Ranting and raving he was. He wanted Andrew thrashed, hanged from the nearest lamppost, thrown into the sea, anything you could think of.”

  “Yes, I understand he was quite upset. But Mr. Darling?”

  “Well, the reason Sir Bertrand came here, of course, was that he wanted Mr. Williams to dismiss Andrew at once. Old Mr. Williams, that is. These days Mr. Williams is the old man’s grandson. He heads the firm now and keeps his office in London.”

  Hall made an effort to keep his impatience from showing. Obviously, he was going to have to let this fellow spin out his tale.

  “Yes, Sir Bertrand was shouting and screaming, smashing his cane on Mr. Williams’ desk, accusing him of encouraging the scoundrel—I am softening his language, you understand?”

  Hall managed a tight smile and nod.

  “Mr. Williams, of course, took umbrage at that. Took umbrage.” Quist savored the word. “And, of course, Andrew was a valued employee. He’d been something of a pet of Mr. Williams’, and everyone could see he was destined for important things. So he wasn’t dismissed, not a bit of it.”

  “Then he is still here in Bristol?”

  “No!” Quist chortled and slapped his thigh. “He was promoted! Mr. Williams put him in charge of the London office. That was only a branch office in those days, though it’s our main office now. That was Andrew’s doing.”

  “He is in London, then?” That was a bit of a surprise. Here Farnsworth had sent him chasing all around the country, and she might be sitting there right under his nose.

  Quist shook his head regretfully. “I wouldn’t know. I remember he retired some years back, not long after old Mr. Williams passed on. I seem to recall that he moved to the country, but I couldn’t tell you where. Could be I never knew. But they could probably tell you in London.”

  *

  In London, Hall decided it might be wise to be less direct in his inquiries. He did not want word getting back to Darling that someone was searching for him and his wife. As it turned out, the search was almost ludicrously simple.

  A few days drinking in the taverns where shipping clerks stopped before they headed home, and he soon discovered that Andrew Darling had been a respected and successful figure in the shipping world. Although his office was in London, his home had been in Lewes even before he retired. He had died a few years ago, but his widow was still living there in comfortable circumstances—very comfortable circumstances.

  The next step was equally simple. A day in Lewes was all it took to discover that Mrs. Darling had a niece residing with her, a pretty young woman who went by the name of Kate Darling.

  Hall had once more the appearance of a gentleman when he went to report to Farnsworth, and the butler had no difficulty in admitting him and ushering him into the library. The earl greeted him expansively and listened to his report with growing enthusiasm.

  “I have her!” His hand slapped down on the desk and his eyes glittered. “I will go down there at once and fetch her myself. You will assist me.”

  The earl’s exuberance surprised Hall, who had always considered Farnsworth a cold, controlled man. “Do you not think, my lord, that task might best be left to her brother?”

  “That fool? Do not be absurd.”

  Hall persisted. “Nonetheless, as her guardian, he has some legal standing. You do not. Were you to carry her off, it might be considered kidnapping.”

  Farnsworth waved the protest away. He stood up and began marching about the room. “No one would dare to challenge me. We are talking about an old woman and a girl. You need not fear.”

  “They might have friends,” Hall continued doggedly. “The situation should at least be investigated more thoroughly. You cannot even be certain that this is the girl. I never saw her.”

  The earl swung about with a snarl and almost stumbled. Righting himself with a hand on a chair, he glared at Hall, who stood his ground, impervious.

  “Very well,” Farnsworth snapped. “Go down there and investigate. Discover whatever it is that you think needs to be discovered. But do it quickly. Remember, you will not be paid until Katherine Russell is under my roof.”

  Hall’s look of calculation might have given another man pause. Farnsworth never noticed it.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sussex

  Franny watched with some concern as her niece took off her bonnet and laid it on the cabinet by the door. It was not that Kate looked upset or unhappy. It was more that for the past few days she had somehow removed herself. A week or two earlier, Franny had thought that she was beginning to look forward to the future with eagerness, as if she had finally begun to trust that she had a future. She had been behaving like a young woman looking forward to life.

  She had been turning into the girl Franny had hoped she would be.

  But recently, she seemed—not frightened, but detached, as if she were observing her life rather than living it. Franny did not like it.

  “Have you been for a walk, dear? To Kelswick?” Franny tried to sound cheerful, rather than inquisitive, as she walked with the girl into the parlor. Judging from Kate’s slightly twisted smile, she had not succeeded.

  “A walk, yes. To Kelswick, no.” Kate wrinkled her nose. “I decided it might be… unwise to impose too much on the duke’s kindness.”

  Franny bit her lip. She thought—she feared she understood what Kate was not saying. It was a pity. In so many ways, she and the duke were well matched. Still, there were difficulties as Kate had pointed out before. Peter—Ashleigh—was proud, determined to bring no dishonor to his name. He had overcome his parents’ reputation and now the dukedom of Ashleigh was viewed with respect. He would not want to do anything to endanger that respect, to provide food for the gossips.

  Kate had her pride as well. She would not accept help that she saw as charity and she was determined that no one
would pity her for the behavior, the misbehavior of her father and brother. But that meant that she could not present herself as what she truly was, a well-bred gentlewoman. Why did she think she had to discard the advantages her past gave her in order to escape the wrongs?

  Before Franny could comment, Kate smiled brightly—too brightly—and changed the subject. “I have been to see Mr. Prufrock, and I think we have come to an agreement.” Franny’s face must have fallen because Kate took her aunt’s hands and squeezed them. “Really, Aunt Franny, it is for the best. I will enjoy learning how to run the shop, and it means I will be able to support myself for the rest of my life if need be.”

  Franny wanted to shake the girl. “You do not seem to realize what that will mean for you. You will not be able to go back.”

  “Go back? Have you gone mad?” Kate looked horrified.

  “No, no, I do not mean back to your brother or even back to Yorkshire.” Franny shook her head impatiently. “But once you work in a shop, you will no longer be a gentlewoman. You will be looked down on, sneered at, by creatures like Lady Wilton. It is not…” She sucked in a breath and held it before going on. “It is not pleasant.”

  Kate began to laugh, shaking her head. “Pleasant? Pleasant? Here in this house, these last months—did you not realize? This has been the first time my life could ever be described as pleasant.” She looked at her aunt and held out a hand. “Please, Aunt Franny, do not look so stricken. I do not mean to say I was always unhappy. Mama and I managed well enough before she fell ill, and we had friends and neighbors—there was often cheer and laughter. It is only that everything was always shadowed by worry and uncertainty.”

  “But you need no longer feel uncertain. Surely you know how happy I am to have you here. And I have been thinking. Now that my father is dead, we could go to my brother. He could protect you, and you would not have to hide under an assumed name.”