When Love Leads To Scandal (The Townsbridges, #1)
Page 4
But in between the busyness of it all, Bethany was very aware of Robert’s absence. If she was lucky, he’d stop by for tea twice a week, but he never stayed long. There was always an excuse for him to hurry on his way, so she’d given up asking him if he wanted to go for a walk with her or engage in a game of cards. He never had the time, or if he did, he had no desire to spend it with her.
As she acknowledged this fact, she realized that it was time for her to stop hoping she’d ever experience the same kind of spark with Robert that she’d felt toward Mr. Townsbridge. She winced at that thought as she placed an additional shawl inside her valise. To think she’d felt more of a connection with a stranger who’d saved her bonnet than she did with the man she’d be spending the rest of her life with was really quite sad.
Depressed and unsure of what to do except call off the wedding, she continued packing with mechanical movements, each second that passed bringing her closer to what felt more like an execution than a happy occasion. But perhaps Robert would be different at Langdon? Perhaps there he would have more time for her? She clung to that hope as she and her parents departed London and until she arrived at Langdon House, only to discover that Robert would not be joining them for another week.
“This is highly irregular,” Bethany’s father said once the butler had finished delivering the news.
“As I mentioned, his lordship has offered his sincerest apologies. He has also asked that the staff here ensures your comfort as well as that of the other guests,” the butler said with the typical sort of loftiness associated with his vocation. “You need not worry about a thing. Mrs. Watts, the housekeeper, and I shall make sure no one wants for anything. Indeed, I dare say you won’t even notice Lord Langdon’s absence.”
Bethany slumped, her ability to stand straight abandoning her as defeat took over. She glanced at her mother, who did not look the least bit pleased. “I cannot believe he would do this to you,” she said, confirming her annoyance as the butler led the way upstairs to their bedchambers. She made no attempt at discretion, which meant the butler must have heard her, though he showed no sign of doing so.
Bethany cringed. “The earl is a busy man.”
“Too busy to be a fiancé,” her mother muttered, “never mind a husband or a father.”
“That is unfair,” Bethany said as they reached the top of the stairs and proceeded along a corridor. “Robert is doing what is necessary in order to secure our future.”
“Considering your dowry of ten thousand pounds, I fail to see the urgency,” Pratchard said.
So did Bethany, but she still felt compelled to defend her future husband. Her loyalty should be toward him now, even if he made her heart sink a little bit more with every disappointment he caused.
“I’m sorry we encouraged you to form an attachment to Lord Langdon,” Bethany’s mother told her the following day during breakfast. “Regrettably, I must confess to being blinded by his rank and his assets, but it occurs to me now that his indifference toward you is such that the rest of it no longer seems to matter. To be honest, I’d rather see you wed to a chimney sweep who dotes on you than to an earl who’d rather be anywhere else than by your side.”
“Hear, hear,” Pratchard said in support of his wife’s opinion.
Bethany sipped her tea and considered the piece of toast on her plate. “While I appreciate that, I see little point in having regrets at this juncture. The wedding is set to take place and must go on for the sake of avoiding a scandal. To break off an engagement at the very last minute would speak ill of my character and yours by association, never mind the repercussions it would have on Robert.”
“We just don’t want you to be unhappy,” her mother said.
Bethany managed a smile. “I shan’t be. I promise.” After all, it was not as if she were missing out on marrying the man of her dreams. Mr. Townsbridge would never propose. Not after she jilted his friend. His sense of honor simply wouldn’t allow it, as evidenced by his reluctance to share her company.
Her parents did not look convinced. Their concern for her wellbeing was etched on both of their faces, which made everything so much harder. But wallowing in self-pity would get her nowhere, nor would it help her mood. So rather than skulk about indoors while dreading the days ahead, Bethany resolved to go for a walk in the garden after finishing her breakfast. It was a beautiful day with golden sunlight brightening the flowers and birdsong filling the air.
Deciding to become better acquainted with what would soon be her new home, she left the terrace to stroll along a graveled path. Bees buzzed as they gathered nectar while butterflies flittered between the blooming peonies. A smile tugged at Bethany’s lips. Langdon House was lovely. She could be comfortable here, and once she and Robert had children, they would fill her life with the sort of joy their father could not provide.
When Bethany reached a wide expanse of grass, her smile widened. This would be perfect for playing shuttlecock or pall mall. It was also well suited for a picnic if they ever decided to dine al fresco. Not that Robert was likely to participate in any of these things, Bethany reminded herself, but she’d invite family and friends to visit, an entire army of people to distract her from what her marriage would be missing.
Seeing a lake in the distance, she started walking toward it. This was where she would choose to spend most of her days, alone with her sketchpad, dreaming up buildings that would never be built.
The sound of horses caught her attention, and she glanced toward the road to see two carriages approaching the house. The first one drew to a sudden stop causing the second to halt as well. A pause followed, and then the door opened. Bethany shielded her eyes against the sun as Mr. Townsbridge alit. Even at a distance, he had the power to make her stomach contract. More so when he started toward her, his long stride eating up the distance between them. The carriages continued toward the house, but not before a young woman jumped out of the second one. She raced to catch up to Mr. Townsbridge and together they made their way across the field to where Bethany was standing.
“Lady Bethany,” Mr. Townsbridge said by way of greeting once they were within earshot of each other. “I spotted you from the carriage and thought I’d come to greet you directly. This is my youngest sister, Miss Athena.”
“A pleasure to meet you,” Bethany said while admiring the shared characteristics between the siblings. Both had the same dark hair, but while Mr. Townsbridge’s eyes were rich like chocolate, Athena’s were slightly paler and with a hint of green at the center. She also had more delicate features than her brother. Where his chin was angular, hers was pointed.
“Likewise,” Athena told her brightly. “Charles has told me so much about you.”
Bethany grinned in response to the girl’s exuberance. “Really?” She couldn’t quite imagine what he might have said. Glancing at him, she caught a hint of amusement in his eyes before he directed his gaze at his sister.
“When I told him I long to go digging for treasure in Egypt, he said that as long as a woman can dream of being an architect, she can also set her mind to being an explorer.”
Feeling her chest grow tight and her eyes start to burn, Bethany deliberately recommenced walking toward the lake. “Dreams are wonderful things to have,” she murmured while the tightness pressed against her heart. “I hope yours comes true, Miss Athena.”
“He also told me you have a contagious zest for life that’s similar to my own and that I was bound to like you very much.”
Startled by this analysis of her character, Bethany darted a look at Mr. Townsbridge. His gaze was fixed upon her with such intensity that her cheeks grew instantly hot and her legs a little unsteady. Effecting a laugh to hide the effect he was having on her, she said, “Your brother and I hardly know each other well enough for him to form such an opinion.”
“No?” The question came from him, delivered in a low timbre that awoke every nerve in her body. “I have seen you race through a park in pursuit of a bonnet, dance with laughter
in your eyes, and take on the task of romancing your fiancé. Speaking of which...I’m a little surprised to find you walking out here without him.”
His words carried with them a hint of concern. Bethany glanced at Athena. “Do you suppose there are fish in that lake?” she asked.
Athena scrunched her lips while considering. And then she grinned. “I don’t know, but I’m about to find out.”
She ran the remaining distance to the lake until she reached the water’s edge, allowing Bethany to answer Mr. Townsbridge’s question in private. “Robert has gone to see about a cotton mill that he hopes to invest in. He won’t arrive until next week.”
Mr. Townsbridge’s eyes darkened, and his features appeared to tighten. “He is neglecting you,” he murmured. His chest rose and fell with measured movements. For a second, he glanced away as if studying something in the distance, but then his gaze returned to hers, more fierce than before. “Please accept my apologies on his behalf. Robert is doing what he thinks best, but when it comes to you...” He clenched his jaw, and when Bethany lowered her gaze to his hands, she saw that they were balled into fists. “You must forgive him, my lady. His preoccupation with work has apparently overwhelmed him.”
“Of course.” She could think of nothing else to say, so she simply stood there watching Athena’s surveillance of the water, acutely aware of the way her skin tingled in response to Mr. Townsbridge’s presence.
UNDERSTANDING ROBERT was a challenge for Charles. His friend had secured an attachment with the loveliest woman in the world, and yet he preferred to bury himself in work and avoid her completely. Even if he needed to make back the money he’d lost, the situation could not be so desperate that he wasn’t able to give his attention to Bethany. At least until after they were married. It made no sense. Nor did the knowledge that Robert would not be supporting his wife in the pursuit of her dreams. The sadness with which she’d conveyed this news the last time he’d seen her had kept his mind busy ever since. He’d repeatedly wondered if he ought to interfere – if sitting Robert down and asking him what the devil was wrong with him might be helpful.
But then he’d decided it wasn’t his business. He had no cause to involve himself in his friend’s affairs. Especially when doing so meant taking Lady Bethany’s side against Robert. And yet, the house party had begun, but the master of the house – the bloody groom – remained absent. It was not only rude to the guests but an unforgivable slight toward Lady Bethany and her family. It also didn’t fit with the man Charles knew Robert to be, which had always been reliable and loyal to a fault.
Expelling a breath, Charles decided that in spite of his every intention to keep his distance from Lady Bethany, he would now have to do what he could to fill the void Robert had left. It wouldn’t be easy. Not when each glance she gave him caused hot little embers to scorch his skin. Which was why he’d refused to escort her to the Viking museum when he’d learned they’d be going without a chaperone.
It had not only been her reputation he’d feared for, but his own thinly held control where she was concerned. Before he’d even quit the carriage, he’d imagined pulling her onto his lap and kissing her senseless, of sliding his hands across her body, exploring her curves, and eliciting small sighs of pleasure.
Even now, after a month apart, arousal tugged at his body as he recalled the chance he’d had with her in the carriage. A chance he’d deliberately turned his back on, overriding his primal instinct because of his longstanding friendship with Robert. But the more aware he became of Robert’s flaws where Lady Bethany was concerned, the more he feared for his own resolve.
Expelling a tortured breath, he scrubbed his hand across his jaw. “Shall we return to the house? My parents will be there with the rest of my siblings. I’d like to introduce you to them.”
“Yes,” Lady Bethany murmured. She called for Athena to join them and waited until she’d reached them before heading back to the house. “Did you ever come here as a child?” she asked him as they walked.
Charles tilted his head and thought back. “I recall spending a couple of summers here around the ages of eleven and thirteen. My parents and siblings came as well, and Robert’s mother would arrange a treasure hunt with the most peculiar riddles.” He grinned at the reminder. “We also went boating on the lake back there and rode out to the ruins of Castle Bracknell for picnics.”
“There’s a castle ruin?” Lady Bethany and Athena both asked in unison.
Excitement lit up Lady Bethany’s face, making her even more beautiful than usual. She looked happy for a change, and as it occurred to him that he was the cause, a wave of warmth swept through him. It also prompted him to say, “I see no reason why we cannot go see it one day.”
“Can we do so tomorrow?” Athena asked.
“That depends entirely on her ladyship and the plans she has in store for us.”
“Oh.” Lady Bethany smiled at him with delight, her radiance so bright he could scarcely breathe. “I think an outing to the castle ruins would be a marvelous way to spend the day.”
Pleased with the knowledge that he’d lifted her spirits, he smiled to himself as they kept on walking.
Careful, a faint voice warned, reminding him that regardless of how much she’d started mattering to him, she wasn’t and never would be his.
CARRIAGES KEPT ON ARRIVING throughout the day, bringing additional guests to Langdon. Hiding her discomfort over Robert's absence beneath a forced smile, Bethany greeted each person with the help of her parents, acutely aware of the fact that she was meeting some of these people for the very first time. Robert really should have been there to make introductions, a sentiment that was voiced not only by her mother for what had to be the millionth time, but by Mr. Townsbridge's family as well. And every time a newly arrived guest inquired about Robert's whereabouts and she explained the circumstances, she was met with wide-eyed dismay.
“I shall have to have a word with him when he gets here,” Robert's mother, the Marchioness of Darlington, said when she and her husband arrived. “This is completely unacceptable and so very unlike him. You poor dear. Of all the things to put you through.”
Bethany appreciated the sympathy even though she'd already accepted the situation for what it was. She no longer felt any anger or disappointment, only numbness and a strange detachment from reality.
“Not to worry,” Lady Darlington said as she took Bethany's hands between her own as if to impart solidarity. “We are ready to help in any way we can.”
“Thank you.”
The marchioness smiled at her warmly, then slid her gaze toward Bethany's mother. “Shall we see to it that an informal tea is served on the terrace so proper introductions can be made?”
Bethany’s mother nodded, excused herself to Bethany and walked away with the marchioness.
“A lady's ability to manage a household is something to be admired,” the marquess mumbled.
“They're rather like generals, overseeing an army of servants,” Bethany's father said.
The marquess nodded his agreement, and the two men fell into conversation while gradually moving away from the door.
A new carriage arrived and Bethany glanced in her father's direction only to find that his back was now turned toward her as he listened to what the marquess was saying.
With a sigh, she straightened her spine, squared her shoulders and raised her chin in defiance.
“Care for some company?” Mr. Townsbridge's smooth voice inquired. The hair at the nape of her neck responded. Her skin tingled with heightened awareness on account of his closeness. A delicious kind of warmth caressed her skin, and her stomach began to flutter.
“Yes please,” she said, even though she knew she shouldn’t be encouraging him to spend time with her. He was merely being polite, and she ought to have had the sense to decline. “I don't know who this is,” she told him in reference to the young man presently alighting from the carriage. “If you can help, I'd appreciate it.”
Mr.
Townsbridge stepped forward and as he did so, his shoulder brushed against hers. The superfine wool of his jacket scraped over her skin, and a frisson raced down the length of her arm. She swallowed against the sudden dryness in her throat and clasped her hands together, willing the feeling to pass.
“That is Mr. Hewitt,” Mr. Townsbridge murmured close to her ear. His breath caressed the edge of her jaw, coaxing every cell in her body to respond. “He is another close friend of Robert’s.”
Unable to speak for fear of sounding too breathy, Bethany nodded and took a step forward, away from Mr. Townsbridge’s virile masculinity. It would, she hoped, appear to him as though she was simply going to greet Mr. Hewitt, when in fact she was trying to escape the longing he stirred in her heart and her soul.
The newly arrived guest doffed his hat in greeting. “Lady Bethany, I presume?’
She inclined her head. “Welcome to Langdon House, Mr. Hewitt.”
“Thank you, my lady. I’ve been looking forward to meeting the woman who has captured Langdon’s heart.” Mr. Hewitt’s gaze shifted to Mr. Townsbridge. “Charles. Good to see you again.” The men shook hands, and when Hewitt asked about Robert, Mr. Townsbridge casually explained the situation to him. Mr. Hewitt’s eyebrows rose. “I see.” A grin appeared on his angular face. “If it wasn’t for the fact that the invitation listed him as the groom, I’d have thought the two of you were the ones getting married.”
“Really?” Bethany squeaked.
Mr. Hewitt’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Well, you are standing here on the front step greeting the guests together.” His expression grew pensive, but rather than say anything further, he shook his head as if trying to dislodge his thoughts. “Clearly you are well acquainted already, which is just as it should be. I’ve always been of the opinion that making sure one’s wife gets along well with one’s friends is vitally important to one’s continued happiness.”