Betrayal and Lies: Convenient Arrangements (Book 4)

by Pearson, Rose

  Christina closed her eyes. This was disastrous. She had no desire to marry any such gentleman and, after having had the joy of Lord Harlow offering his court, she could not allow this now to ruin her happiness.

  “I cannot, Father,” she said, opening her eyes to look up into his haggard face. She spoke very quietly and directly to him. “I have another gentleman eager to court me, and I have accepted him. If all goes well, then I think he will offer to marry me.” She pressed her hand to her father’s cheek, seeing the brokenness in his expression, how he could not meet her gaze. “Please, do not force me to do such a thing.”

  Her father said nothing for some moments, his shoulders slumped and his expression heavy with grief. When he did speak, his words tore at her heart, leaving her breathless with sorrow.

  “I have no choice, Christina,” he told her heavily. “The vowel is written in my own hand. I cannot see what else I am to do other than to agree.”

  “But you would not give up the estate,” Christina pleaded, her heart pounding furiously within her. “You told them you would not! How can you so easily give me away to a man you do not even know? Whose father is a cruel and treacherous creature such as this?”

  Lord Enfield closed his eyes and settled one hand on Christina’s shoulder. She recoiled from his touch, finding no comfort in her father’s side but instead feeling as though she was slowly being betrayed.

  “If I do not abide by the vowel I have given, then it will be my death,” he told her, his voice barely loud enough to reach her ears. “They will call me for a duel, and I shall have no other choice but to accept.” He held out one hand to her, and she saw it tremble, her heart squeezing hard with a sympathy she did not want to feel. “There is no doubt in my mind as to the outcome, Christina, and I could not place the burden of being a second onto any gentleman that I know. And then what would become of you? What would become of the Enfield estate?” Dropping his hand, he looked into her face, lowering his voice all the more so that she had to strain to hear him. “I will do all I can to delay this marriage so that I can find a way to save you from it,” he told her, giving her only the smallest flicker of hope. “But for the present, can you not see that there is no other choice for me but to agree?”

  Christina shook her head—not because she disagreed, but because she wanted desperately to discover a way to free her father from this, to free herself from this situation. The more she thought about it, the more her mind became tangled and confused with all that she was trying to uncover. There was no simple way for her father to escape this. Instead, she had unwittingly placed herself firmly in the middle of this situation without any way of escape.

  “It seems we have an agreement,” Baron Fulham exclaimed as Christina dropped her head, unable to even look at him. “How wonderful. I am so very glad that it has come about in such a way. I should thank you, Lady Christina, for stepping into the study as you did and making us aware of your presence!” He chuckled loudly. “We might never have known of you until it was much too late.”

  “We shall make certain to introduce you to our son at the next available opportunity,” Lady Fulham said, her voice filled with triumph. “Until then, Lady Christina, I think we shall take our leave.” She laughed, the tinkling sound filling the room and rubbing raw over Christina’s skin. “I am certain you will have a good deal to discuss.”

  “As do we, Lord Enfield,” Lord Fulham remarked, his voice now a little lower than before. “I look forward to arranging the dowry very soon. And recall that you are not to say a word of our agreement to another living soul. The consequences of doing so, I can assure you, will not be worth it.”

  And with that, they left the room, leaving Christina and her father standing alone together in the quiet study. Christina closed her eyes tightly, feeling the hot swell of tears press against her lids as she fought to keep her composure.

  “Oh, Christina,” her father said, his voice broken by emotion. “I am so very sorry.”

  He stumbled away from her, pouring two glasses of brandy—one much smaller than the other—before coming back to press it into her hands. Then, he slumped in his chair, leaving Christina to stand alone in the study. She was shaking violently, she realized, seeing the brandy slopping back and forth in the glass. Her mind was a haze of painful thoughts, her heart slamming furiously into her chest as she stared down at the brandy, not quite certain that she had taken in everything that had just occurred.

  “I do not know what else to say,” the earl said, covering his eyes with his hands. “I am sorry, Christina. I truly am sorry.”

  Christina said nothing, her legs beginning to give way beneath her. Stumbling back, she sat down heavily in a chair, bringing the brandy to her lips and taking a gulp. The liquid sent fire all through her, but it did not bring any hope. Instead, she felt tears fill her eyes once more and, before she could stop herself, her shoulders trembled and sobs shook her frame.

  Her affection for Lord Harlow meant nothing. His eagerness to court her would come to naught. It had all been torn from her, when she had only just been blessed enough to take a hold of it. And all because of her own foolishness. If only she had remained out of the way, had kept herself from rushing inside, then perhaps now she would be just as free as she had been before! But now it was all gone. Everything lay in pieces around her feet. All that lay in her future now was darkness.

  Chapter Five

  “You have been quiet this afternoon, Lady Christina.”

  Much to Richard’s shock, Lady Christina barely glanced up at him but kept her face turned a little away from him as the carriage made its way through London, back to Lady Christina’s home. Richard glanced towards Lady Newfield, who was, he noticed, sitting tight-lipped, her eyes blazing with some unspoken anger and her hands held tightly in her lap. Was it that he had done something wrong? Had he spoken foolishly on some matter or other? Had he displeased Lady Newfield in some way? Or upset Lady Christina? He could not think of what he had done, for whilst they had walked together, they had spoken of many things and none had seemed to bring her any dismay. She had not seemed quite herself, however, for her ready smile had not been present and her eyes had barely met his. And now, now that they were to return home, she appeared to have retreated into herself all the more. Richard’s brow furrowed, his stomach tightening in knots as he looked back at Lady Christina, wondering how he could get her to speak to him.

  “I do hope I have not upset you in some fashion,” he said slowly, wondering if it would be best for him to speak plainly. “If I have, I pray that you would tell me, Lady Christina, so that I might rectify the situation at once.”

  Finally, she turned to him—but as she did so, Richard noticed that her eyes were swimming with tears and that there were dark smudges beneath them. His heart twisted in his chest, hating to see her in such distress. What was it that troubled her so?

  “I am sorry, Lord Harlow,” Lady Christina said, a little tightly, “but I can assure you that it is nothing that you have done that has brought me to this...state of mind.” Her smile did not reach her eyes and barely lifted the corners of her mouth. “I do not mean to be so melancholy.”

  “But you are,” he said gently, not meaning to make her feel in any way guilty but expressing concern. “What is it, Lady Christina? I would have you tell me, if only so that your burden might be a little eased.”

  She closed her eyes, and to his horror, a single tear slipped down onto her cheek. “You will hear soon enough, Lord Harlow,” she said, in an ominous fashion. “And when you do, I pray that you will not hold it against me, for I swear to you that I have had no choice in the matter.”

  He blinked rapidly, looking from her to Lady Newfield and back again. “You mean that you cannot tell me what troubles you?”

  “No,” she answered, her voice hoarse. “I cannot, for it would bring me too much pain and I fear that I would lose my composure entirely.” Her eyes fastened to his for just a moment before she turned her head away again, loo
king out of the carriage window and evidently refusing to say another word. Richard did not know what to say or what to do, looking at the lady and finding himself completely at a loss as to how to help her. His mind filled with questions as he tried to work out what she could mean by what she had said, a sense of panic grasping his heart as his worst fears began to take hold of him. Was he not to have the happiness he had hoped for? Was he now to find himself alone, bereft of the young lady he had only just begun to court?

  “I cannot tell you how much I have enjoyed this afternoon, Lord Harlow,” Lady Christina said, her voice overly quiet and her eyes still fixed to the carriage window. “It has been one of the most wonderful afternoons of my life.”

  There was a note in her voice that made him feel as though she were saying farewell, as though she were stepping away from him. He did not know what to say, wanting to speak to her but unable to find the words. Seeing how Lady Newfield was steadily looking out of the other carriage window, Richard took a breath, reached across, and set his hand over Lady Christina’s, making her turn her head as she inhaled sharply. He did not remove his hand from her own but let it linger, holding her gaze and waiting for her to say something. When she did not, he shook his head and closed his eyes, trying to find what he wanted to say.

  “I have found this afternoon to be the culmination of all my hopes,” he said softly. “To be in your company, Lady Christina, to spend time with you and you alone, is all that I should ever want.”

  This, unfortunately, did not bring any sort of happiness to Lady Christina’s face. Rather, she pressed one hand to her mouth as tears spilled from her eyes. Richard began to panic, fearing that he had now made her sorrow all the worse, only for the carriage to draw up. Without even a word of farewell, Lady Christina practically jumped down to the pavement, hurrying up the stone stairs without a glance behind her.

  Left within the carriage, Richard and Lady Newfield exchanged glances. Lady Newfield shook her head, a heavy sigh pulled from her lips.

  “Please, do not make yourself anxious over your own behavior,” Lady Newfield said quietly, her eyes searching as she looked back at him. “I can assure you, Lord Harlow, that this has nothing whatsoever to do with you. Although I can promise you that Lady Christina’s grief and regret is quite genuine.” Rising, she made her way to the edge of the carriage, looking over her shoulder at him. “Do not hold it against her, Lord Harlow. That is the only thing I will ask of you.”

  Richard nodded but said not a word, watching Lady Newfield as she walked up into the house. The footman closed the door, and Richard could only slump back against the squabs, pressing his fingers to his temples. The carriage rolled forward, the driver aware that he now needed to return home, but Richard took no notice. Why had Lady Christina appeared so upset? What was it that he was not to hold against her? As far as he was aware, they were to be courting now, and Lady Christina had been just as eager as he.

  A sudden thought came to his mind, and he rapped on the roof.

  “To Whites!” he shouted as the driver replied that he had heard him. Whites, whilst perhaps not overly busy at this time of day, would certainly have a few gentlemen within it, and surely someone there would know if anything particular had happened. Anything that involved Lady Christina, at least.

  * * *

  Whites was quiet, but there were a few patrons present at the very least. Muttering to a footman, Richard sat down quickly in a large, overstuffed chair and waited until his drink was brought to him. Taking it from the footman’s tray, he sat back and let himself almost sink into it. His eyes roved about the room. There were a few others present, but some were dozing whilst others conversed quietly. He recognized a few but certainly none that he would ask about any sort of gossip! Sighing to himself, Richard rubbed one hand over his eyes before throwing back his whisky. This evening was to be a soiree at Lord Bannister’s townhouse, but he had no eagerness to return home and prepare for it. All Richard wanted to do was find out who might know something that involved Lady Christina.

  “That ridiculous baron is back in London,” he heard someone say, but rolled his eyes to himself at such a trivial remark. “Have you heard of his exploits?”

  “I do not think I wish to know what Baron Fulham has been doing,” said the second gentleman with a snort, echoing Richard’s sentiments exactly. “That man is nothing more than a fool.”

  “His son is in London,” the first man remarked. “Just as ridiculous and as obnoxious as his father, I am sure.”

  I am certain of it, Richard agreed silently, taking a sip of his whisky. He did not know who the gentleman was who was speaking, but he felt quite certain the man was of sound character, given he thought so poorly of Baron Fulham!

  “I heard he is now engaged,” said the second man, sounding quite thoughtful. “Although who would accept the son of a baron, I cannot imagine!”

  The first footman laughed. “Perhaps it is someone quite desperate,” he said, chortling. “Someone who has a disgraced sister or daughter or the like. That must be it, for I cannot imagine that anyone with any sense would give their consent to such a gentleman as that!”

  Richard felt a cold hand grasp his heart as he listened to the two gentlemen speak. For whatever reason, something the gentlemen had said sent a flurry of fear into his heart. Hearing that Baron Fulham’s son was engaged rose like a great warning in his chest and, in his mind’s eye, he saw the pale face and teary eyes of Lady Christina.

  Surely it could not be!

  Rising from his chair, he strode to his right and towards the two gentlemen, stopping just for a moment to bow low.

  “Pardon me for interrupting your conversation,” he said hastily, not even bothering to greet them both nor attempt to make an introduction, “but I must know who the young lady is that is engaged to…to…” Realizing he did not know the name of the son, Richard gestured impatiently. “Engaged to Baron Fulham’s heir.”

  The two gentlemen looked at each other before they returned their gaze to Richard.

  “This is a little untoward, my good sir,” said the first gentleman, “being interrupted in such a way.”

  “I apologize,” Richard said quickly, “but I have need to know of the lady’s name.” He did not give any explanation as to why but looked back steadily at the two men, shifting his gaze from one to the other until, finally, the second gentleman spoke up.

  “The heir is named the Honorable Stephen Markham,” said the second man, watching Richard with a hard gaze. “And he is to wed the Earl of Enfield’s daughter, Lady Christina.”

  Richard could not say a word, feeling the ground shift under his feet. That was why Lady Christina had been so quiet that afternoon, because it was to be the one and only time they were to court. The only time she was to step out with him, the only time she was to remain by his side and be entirely his. Now, it seemed, she was to wed another, and what was worse, wed to someone who was not at all the right sort of gentleman for her—as far as Richard was concerned, this “honorable Lord Markham” would not bring Lady Christina any sort of happiness, and from how she had behaved in the carriage, she would be deeply unhappy for the rest of her days.

  “I cannot quite believe it,” he found himself saying. “Are you quite certain?”

  The two gentlemen stared at him.

  “Yes,” said the second fellow said, slowly. “It is as we have said. Her name is now attached to his.”

  “And when did this happen?” Richard asked, finding it harder and harder to speak without his voice breaking with emotion. “Surely it cannot have been recent.”

  The first gentleman shrugged. “Only this morning,” he said, with a strange look in Richard’s direction. “You are not the last to hear of it, however. I am sure it will be all over London by this evening, of course!”

  He chuckled, but Richard did not join in. Instead, he turned on his heel and walked back to his seat, gesturing to the footman. Ordering another brandy, Richard sat down heavily and folded his
arms across his chest as though that would help him appear settled and at ease. However, his mind was spinning, filled with upset, sorrow, and confusion. The lady he had been courting was now apparently betrothed to someone else. How could that be? He had never once heard of Lady Christina having any interest in the baron’s son—Mr. Markham, or whatever his name was. And for the daughter of an earl to marry a man without title, who would, in time, only inherit a barony, was all the more unusual. What had happened to induce the Earl of Enfield to marry off his daughter to someone of such a low position as this?

  “Your brandy, my lord.”

  Richard took the glass and threw back the brandy in two gulps. “Another,” he grunted, looking steadfastly at the floor as he tried to place his thoughts in order. Part of him wanted to return directly to Lady Christina’s house, to beg to see her and to then demand to know how such a thing had taken place and why, after such evident delight at accepting his courtship, had she now become betrothed to Mr. Markham? But then he recalled the tears in her eyes, the way she had begged him not to ask her any further, to allow her explanation to remain silent for fear that she would lose her composure, and his heart twisted painfully within him. If he did such a thing, then no doubt, Lady Christina would be even more upset than she was at present. It had been clear that she had been very distressed, which told Richard that she had not been a willing partner in this arrangement.

  “I will have to meet this Mr. Markham,” Richard growled, his hand curling into a tight fist. “I will see what it is about him that has made him so particular in the eyes of Lord Enfield.” His jaw tightened as he considered what he was to do next. Was he going to give up, to give in now that Lady Christina had discovered herself engaged? It was, of course, the most sensible thing to do, for any gentleman who found that his particular lady was now betrothed to someone else would give up his pursuit immediately, believing himself to be quite lost to it now. However, Richard was not quite so willing. Given what he had only just discovered within his heart for the lady, he had no eagerness to turn his back on her and leave her to her marriage. Not when he knew that she was less than inclined towards her betrothed!