The Spencer Sisters Forbidden Loves and Broken Hearts

by Christine Donovan

  Elizabeth’s hand covered her mouth to keep from screaming. There was no mistaking who Lord A. was, even if he’d yet to speak.

  “Lady S., perhaps another time.”

  Oh God, it was Edward, even though she didn’t want to believe it. Her knees buckled and she grabbed a column to keep from collapsing in a heap on the floor. Air vacated her lungs, she thought she might die as her heart shattered into a thousand pieces.

  “May I assist you, Miss Spencer?”

  The large stranger, without waiting for Elizabeth to reply, curled his arm around hers and led her into the ballroom and directly toward her brother and Miranda.

  “I finally recognized someone, besides you.” Several feet from Spencer, the stranger removed his arm and bowed. “I’m sorry for what you witnessed.” With that he disappeared into the crowd.

  Elizabeth continued the few steps to her brother and Miranda’s side. “I’m sorry. I’m feeling unwell. I’ll take the carriage and send it back.”

  “Nonsense,” Miranda said as she glanced at Spencer, looking worried. “We will all go.”

  It seemed the longest carriage ride Elizabeth had ever endured. She ripped off her mask as soon as she sat against the squabs and fought harder than she ever had not to break down and cry. Finally, they arrived home. She said a quick goodnight to Spencer and Miranda and hurried up the staircase, down the hall to her room. Sophie was waiting for her and helped her get ready for bed in her dressing room. When her pantaloons were removed they were stained.

  “You have your courses. Let me get you the strips of cloth.”

  Dismissing her maid, once she was settled for bed, Elizabeth climbed beneath the covers, her hand on her belly, and great sobs racked her body. Crying from relief of not being with child and crying because she wasn’t pregnant. Dear God, she was a mess. And after what she’d heard tonight, and knowing she wasn’t increasing, she could break off whatever it was she had with Edward.

  It was obvious from his actions tonight, he didn’t want to marry her. Or if he did, he would not be faithful to her, which she could not abide. And what sort of place was the Red Poppy? She’d never heard of such an establishment. Perhaps it was a house of ill repute, and the lady tonight was a courtesan. Perhaps she was Edward’s mistress. Did it matter? No. Elizabeth’s heart had split open and withered to nothingness at the ball. Edward no longer meant anything to her. In fact, she would never love, trust, or give herself to another. Spinsterhood wouldn’t be so bad. Her loving family would be enough. Their love would sustain her until she took her last breath. She would be the best aunt to Mary and Robert’s children. Miranda and Spencer’s as well if they were blessed with a family. She’d never need a babe of her own. Perhaps she could live with Mary at The Rose Cottage.

  Turning onto her side, curled up tight, tears streaming down her face staining her pillow, she fought not to hear the woman’s voice. Thank God she couldn’t see them clearly, only their outlines. Because if she had, she didn’t know what she might have done. It was better this way. If she had to tell herself that every day for the rest of her life so be it. Being married to a man who could not be faithful and probably didn’t love her would not do. She deserved better even if she didn’t want it anymore.

  “WHY WON’T SHE SEE ME?” Edward collapsed into a chair opposite Spencer’s desk and took the offered glass of brandy, wasting no time in tossing back the entire contents. The burn sliding down his throat and settling in his belly was a welcome relief. He appreciated the respite from feeling as though the entire world was out of control and playing tricks on him. He’d finally managed to get his life right-side up and suddenly it was upside down again.

  “Did you two argue last night?” Elizabeth’s brother eyed him over the rim of his glass.

  “No. I never even saw her. Did she attend?”

  “Yes.”

  His insides churned. How could he not have seen her? Why hadn’t she approached him? Damn last night. It hadn’t gone well. The moment he’d stepped inside Lord and Lady Edgewater’s townhome he’d recognized several questionable members of the ton from his opium days. “I never saw her nor you and Miranda.”

  “I assure you, the three of us were in attendance. Although we didn’t stay more than an hour. We were separated from Elizabeth soon after our arrival. I saw her dance with a tall gentleman I didn’t recognize. Not long after, she said she felt unwell and wished to leave.”

  Anger coiled up tight inside Amesbury’s chest. “Who was the man? What did he say to her? Did he behave shockingly toward her? Overly familiar?” During a masquerade anything was possible. Strange how he once enjoyed hiding behind the mask.

  Inhaling and exhaling, Spencer sipped his brandy. “I honestly can’t say.” Placing his glass on his desk, he sat back and crossed his arms on his chest. “I admit it wasn’t long after the dance that she came to us begging to leave. She did appear upset, but you know women, they are hard to read and she didn’t offer any explanation.”

  “Damn it.” Amesbury jumped up and paced the small office. “If I never saw her last night, and before that things were good between us, then what the devil happened?”

  Time went by. Spencer stared at him with intense blue eyes the same hue at Elizabeth’s.

  “What?” Amesbury barked.

  “I always wondered about the time you had that mysteries illness and your betrothal to Lady Beth was broken. Rumors ran rampart as to the reason. Pray tell me, does my sister know?”

  Amesbury sputtered, “About my illness or the broken betrothal?”

  “Both.”

  Collapsing back onto the seat he held up his empty glass. “I need more.” After it was replenished he downed half of it. He’d save the rest until he spilled his guts. “The only two people who know what mysterious illness I had is Wentworth and Myles if you don’t count my trusted housekeeper, valet, butler, and family physician.” He paused and inhaled for courage. “Ever since the carriage accident that took the lives of my parents and sister, I’d been addicted to laudanum. Years of hiding my drug addiction proved successful. Trying to get off the vile stuff not so. I took the drug in part for the pain I experience in my back and legs on a daily basis. I hide my injury well. Even you have never seen me use a cane. But I assure you, once I’m in the privacy of my home I use it faithfully. If there is ever a day the pain is too intense to go without the cane, I stay home in solitude. I will not have anyone think me weak or a cripple.”

  “Christ, how the hell have you hidden this? It’s been years.” Spencer bellowed.

  “I had help from Wentworth and Myles when it came to not having aid of a cane. They did not know about the misuse of laudanum. But not long after those two returned from America, and while I was betrothed to Lady Beth, I took too much opium and almost died. Truthfully I wanted to die. My butler sent word to my friends, who were shocked to find out what had been going on, and they spent days, weeks helping me through my withdrawals—tying me down in bed so I couldn’t hurt myself. And many other things too embarrassing to speak of. I’ve not touched a drop of the stuff since. I promise you I am worthy, at least I think I’m worthy, of your sister. I love her and would do anything to make her happy.”

  A lengthy pause had Edward’s blood pumping loudly inside his ears. “Bloody hell Spencer, say something, anything.”

  “I’m processing it all and trying to remember back to that time. I was trying to win Bella’s heart away from Myles. But one would have had to be an idiot not to have heard the rumors surrounding you. However, your use of opium never once was whispered through the drawing rooms of London. How did you hide it? Someone other than Wentworth and Myles had to have known.”

  “Yes, well, there are people who know. Others who partake in the drug. Others who visit opium dens such as I had. But they would never talk. We sign a code of silence.”

  “A...what...” Spencer choked out.

  He found himself chuckling. Couldn’t help it. It did sound ridiculous. “Well, even opium eaters
have a code of ethics.”

  “What else do I need to know?”

  “Nothing, unless you want to know about my betrothal. And by the way, Elizabeth already knows about this.” At Spencer’s nod, Edward sighed. “After the night I...over indulged, Wentworth paid a visit to Lady Beth’s father and begged off on my behalf. I don’t know what he said or how he did it, but that is all I know. And I owe the duke my eternal gratitude for it.”

  “Last night.” Finishing his drink and placing his empty glass on the desk, Spencer eyed him. “Tell me everything that happened last night from the moment you entered the ball.”

  Edward leaned back in the chair and rested one ankle on top of the other knee. “Shit. There were several acquaintances I recognized from the den I used to visit. The Red Poppy.” His heart lodged up into his throat, making it difficult to continue. He rubbed his chest, hoping his heart went back into place. “There was a time when I walked around looking for Elizabeth. I couldn’t find her in the ballroom so I ventured out into the hallways. Dark and private. Why I thought she might be there I have no idea. A woman approached. She recognized me immediately. She called me Lord A.” His eyes closed and he fought the guilt and disgust trying to swallow him into the dark abyss. “She mentioned how we used to, excuse me if I use her crude language, fuck. How she used to toss up her skirts for me.”

  His head dropped into his hands and he groaned. “I knew I would not be able to keep my past secret forever. I told Elizabeth everything, except about the opium. Bloody hell, I still haven’t discussed my need for a cane either. But I planned on confessing all before I asked for her hand. Owing it to her to know all about my degenerate and disgusting past. Sex with strangers, orgies. I’d wake up in the morning and have no recollection of my previous night’s behavior.” He raised his head and stared right into Spencer’s hard eyes. “I promise you that is all in the past. I’m not that person anymore. Haven’t been in a long time. You never have to worry about your sister after we marry.”

  “Is there a possibility she overheard this conversation with the...woman...in the alcove?”

  Before Edward could answer, the door burst open and in fell Elizabeth, wide-eyed, resembling a warrior princess ready to do battle and protect all at once.

  “Will you please excuse us brother,” she uttered through gritted teeth.

  Spencer’s eyes moved from Edward to Elizabeth. “My dear sister, you appear distraught. Do I need to stay and protect Amesbury?”

  Her beautiful, wild eyes pierced Spencer. If they could spur forth shards of glass her brother would be gravely injured. “If he cannot protect himself then he is not worth of my time or your efforts in doing so.”

  “Then,” he bowed, “I will leave you. However, before I do, might I remind you of my collection of priceless paper weights on the shelf. They would do significant damage to the plaster and windows.”

  “Remove yourself, brother.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Breathe. Elizabeth could hardly take in air as her insides, including her lungs, constricted up tightly. Her heart and mind fought for the right to tell her what to do and feel. Her heart cracked wide open at what Edward had endured. However, her mind had a brain of its own, wanting to be furious with him for keeping all that had happened to him from her. Oh, she was furious, but at him or the circumstances she couldn’t be sure. He’d hinted at doing unspeakable things, but she hadn’t imagined anything such as he had. In fact, Elizabeth had all but forgotten—with all the excitement of Mary’s wedding and her confidence Edward and she would marry next—about the things he’d hinted at doing but kept avoiding telling her.

  Well, now she understood. How would he have broached the subject. “I’ve lived the life of a degenerate. There was a time in my life I had no morals whatsoever. I participated in orgies, had sex with strangers.” Dear God, how did one get over this. Her hand clutched her chest, and her weak knees almost sent her crashing to the floor. The war engaging inside her mind and heart reached a crescendo and a humming so loud she thought she might cast up her accounts. Breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Slow and steady. She could do this. She needed to do this.

  “Amesbury.” Before she knew what their future beheld, she would not use his Christian name. God, how that stung. Forcing her legs onward, she took her place at Spencer’s vacated chair and somehow managed to look Amesbury in the eye. “First, I must apologize for listening at the door. It wasn’t my intention. Truthfully, I didn’t know you were still here after I refused to see you. I came to speak with my brother in private.” Elizabeth paused, cleared her throat hoping the lump lodged there would vanish. “When I heard your raised voice, I could hardly leave. What happened to you and what you lived through weighs heavily on my heart and mind. I’m going to need time to come to terms with the gentleman I know and the gentleman you hid from me.”

  “I...”

  A quivering hand came up, halting his words. “I can’t have this conversation with you today. Please just let me say my peace.”

  His eyes closed, he inhaled and exhaled loudly, and his eyes popped open. The uncertainty, embarrassment, and pain she witnessed in the depths of his hazel eyes tugged on her heart strings. Elizabeth pushed it aside for now, knowing the look would haunt her dreams for many nights to come. “Last night when I found you in the darkness meant for liaisons and I heard that woman speak, I almost vomited at the words she used. For surely she couldn’t be speaking about my Edw...Amesbury. She had intimate knowledge of you, which I know many women do. It was how she said it. How she treated you. I never imagined places like these existed, never mind members of the ton visited them. I gather from the woman that the Red Poppy is a place where one goes to get opium, do whatever one does with the drug, and have sex. A den of iniquity. A place where people go to lose themselves in opium and wickedness of the flesh.”

  “Please...”

  The pleading in his voice once again tugged at her, but she would not allow it. She would be strong. Before she could commit to a future with him, she needed to know his past indiscretions wouldn’t plague their marriage. The last thing she would allow and had to be certain would never happen was for his past to haunt their marriage. For if it did, they would end up hating each other and being miserable. Something she would not allow. Most of her friends and family married for love and were happy. She needed, wanted that. Until last night, she knew they would have that. Now...only time would tell. Time for her to come to terms with this part of him she hadn’t known. A part that disgusted her. Perhaps Elizabeth was too innocent and naive. If they’d already been married or affianced, the point would be moot. Dealing with it would not be an option. She would have to get past it. She wished she could go back to yesterday and make it all go away.

  Abruptly standing, nearly knocking the chair to the ground, Elizabeth mumbled, “I must go. Please excuse me.” As fast as her legs could move, she ran from the room, her skirts hiked up almost to her knees. She ran down the hall, up the stairs, and into her chambers diving facedown onto her bed.

  With a soft knock on the door, Miranda’s voice called out, “Elizabeth, may I come in?”

  Rolling over and skootching up so her back rested against the headboard, using pillows to cushion her back and head from the wood, she answered, “Yes.”

  Her sister-in-law looked worried as she made her way toward the bed and sat down on the edge. “Spencer told me what happened.”

  Shame burned her cheeks. “I’m shocked and embarrassed and mortified that you know,” she cried. “That my brother knows. I don’t think I’ll be able to look Wentworth or Myles in the eye ever again. They knew what sort of man Amesbury was and yet...”

  “Yes, they knew,” Miranda interjected, “and yet, they are still considered the very closest of friends. They obviously don’t dwell on the man’s regrettable past. His mistakes and transgressions.”

  “Easy for them. They are men and the world is different for them. Besides, they were not planning on marrying him or in love w
ith him.”

  “No. Of course not. How they reacted and how you reacted are vastly different.” Miranda paused, shimmied up the bed, sitting beside her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. The touch soothed Elizabeth’s frayed nerves. “I’m quite convinced Amesbury would be appalled if he knew I knew his secrets. But your brother and I share everything. Not to mention, how could he explain the rift between you two. I would not stop asking questions as to why you and Amesbury were not together anymore.”

  Numb, the pain bombarding her since last evening turned numb, giving Elizabeth some respite from the physical ache. The mental anguish still forged on, no end in sight. “I want to go back a day. I want to be ignorant of his past. I wish to forget everything from last night and this day. I want to love him again. Things transpired between us.” Elizabeth took a deep breath for courage. “I’m no longer a virgin. If I don’t marry him, who will have me?”

  “Oh, my dear sweet girl.” Miranda hugged her closer. “That is not true. If you cannot forgive or move forward with Amesbury, there will be another gentleman to love you and for you to love. But first you need to be absolutely positive you are not with child.”

  Disgusted with herself for crying, Elizabeth swiped away the tears clinging to her cheeks. “I first thought I might be, but my courses came last night.”

  A deep sigh came from Miranda. “Good. Now back to what I was saying, you know what happened to me with Henry Baker, Aunt Violet’s husband. How he raped me?”

  Hearing the words rape twisted up Elizabeth’s insides. So much for believing her numb. “Yes.”

  “Your brother loves me and married me regardless. Oh, some snobbish, boorish gentleman would believe me ruined and not worth the ground beneath his boots, but not Spencer. Of course, it didn’t hurt that we had a past together, but still. If and when you decide to move forward, do not believe for one moment, you are ruined for love or marriage. Men do not come to the marriage bed chaste. Anyone worthy of your love will understand. There is so much to think about and decide, don’t let your lack of virginity come into play.”