Scandals of Lustful Ladies: A Historical Regency Romance Collection

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Scandals of Lustful Ladies: A Historical Regency Romance Collection Page 8

by Meghan Sloan


  “What about if I come around to yours later this afternoon?” asked Charlotte. “We could get ready together, and travel together to the dinner party.”

  Alice smiled. “That would be perfect, Charlotte.”

  They paid for their tea, then wandered out into the street again, arm-in-arm. Not for the first time Alice felt gratitude that she had such a wonderful friend. They said their goodbyes, climbing into their carriages, just as light snowflakes started to fall.

  Alice wrapped the blanket around her legs to ward off the cold as the carriage lurched into the street. She gazed out of the window, watching the white flakes falling to the ground, almost spiralling in the wind.

  Soon it would be Christmas, and then the New Year. The end of the old, and the beginning of the new. A whole new year. A year in which she would probably become a wife, if all went well. She could barely believe it.

  Wife. She twisted the word around in her mind. You are going to be somebody’s wife.

  Not just anyone’s wife. The wife of Silas Wilmington. A man who had been expecting to marry someone else entirely.

  Could he truly get over what had happened, or would the ghost of Marina haunt him forever? Would it haunt their marriage for all of its days?

  She sat back in the seat, wrapping the blanket tighter around her legs. She must believe that it would not. How could she go ahead with it at all if she didn’t?

  She bit her lip uncertainly. Time would tell how it would unfold. Whether Silas Wilmington could truly let go of his lovely missing fiancée. Because Alice knew something for certain now. She could not play second fiddle to a ghost. Especially not for a man she admired and who made her shiver, like Silas Wilmington did.

  If she had been indifferent to him, perhaps she could have lived with it. But she knew now that she could never be indifferent to him. And that she would surely wilt away and die if he was forever indifferent to her.

  It would be too high a price to pay, indeed.

  Chapter 7

  Silas ran up the front steps to the grand townhouse on the south side of town, a fashionable area with a long line of tall grey houses nestled along it. It was as familiar to him as his own home. He had been here so many times, he knew it intimately. He rapped on the door sharply.

  “Good afternoon, Freeman,” he said to the butler, passing him his hat and coat, stamping his feet on the mat to shake off the snow. “A good day?”

  “A fair day, Mr. Wilmington,” replied the butler, leading him through the house. “Not much to report. But then, no news is good news, as they say.” He paused. “Mr. Turner is in his study. You are a little early.”

  Silas nodded. “I wanted to speak to him before the other guests arrived,” he said. “You know how it is with him. The life of the party. I probably won’t get to talk to him at all for the rest of the night.”

  “Indeed, sir,” said the butler dryly, rapping on the study door.

  “Enter,” called a voice, on the other side.

  Nicholas was sitting in a large blue upholstered chair near the fire, nursing a brandy and a book. His ginger eyebrows shot up, almost to his forehead, when he spied Silas behind the butler.

  “Wilmington,” he boomed, standing up. “You are early! Did I not specify seven on the invite, old chap?”

  Silas grinned, walking into the room. “You did indeed, but I knew you would not resent me coming a little early. It has been an age since we have caught up, after all.”

  “Indeed it has,” said Nicholas, grinning as well. “Well, don’t just stand there! Have a seat, and I shall pour you a pre-dinner tipple. I may even top up my own. It is going down rather smoothly.”

  Silas settled into a chair, staring into the flames of the fire. The study was cosy and warm. One would never know it was so cold outside. His eyes flickered around the room. It was filled to overflowing with books. Not only in cabinets, but on just about every available surface. Some were even piled on the floor. Nicholas was an avid reader, and he didn’t discriminate much with what he read. A tome of political philosophy could easily sit alongside a book on great gardens and a racy novel.

  His friend passed him his drink, settling back into his chair. There was a companionable silence for a moment as they sipped their drinks. The only sound was the hiss and spit of the logs on the fire.

  “You are a sly dog,” said Nicholas, eventually. “Do you think it great sport, that I learn about your new engagement from the newspaper, rather than from your own mouth?”

  Silas looked sheepish. “You know,” he said slowly. “Of course you do. Nothing escapes you.” He took a deep breath. “That is the real reason I came early, Turner. To tell you, before the other guests arrived, privately…”

  Nicholas snorted. “A likely story.” His eyes softened, just a little. “I have a little secret of my own. I met your new fiancée today, most unexpectedly.”

  Silas stared at him. “You met Miss Sinclair? Where?”

  Nicholas put down his drink. “I was shopping on Milsom Street, when an old friend of mine called out to me,” he said slowly. “Miss Charlotte Hayward. I may have mentioned her from time-to-time?”

  Silas nodded. Of course. Now he realised why he had the sense that he had heard the young lady’s name before when they had been introduced at the Sinclair residence. The Turner family were good friends with the Haywards.

  “She was having tea at The Honeypot,” continued Nicholas. “With her very good friend, Miss Alice Sinclair. I must admit, it is surprising that I have never made her acquaintance before. Charlotte has talked about her dear friend Alice for years.”

  Silas nodded again. “And what was your impression of the young lady?”

  “She is most charming,” said Nicholas, picking up his drink and sipping it thoughtfully. “And quite a beauty, in an understated, elegant way. That auburn hair, and those unusual eyes.”

  Silas took a deep breath. Alice was beautiful and charming. He had not been able to stop thinking about her, ever since that dinner party. His new fiancée.

  It was strange that he was so attracted to her. She was the complete antithesis of Marina in so many ways. Small and fine, where Marina was tall and exotic. Shy and softly spoken, where Marina was flamboyant and the life of the party. He had tried to talk himself out of it, just a little, telling himself that it was only a knee-jerk reaction. That it had been six months since he had allowed himself to get close to a young lady again, and it was merely that he was lonely.

  But then he thought about the moment when they had performed the duet. Her voice was simply beautiful, high and melodic, as sweet as a nightingale’s. And she had become so animated with singing, pouring her heart and soul into it. Only a man made of stone could not have been moved by it.

  “She is very agreeable,” he said slowly. “A pleasant surprise, I must admit. I was not expecting much, to be honest.”

  “You didn’t want much,” said Nicholas shrewdly. “It would have been easier for you, in some way, if she had been plain and boring, wouldn’t it?”

  Silas finished his drink quickly. The brandy was warm in his stomach, spreading out into his veins like fire.

  “You know how difficult it is for me,” he said in a low voice. “To have even given in to my father’s wishes and agreed to this engagement, was a huge step.”

  Nicholas sighed. “I do know how difficult it has been for you. I am your best friend, Wilmington. I have been beside you every step of this painful journey.” He paused. “Please be assured you are doing the right thing.”

  Bitter tears sprang into Silas’s eyes, and he gripped the brandy glass tightly. His life wasn’t supposed to go this way. He should be a happily married man by now. He should be attending this dinner party with his beautiful wife by his side.

  Instead he was here alone, talking about a stranger who he had just become engaged to. An alluring stranger but a stranger nonetheless. He didn’t know Alice Sinclair at all. He hadn’t even seen her out socially prior to this.

&n
bsp; It had been a week since the engagement was announced. He had wrestled with the conflicting desires to call upon her again and leave her well alone. A contradiction, which he could not resolve, in his heart. As much as he wanted to move on with his life, and leave the past alone, he wanted to cling to it as well. To drown in the memory of Marina.

  “I haven’t seen her since when we first met,” he said slowly, staring into the flames of the fire. “It is just so hard…”

  Nicholas put his glass down again. “Well, it rather looks like I have taken care of that problem for you, old chap.”

  Silas stared at him, frowning slightly. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean,” said Nicholas, grinning, “that the young lady is coming here as my dinner guest this evening. Now, what do you have to say, to that?”

  Silas gazed at his friend, stupefied.

  “You invited her here?” he said in a faint voice. “This evening?”

  Nicholas nodded, looking very pleased with himself. “It was no hardship, Wilmington. I haven’t caught up with Charlotte in an age, anyway, and it is always fun to bring new people into the mix.” He shrugged. “The table will be set with two more plates. So what?”

  Silas leant back in the chair, staring into the fire. He didn’t know how he felt about this unexpected news at all.

  But then a shiver of anticipation swept over him at the thought of seeing her again. At the thought of talking with her and getting to know her just a little bit better.

  A pang of guilt shot through him, followed closely by frustration. Was this always going to happen to him now going forward in his life? Was he always going to feel like he was being disloyal to Marina, in even being attracted to another woman?

  “Yes, it is the very thing,” continued Nicholas, in a satisfied voice. “I knew you would need a kick along with it, and the opportunity presented itself.” He hesitated. “I have a very strong feeling that this young lady will be good for you, Wilmington. She is the complete opposite of Marina, for starters, which is quite wonderful…”

  Silas bristled, staring at his friend. “You never liked her, did you?”

  Nicholas sighed deeply. “No, I can admit to you now that I never did.” He frowned. “That woman just reeked of duplicitousness. She was all show, but no substance. I always had the very strong impression, right from the moment I met her, that she was hiding something, or putting on an act…”

  “Everyone loved Marina,” retorted Silas hotly. “She was very popular. No one shared your concerns about her, obviously!”

  “You do not know that,” said Nicholas, in a hard voice. “People may not say it to your face, but I know many who did not trust her.” He hesitated, then ploughed on. “You have to hear it, my man. I believe that she got herself into trouble, and that is the reason that she disappeared.”

  Silas tightened his grip on the brandy glass. He wanted to get up and punch his friend in the face for daring to say such things about his missing fiancée.

  It was all lies, of course. Everyone had worshipped her. The only reason that Nicholas had not was that he was plain jealous, that he had not understood her when Silas had. His friend prided himself on being a lady’s man, a connoisseur of beautiful women, collecting them like bottles of fine wine. And Marina, of course, had been the finest of them all. A rare and unusual beauty.

  “You shouldn’t say things like that about her,” he said in a low voice, glowering at his friend. “Have you no respect for her memory? For what we meant to each other?”

  Nicholas’s face tightened. The air was filled with sudden tension. It seemed that they had reached an impasse. An awkward silence ensued, where neither of them said anything, lost in their own thoughts.

  Silas flirted with the idea of simply getting up and leaving. How could he go ahead with this dinner party now? It was impossible, after what his friend had just said. The disloyalty he had shown towards the woman he had loved more than life itself. Nicholas was dabbling in the dirtiest of gossip about her, and he would not have it.

  “I’m sorry,” said Nicholas, with a heavy sigh. “I do not wish to hurt you, my friend. I know how deeply you felt about her, which is the reason I have kept my own counsel about her, until now.” He paused. “But it has been six months, Silas. Long enough to look at things clearly now. Has it never entered your mind the possibility that she got herself in trouble? Young ladies from respectable families do not usually vanish without trace.”

  “A ruffian could have taken her,” said Silas quickly. “Grabbed her off the street. It does happen…”

  Nicholas frowned. “Yes, but usually in terrible areas. How many times have you heard of abductions off the streets of Bath in respectable areas? It simply does not happen. The chances that she was snatched randomly off a respectable street by a passing madman are so low as to be almost non-existent.” He paused. “You have read the report of the constabulary. No one saw anything, to indicate that happened.”

  Silas squirmed uncomfortably in the chair, his heart thudding. Yes, he had read the report. The constabulary had not been able to track her movements on the day that she vanished, though, at all. It was as though she had left her house that morning and the hand of God Himself had come down, whisking her away.

  There had been no leads at all. A person had come forward to say they thought they had seen her, on the streets of London of all places. But nothing had eventuated from it. Mr. St. George had hired a private investigator, but he had come up with nothing.

  “In these cases,” continued Nicholas, “it is usually the truth that the person wishes to leave their life. That they have planned it down to the last detail, and that is why there is no trace of where they have gone.”

  “Why would she have wanted to leave her life?” he cried, his eyes wild. “We were happy! We were in love! She was looking forward to our wedding day as much as I was!” He shook his head vigorously. “No, she has met with foul play, through no fault of her own. She is an innocent in this, and you besmirch her name, questioning it…”

  Nicholas sighed. “We will speak of it no more now. I do not wish to upset you. As I said, Silas. It is enough that you are willing to move forward with your life.” He paused. “I am very happy that you are going to marry Alice Sinclair. She has a calmness about her, which I think you need at this point in your life. No more drama.”

  Silas twisted in his chair. There was another awkward silence.

  “Are we still friends, old chap?” Nicholas stared at him. “I only have your best interests at heart. You must believe me.”

  Silas softened. He knew it was true.

  Nicholas was his oldest friend, and his best one. They had attended school together and been as thick as thieves from the moment that they had first met. Nicholas had always looked out for him, and this was no different. He was simply expressing an opinion that many people probably had about Marina’s disappearance.

  That was the problem with it all, he thought despondently. The lack of answers. There were only questions and wild speculation about what had happened to her. In one sense, it would have been a relief if they had found her body. As terrible as it would have been to know that she was truly dead, it would be a relief, as well, for it would finally quiet those voices who insisted she was still alive and well, and simply living her life somewhere else, not caring about the trail of destruction she had left behind.

  He had known Marina better than anyone. He knew that she would never have deliberately left him like that. They had loved each other and she had been looking forward to their life together. His mind could not grasp anything else. It would not.

  “I know you are only looking out for me,” he said to Nicholas, gazing at him steadily. “I know you are only trying to open my eyes to other possibilities of what may have happened to her.” He took a deep breath. “And I am glad that you are so supportive of my new engagement. That is a relief at least.”

 

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