by Kelly Boyce
“My, my. I see you have developed the bold tongue of a harlot.”
No one had ever spoken to her with such disrespect. Pent up anger writhed beneath her skin.
“You are a vile man, Lord Billingsworth. Let us not forget who it is who led me to this position with promises of love and forever. And let us not forget who it is who dishonored themselves by betraying those promises.”
A muscle twitched in the corner of his mouth. He had suffered his own censure from the ton for breaking their marriage contract. Nowhere near what she had suffered, but he did not get off without a hint of taint about him. Between that, and the current state of his family’s finances, there were not many marriage-minded misses setting their cap for him. She may not have been out in society, but Abigail had kept her informed of the gossip.
Billingsworth leaned toward her, the stench of brandy forcing her to hold her breath. “The only dishonor would have been to drag my family’s name through the mud by associating it with yours.”
“An association you will have to continue if you speak of our past…association.” The words tumbled out of her and built into a threat. “If word gets out, I will tell how you seduced me with lies and you will have no other option but to marry me or face disgrace. Regardless of my standing in society, I am still the daughter of an earl, a lady. No gentleman of honor can take my innocence without repercussion.”
Billingsworth snorted, but doubt lingered in his eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.”
She smiled and felt the cold of it through to her bones. He was right. She wouldn’t dare, but he did not need to know that. “If you ruin my reputation, what do I have to lose?”
“M’lady?” She jumped at the sound of Elsie’s voice behind her. She issued a silent thank you to her new maid for choosing that moment to find her. At least Billingsworth would see she did not travel unchaperoned. Would it be enough? “We should make to the carriage. We’ll be wantin’ to be underway. His lordship will be along shortly.”
“Yes, of course.” She gave Billingsworth a withering glare. “Your accusations with respect to Lord Huntsleigh are unfounded. I fell ill during my travels and he, being a close friend of Lord Blackbourne’s, felt honor bound to escort me home safely.”
Whether Billingsworth believed a word out of her mouth she did not wait to see. Knowing him, he would make up his mind as it suited him best. He could easily use what he had seen to ruin her, without ever bringing what had transpired between them into the mix. The unfairness of it rankled.
But she was no stranger to unfairness.
* * *
Spence stared across the carriage at Caelie. Miss Brampton has asked to sit in the driver’s box with Garron while the weather held, claiming she did not care for being stuffed inside a carriage for long periods if it could be avoided. Spence had a sense it had more to do with a burgeoning attraction between the two, but he said nothing. Caelie had acquiesced and now the two of them shared the interior while Garron and Miss Brampton sat aloft outside. Now and again, Garron’s rumbling laughter echoed against the carriage walls.
The interior of the carriage did not share such merriment, however.
Upset colored Caelie’s beautiful features. He had spent ample time in the company of enough women to read the nuances of their moods and while he may not necessarily know or understand the cause of them, he could certainly ascertain when one occurred.
At least in this instance, he knew the source. He had only to look in the mirror to find it.
He had tried several ways to approach the subject with her in his own mind, but it proved a difficult situation to broach casually. It did not help that her firm attention on the carriage window and whatever lay beyond it indicated a lack of receptivity to conversation.
Not that he blamed her.
He had made a right mess of things, accusing her the way he had. The more he thought about it, the worse he felt.
I was devastated…I sought solace.
Could it be true?
And if she told him yes, would he even believe her?
Spence cleared his throat. “I feel I should apologize for my behavior of last night.”
Caelie did not respond. He wasn’t sure she even blinked.
“I said some things…did other things… You were correct in your assumption that I had over-imbibed. My thinking had become muddled and my judgments somewhat…skewed, if you will.”
Still nothing. He might as well be having a conversation with the empty space next to her.
It struck him suddenly how much he wished he could turn back time, go back to last evening before everything had gone so horribly wrong and hear her laughter once more. Watch as it lit up her face and made her emerald eyes dance like jewels caught in sunlight. He wanted to go back to the kiss, to experience it all over again, revel in it, make it last forever. He’d do it differently this time. He’d never leave the room, never run into Billingsworth and let his vile words worm their way into his brandy-soaked brain.
Only he could not turn back time, any more than he could change the fact she had given herself to another man.
But did that mean she had tried to dupe him?
He freely admitted, though quietly and only to himself, that he had enjoyed the time spent in her company. He did not regret leaving the ship near as much as he’d thought he would. Not that he relished returning to London to face Bowen or Grandfather’s wrath, but the time he’d spent in Caelie’s company had been most pleasing and…confusing.
He’d never met anyone quite like her. She had proven to be a lovely and surprising companion.
And a dangerous one.
He shook his head and realized Caelie had turned her attention away from the window to rest her steady gaze on him. She no longer bowed her head, or looked away. When had that happened? He could not recall, but their gazes locked and it robbed him of whatever words he had left to complete his apology.
“I had a run-in with Lord Billingsworth,” she said.
He started. “Billingsworth?” A chill settled through him. “When did this happen?”
“He saw me leaving the inn for the carriage and approached me.”
“What did he say?”
“He deduced we were traveling together. He believes me to be your mistress.”
Spence pounded his fist into the cushioned seat and wished it was Billingsworth’s smug face instead. “Did he indicate if he intends to speak of this to others?”
She shrugged and returned her attention to the window once again. “I do not know. I told him if he tries to ruin me I will make it known he stole my innocence and thereby force his hand. He will have to marry me if he has any desire to save his honor.”
“The man has no honor,” Spence bit out. Caelie did not answer. “Besides, if he indicates we are…together, he will not need to use your association with him to ruin you.” Billingsworth could spread his vile gossip and use Caelie’s loose morals and family scandal as proof he was right to jilt her.
“Nor does he have the courage to speak of it in a direct manner,” she said. “He could not even break off our engagement to my face. He did it through a letter delivered to Benedict. If he plans on using the information, he will make it appear as if the knowledge came second or third hand. He’ll spread it like a virus while keeping his own hands clean. He wants to come out of this looking like the injured party.”
She had the man pegged, he would give her that. Whatever blinders she’d worn during their original association had been pulled off and she now saw her former fiancé for the unconscionable bastard he was.
“Tell me what happened between the two of you. The truth of it.”
Her face flamed and for a moment he thought she might tell him to pound sand. He couldn’t blame her after the way he’d treated her last night. She had every right. But he needed the truth. Why it mattered, he could not say, but it did.
“It was as I said. Papa had just died.” The words rasped out of her, quiet and laced with shame. “
I felt…broken. In need of comfort. I wanted someone to tell me everything would be fine. That in the end, the hurt would stop. I turned to Billingsworth. He was to be my husband. My protector.”
Spence had never hated the man more than in that moment.
“Billingsworth eagerly gave the comfort I sought, then turned it down a more physical path. He told me it would be fine, we were to be married after all. So I let him…” She shook her head. “When he finished, he turned his back on me. He assumed because of the scandal my family suffered I wouldn’t dare bring more upon it by admitting what we had done. And he was right.”
Spence’s stomach churned. Not just over what she had gone through, but because he had added to it with his behavior the night before. He had turned his back on her as well, believed the despicable lies Billingsworth had told. And why? Because it would make it easier for him to justify not being marched to the altar?
He shook his head. He should marry her, if for no other reason than because she deserved it. If he thought that would be enough, that he could make her happy, he’d do it too. But whatever the basis for a good marriage was, he doubted pity and shame were a component. If they married based on that, their union would be nothing short of a misery, and he’d be damned if he’d drag her through a repeat of his parents’ marriage.
She deserved better than that.
She deserved better than him.
“I have been giving your situation some thought and I’ve come up with a solution.”
Her gaze left the window, the weight of its sadness landed heavy upon him. “And what is that?”
“I will find you a suitable husband.”
Chapter Eleven
“Forgive me, did I hear you correctly? You plan on finding me a husband?”
Caelie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The idea was ludicrous. The man who considered marriage akin to misery, who had accused her of being a mercenary who had tried to trap him into proposing, he would find her a husband?
“I am the perfect one to do so.”
She shook her head. Either the man had gone mad or he was still drunk from last night’s brandy.
“In what possible way are you perfect for this task? You despise the very idea of marriage.”
“True, but I am not the one marrying you.”
Caelie recoiled inwardly at his remark. “I see.”
Spencer’s brow furrowed. “I did not mean that as a slight. Just a fact. I am ill-suited to marriage and I think you can see from my behavior of last night, not someone you would wish to be shackled to for life. But if we do not act quickly—before Billingsworth has time to spread his lies—that is what will happen.”
“Perhaps my threats were enough to stay his tongue,” she said.
Spencer did not look convinced. “I mean no offense, but you are but an innocent—”
“Obviously not.”
“Fine, but if you think Billingsworth will pass up the opportunity to ruin you to save himself, then you are innocent in the ways of the world.”
“Do you think me ignorant?” Long supressed anger burned inside of her.
“I only meant—”
But she didn’t care what he had meant. Her entire life she had been treated as if she didn’t have a brain in her head. And yes, she had made some bad decisions, but she had made them for the right reasons. She had trusted and she had loved and it had turned out badly. But she was not an idiot. She knew far more than he gave her credit for and she could hold her silence no longer.
“Let me tell you what I have learned about the ways of the world, my lord. I have learned that I will never be good enough to win my mother’s love because in her mind, I killed my brother and therefore destroyed her life. I have learned no matter how much someone loves you, they cannot protect you from their own failings. I have learned some men tell lies to achieve their own ends and care not about who they hurt in the process. I have learned promises mean little and reputation is the difference between living and barely existing. In the past two years I have been rejected, betrayed, lied to, ruined, humiliated, and abandoned by my own mother. Do not tell me I do not know the ways of the world. I am well versed, thank you! I had no control over any of those things. The only thing I could control was how I allowed them to affect me and I was determined they would not!”
“But they did,” Spencer said quietly. “If they hadn’t, you would not have told me any of that.”
She let out a short breath and pursed her lips. She had not meant to say any of it, but perhaps he had the right of it. Perhaps she had been blind to how the events of her life had affected her, the scars they had laid across her heart. It had hardened her. Toughened her. And somewhere in the process the young girl who had believed in love and romance and white knights had disappeared.
Life was hard. One had to be practical if they were to survive it. She would do well to remember that.
“Tell me of this plan of yours.”
Spencer stared at her a moment then nodded. “I believe if my family champions you, that we will have no problem finding you a titled gentleman of good reputation to agree to a betrothal.”
“If you’ll recall, Mother, and my aunt, as well as Abigail and Nicholas have all tried this and had less than stellar results.”
“Ah, but their attempts lacked one very important aspect.” A grin spread across Spencer’s handsome face. The morning sunlight bled through the window and burnished his gold hair a warm bronze and made the blue of his eyes almost transparent. He really did have the look of a fallen angel. No wonder women of the ton had found him hard to resist. Lord only knew she hadn’t been able to.
“And what is this important aspect?”
His grin widened further and a glint sparked in his eyes. “The best way to make someone want something is to tell them they can’t have it. If I show an interest in you, it will create a stir. Everyone knows I have no interest in marriage. Therefore, if I am seen to be taken with you, other gentlemen will take notice and wonder what kind of woman could make the marriage-averse Lord Huntsleigh reconsider his stance on the union. It will be like I’ve uncovered a beautiful gem that has been hidden under their noses the entire time. They’ll all wonder how they missed it. And men being men, they will want to see if they can steal the gem for themselves.”
“You have given this quite a bit of thought.”
He shrugged. “I am well known for my schemes.”
“How many of your schemes have actually come to a positive conclusion?”
“Well…I suppose it depends on your perspective. But of this scheme I have no doubt.”
It hardly mattered. She had enough doubt for the both of them. “Both Nicholas and Benedict have tried to extol my virtues to others in the hope of making me a match but to no avail.”
“Ah—” He held up a finger. “But they were missing the key component.”
“Which was?”
“Neither of them could create the illusion that they were willing to give up their bachelorhood for you. And who better to create such an illusion than—”
“The ton’s most notorious bachelor,” she finished.
He nodded. “Exactly.”
“And you think you can do this before Billingsworth ruins me?”
“The Season is just getting underway. If we act fast, and make a splash, I believe we can find you someone within the month.”
She looked across the carriage to Spencer. Who would have believed that the man society considered an unrepentant rake through and through was in fact a man of honor and kindness, humor and gentleness? Even faced with the shameful truth of her past, he had been able to look past that and agree to help her—help them both.
A shame she had not jumped on his proposal when he first offered it. Marriage to such a man as he would be a boon any woman would wish for. But she had not jumped on it, and now he knew too much about her to make her an attractive prospect even if he did want to marry—which he didn’t.
“Do you agree to
my plan?”
Did she have a choice? At least a husband would save her reputation from ruin and prevent Spencer from being forced to marry her.
“Yes. I agree to it.”
She had nothing left to lose.
* * *
The return trip to London took two days. Two days of polite conversation and stretches of long silences. It seemed after Spencer detailed his plan to her and she agreed, there remained nothing more to say.
A vast difference from when they had shared a room at The White Stag and conversation came easy. Now, a barrier separated them, held in place by the truth that Caelie was not the person Spencer had once thought. And yet, she was the same person now as at the beginning of the trip. Only his perception had changed. Her past now tainted Spencer’s opinion of her. As it would the rest of society once word reached their eager ears.
Would Spencer’s plan be successful before that happened? How long would her threats, or the ones Spencer had laid down as well, hold Billingsworth’s tongue? A clock ticked in the back of her mind, but she could not say when the gong would strike.
They would have to act fast.
When they reached London, however, and arrived at the stately home where the Laythams had lived for the past three generations, her cousin, Benedict, was nowhere to be found. Titus, the old butler who had been in service to her family for longer than her lifetime, indicated the new Lord Glenmor had gone north only two nights before to investigate a business he and Lord Blackbourne were considering investing in and it would be at least a fortnight before his return. It left the house in a rather tomb-like state with the rest of her family staying at Sheridan Park, the Earl of Blackbourne’s country seat.
“You will come home with me,” Spencer said, more of a decree than an invitation, but she took him up on it just the same. She had no interest in staying in the quiet house and she could not join her family in the country if she hoped to succeed with Spencer’s plan of finding her a husband. Besides, staying alone would hardly be proper and she had already skirted too close to the edges of impropriety of late.