Once Dishonored

by Mary Jo Putney

  Kendra barely had time to register the danger before the altercation was over and their assailants had fled into the night, leaving only dark splotches of blood on the street. Voice shaky, she said, “Are you all right?”

  Lucas stared at the blood, seeming almost as startled by his successful defense against the thieves as Kendra was. “I’m fine. What about you?”

  “Shaken, but well enough.” She drew a deep breath, steadying her nerves. “Do all Franciscan friars fight as well as you?”

  “As I said, I was never a true friar.” He produced a handkerchief and wiped blood from the blade of his dirk before sheathing the weapon and retrieving his fallen hat. After donning it, he offered her his arm. “It’s interesting how the old sailor skills are there when needed.”

  “Quick thinking being one of those skills.” She took his arm since her knees were unsteady. “When those men attacked, I was as paralyzed as a rabbit. By the time my mind started working again, you’d dispatched all three of the villains.”

  “Reacting quickly to danger is developed by practice. Be grateful you haven’t needed to attain that particular skill,” he said dryly. “Fortunately, Duval House is just around the corner. I’ve had enough fresh air for the moment.”

  As they resumed walking, she said, “We escaped unscathed, so I guess this little incident qualifies as interesting rather than disastrous.”

  “Any fight one can walk away from is a good fight.”

  After a dozen silent steps, she said quietly, “You’ve lived several very different lives, haven’t you?”

  Another dozen steps before he replied, “Yes, and I need to get those different parts of my past into harmony with each other. The naval officer and the Franciscan are opposites. The prisoner of war . . .” He shook his head and said no more.

  She thought about his words. Her ally was a most interestingly complicated man. That must be why he was so accepting of her.

  And thank heaven for that! She needed as many allies as she could find.

  CHAPTER 6

  Lucas suspected that Kendra was nervous at meeting Simon and Suzanne, but she concealed it well. The only sign of her anxiety was the lift of her chin as she entered the drawing room beside him. It was the same damn-your-eyes bravado she’d showed when she strode into the middle of the ballroom the night before.

  He’d admired her courage then. This time he felt a jolt of reaction so intense and unexpected that at first he didn’t recognize it as desire. He and desire had been strangers for a very long time. As a prisoner of war, then a de facto celibate friar, he’d lacked opportunities. Not to mention that he refused to behave dishonorably again.

  He hadn’t stopped noticing what women looked like; when he’d met Suzanne, he’d immediately been struck by her beauty. But that recognition had been distant and impersonal and would have been so even if she weren’t Simon’s wife.

  Kendra, with her courage and pain, touched something long frozen inside of him, a fact that was interesting and rather disturbing. Those thoughts raced through his mind but didn’t interfere with introductions. “Simon and Suzanne, this is Lady Denshire, but she prefers her maiden name of Kendra Douglas.”

  Simon rose and gave her a friendly smile. “Welcome, Kendra Douglas. I’m Simon Duval and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Thank you, Colonel Duval. The pleasure is mine,” she said sincerely.

  Suzanne also rose with a warm, welcoming smile. It was the same welcome she’d given Lucas when he showed up on her doorstep in Brussels, having left the Franciscan life behind him but having no idea what came next. Now that he thought of it, this was very like the warm welcome his aunt Duval gave Lucas when her orphaned nephew had arrived in this house. No wonder Simon had fallen in love with Suzanne.

  “You’re probably thinking they don’t look much alike for first cousins, and you’re right,” Suzanne said in a soft voice with a hint of a French accent. “But they both listen exceptionally well for men.”

  Kendra smiled back, her expression easing at the acceptance she was offered. “A rare and wonderful trait, isn’t it?”

  Suzanne was about to say more when her gaze fixed on Lucas. “There’s blood on your shirt!”

  Simon became dangerously alert. “What happened?”

  Lucas glanced down and saw the dark splatters on his white linen shirt. The stains were already turning brown. He made a dismissive motion. “Not my blood. We were attacked by some street robbers, but they were easily sent on their way.”

  “What he means,” Kendra said, “is that using his Royal Navy dirk and some rather amazing fighting ability, your cousin drove them off before I had enough sense to scream or run.”

  Simon nodded approvingly. “Nice to know that you haven’t lost your old skills, almost-brother.”

  Lucas gave an embarrassed shrug. “They were amateurs. No one died so it was no great matter.”

  “But surely it was unnerving!” Suzanne’s gaze returned to Kendra. “Lucas told us something of your situation. I hope we can help you find some justice.”

  “I hope so, too,” Kendra said in a low voice. “I haven’t known where to start.”

  “We’ll think of something,” Suzanne said. “But first we will eat and drink because good food and conversation lead to good ideas.”

  Simon smiled and rested a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “I think my good French cook was the reason she agreed to marry me.”

  “Not the only reason,” Suzanne said serenely, “but it was most certainly on the list! Come now and relax and have a glass of wine before we dine. Later we will talk.”

  * * *

  Kendra quickly realized that Lucas had been right that she would like his cousins, and that they were understanding people. Dinner was simple, delicious French country food that helped create an atmosphere of warmth and easy conversation. By the time they’d finished the cheese course, they were all on a first-name basis.

  At a signal from Suzanne, they adjourned to the drawing room and coffee was served. Her hostess handed Kendra a steaming cup. “Now we talk. Tell us your story.”

  Simon added, “I recall hearing the divorce case had some unusual legal features, but I don’t know what they were.”

  Kendra’s ease vanished and she cradled the hot cup of coffee to warm her shaking hands. But speaking to Lucas the night before made it easier to tell her story this time. After sketching out what had really happened, she said, “The legal case was unusual in several ways. Usually the injured husband charges his wife’s lover with criminal conversation in a civil suit. If successful, the lover pays a large fine for alienation of affection.

  “Then comes the ecclesiastical trial in which the husband charges his wife with adultery and demands legal separation. What made this suit different was there was no one lover to charge. Instead, Denshire claimed that my behavior was so heinous that I should pay a massive fine for my adulterous actions. The legal issues are still being sorted out, but so far, Denshire has been winning with his arguments because he convinced the courts that my behavior was vile beyond belief.” Her voice turned bitter. “Naturally I can’t testify because I’m a woman.”

  As she went into greater detail, Suzanne pressed her fist against her mouth, her eyes stark. Simon was very still and radiated a quiet, cold rage. Lucas looked . . . dangerous.

  When Kendra finished her tale, Suzanne leaned forward and squeezed her hand. “I’m so sorry for what you’ve endured,” she said compassionately. “I don’t suppose it would be wise to just shoot Lord Denshire.”

  The words were so incongruous coming from Suzanne that everyone laughed, breaking the tension. “No, my bloodthirsty darling,” Simon said affectionately. “It would not be wise. Denshire might deserve it, but the first person they’d come for would be Kendra, and she has enough troubles.”

  Lucas caught Kendra’s gaze. “You said that most of all, you want your son. Have you seen him at all since the divorce case started?”

  “Not even once! If
I knew where he was, I’d steal him away and take him to one of the colonies,” Kendra said fiercely. “But I just don’t know. I’m sure he’s not in the London house. He could be anywhere. In a school, with a friend or relative in the most distant part of Britain. Denshire was never interested in Christopher as anything but an heir, so he wouldn’t want to keep him close. I’ve considered hiring a Bow Street Runner to look for him, but one small boy . . .” She shook her head. “He’s a needle in a haystack.”

  “Now that I have a child of my own, I understand the passionate need to do anything to protect that child,” Simon said quietly. “But if you take your son out of the country, you’d never be able to return to England, and you’d deprive your son of his heritage and his inheritance from his father.”

  “I know,” Kendra said. “But apart from the title, there won’t be much to inherit. Denshire will have mortgaged himself into bankruptcy. I think Christopher will be better off with a parent who loves him.”

  “That’s certainly true,” Lucas agreed, “but it would be better yet to have your name cleared so you could regain custody of your son while living in your own country.”

  “How is that even possible?” Kendra asked bitterly. “I was unable to testify in my own defense. The court decided that Denshire was the injured party, I receive no jointure or support since I have money of my own, I can’t remarry even if I wanted to, and”—her voice broke—“they decided I’m unfit to be a mother to my own child!”

  “That’s monstrous!” Suzanne exclaimed. “You’re even forbidden to remarry?”

  Kendra shrugged. “I can’t imagine ever marrying again, so it’s the least of the injustices. Losing Christopher is by far the worst of them, but I would like to be able to move freely in society without people withdrawing in horror as if I’m a leper. I’d also dearly love to expose Denshire’s monstrous behavior so that the scandal is shifted from me to him, where it belongs. But I can’t imagine how that can be done.”

  “I don’t know if that can be accomplished in the eyes of the law, but perhaps Denshire can be tried and condemned in the court of public opinion,” Simon said with narrowed eyes. “A large amount of convincing evidence would be required. Credible witnesses to what actually happened that evil night. Ideally, recantation from one or more of the men who testified on Denshire’s behalf.”

  Lucas said slowly, “I have an idea. Though it may be mad.”

  “Tell us the idea and we’ll let you know if it’s mad,” Suzanne said helpfully.

  “Kendra wants custody of her son and her reputation restored. Both were taken away by the legal system, and perhaps that is how they need to be restored.”

  Kendra frowned. “That sounds reasonable, but how can that be accomplished when women have so little legal standing?”

  “As a peer of the realm, I can introduce a Personal Act in the House of Lords to redress a specific wrong once we have incontrovertible evidence,” Lucas explained. “I would introduce the private bill charging Denshire with fraud and defamation, and pointing out that it’s proof he’s unfit to be the guardian of his son.”

  There was a collective gasp from the others. Simon said, “It’s a bold and imaginative plan, but can it work? Has there ever been a private bill like this introduced into the Lords?”

  “I have no idea, but a peer of the realm has a great deal of freedom as to what bills he introduces.” Lucas’s mouth twisted. “It’s ironic that Kendra was not allowed to speak on her own behalf, but a man, even a dishonored one like me, will be listened to. Not fair, but the way of the world.”

  “It might not be necessary to go as far as introducing a private bill, Lucas,” Suzanne said. “If we have compelling evidence, we can present it to Denshire and ask if he wants to make himself an object of disgust and loathing among his peers. We’ll refrain from making his crimes public if he gives custody of Christopher to Kendra. It’s not as good as utterly destroying his public reputation, but it would achieve Kendra’s most important goal.”

  “Blackmail.” Kendra’s brows furrowed. “That might work. He has more than his share of pride and wouldn’t want his reputation to be blackened before his friends. But it would take a great deal of evidence to convince him.”

  “There are many kinds of evidence,” Suzanne said, her gaze probing. “Kendra, did Denshire ever seriously injure you? Seriously enough that it would be an outrage to decency?”

  Kendra felt her blood drain away as the other woman’s words struck her deepest shame. She hadn’t wanted to reveal this, yet honesty was her best hope for freeing herself from her current hell. She dropped her gaze and whispered, “Yes, he beat me when he wanted money.”

  Suzanne gripped her hand, hard. When Kendra met her gaze, she realized that Suzanne had her own bitter experiences of male violence toward women.

  That knowledge encouraged Kendra to reveal more. “Denshire’s bullying and occasional brutality was why I spent most of my time in the country with Christopher. I reached my breaking point several months ago when Denshire came to the estate to demand money.”

  “What happened then?” Suzanne asked, her green eyes steady and understanding.

  “When I told him I would never give him money again, he attacked me in a drunken rage. This time I fought back and he knocked me into the fireplace. My left leg slammed into the hot grate and at first I was too numbed to escape,” Kendra said in a rush of painful words. “So he left me there to burn.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Kendra’s words produced shocked silence until Suzanne exclaimed, “Dear God, how ghastly! Your clothing caught on fire?”

  “I screamed and rolled onto the carpet and used my shawl to smother the flames. Luckily my hands weren’t badly burned.” The iron bars of the grate had branded a pattern on her lower leg and the pain had been excruciating. “I vaguely remember Denshire babbling that he hadn’t meant to hurt me before he bolted back to London.”

  “He didn’t even wait to see how seriously you were injured?” Lucas said incredulously.

  “He doesn’t like unpleasantness, even when he’s the one who created it,” Kendra said dryly. She bent and raised her hem to her knees. The viciously red parallel scars on her left calf were visible even through her silk stockings. She supposed they’d lighten with time, but they’d always be with her.

  Her companions stared at the scars, shocked. Kendra dropped the hem of her skirt and straightened up. “This isn’t necessarily proof that my husband assaulted me. I could have just been clumsy and stumbled into the fireplace all on my own.”

  “What about the servants?” Lucas asked. “Was a doctor called?”

  “My maid heard the commotion and found me collapsed on the floor, but she didn’t actually see what happened. A doctor was called and he bandaged the burns and gave me strong doses of laudanum for the pain. When I recovered my wits several days later, I found that Denshire had taken Christopher with him.”

  There was another frozen silence before Suzanne whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

  The pain of losing Christopher had been even worse than the physical agony Kendra had suffered. Doing her best to keep her voice steady, she said, “I decided to seek a legal separation. Denshire and I hadn’t been husband and wife for years, and since Christopher was young, it was reasonable to leave him in my care until he was old enough to go to school. So I traveled to London to speak to Denshire.

  “He looked surly when I explained my intentions, but he didn’t object. I thought that was because I said I would settle a sizable sum of money on him and he wanted money more than he wanted to see his son.” She forced herself to tamp down her rising anger. “Instead, three days later he arranged his fraudulent scene for divorce.”

  Voice steely, Simon said, “I’m rethinking whether we should arrange to have Denshire shot.”

  “Very, very appealing,” Lucas agreed, his compassionate gaze on Kendra. “But again, that could rebound on Kendra.”

  Simon lifted the decanter and poured more bra
ndy for each of them. “I’ve always found a moderate amount of brandy aids in developing strategy. If necessary, Lucas can introduce a private bill, but what else might be done before that?”

  “Find a good lawyer who understands the ins and outs of divorce law,” Lucas said. “Civil and church courts are involved, but I don’t know more than that.”

  Simon and Suzanne exchanged a glance. “Kirkland!” they said almost simultaneously.

  “Is he a lawyer?” Kendra asked.

  “Kirkland is an earl who knows many people and is very good at getting things done behind the scenes,” Simon explained. “I might not have mentioned it at the time, Lucas, but Kirkland is the owner of the house in Brussels where we stayed before and after Waterloo.”

  “Oh?” Lucas said with interest. “The house with a staff who had so many interesting and varied talents. If he knows people like that here in England, he might be able to locate the witnesses that Kendra needs to build her case.”

  “Exactly,” Suzanne said, her gaze going to Kendra. “Think of Kirkland as a handsome, charming spider in the center of a vast web of useful people. Now that Napoleon has been exiled to that island in the South Atlantic, Kirkland should have time on his hands, and I think he’d be willing to support justice for a wronged woman.”

  “He’s some sort of spymaster?” Kendra guessed.

  “One could say that,” Simon said blandly. “Or one could merely say that he counts among his friends many influential men whom he can call upon if needful.”

  “And many of those men have wives who are kind and open-minded,” Suzanne added. “I can invite some of the ones I know to tea so you can enlist them in your cause. That will lead to invitations to their entertainments and a chance to sway public opinion.

  “But clearing your name publicly will not be easy. You will have to prove the truth of your situation by standing in front of others and showing your pain, knowing that some will spit on it. You will have to endure a great deal, and the result is uncertain. Are you willing to face all that?”