Once Dishonored

by Mary Jo Putney

  Kendra moved to the front of the stage and lifted her skirt to show the parallel burn scars left by the grate. She had felt shy about showing her legs to so many strangers, but the gasp of shock from the audience was gratifying. Denshire sat bolt upright, staring at her. He hadn’t recognized her before, but now he did.

  “Lord D. left his country house and returned to London, sure that his wife would recover even though the physician had briefly despaired of Lady D.’s life. He was quite right—she did recover.

  “But the incident clearly deranged Lady D. because when she could walk again, she had her lawyers send Lord D. a letter asking for a legal separation. A ridiculous notion! He saw no benefit to himself in a separation. Yet as he thought more, he realized there would be great benefit to himself if he divorced her.

  “But the damned woman was absurdly chaste! There was no evidence that she ever played him false. It was easy to believe that because the icy wench had refused to perform her marital duties after the birth of his son.

  “Lord D. didn’t really miss her in bed because he found his London companions much warmer. But a man could only have one wife at a time, and this one was useless if she wouldn’t share her wealth with him as was his right.

  “Then he had a brilliant thought. What if he divorced her and blackened her reputation so thoroughly that he might be able to persuade a court to give him control of her trust funds on behalf of their son? Because he’d take the boy, of course, and send him to some school where Lady D. couldn’t find him. There was nothing he could do that would hurt her more, and she deserved to suffer as he had!

  “She wouldn’t oblige him by committing adultery, but since she was now in London, it would be easy to drug her to sleep, get several of his friends drunk enough that they’d succumb when a courtesan who resembled Lady D. entered the dimly lit room and seduced them. Voila! He’d have witnesses to testify to her wanton adultery.”

  Denshire exploded out of his chair, swearing furiously. “Damn you, this is a pack of filthy lies, all lies! The bitch is trying to ruin my reputation! I got my divorce fair and square and I’m not going to stay here to listen to this calumny!”

  He swept through the room—and came to a halt by the right-hand door, which was blocked by the tall, muscular figures of Major Lord William Masterson (retired) and his equally imposing half brother, Sir Damian Mackenzie. Will’s mild voice said, “You really should stay for the ending of this morality play, Lord Denshire. If you wish to repeat your claims that the story is all lies, you’ll have your chance.”

  Denshire seemed ready to attack, but as he looked at the two tall, broad, and sober gentlemen in front of the door, he backed off and looked at the other exit. Two blond men guarded it, Major Alexander Randall (retired) and the Marquess of Kingston, both of them clearly hopeful that he’d have a go at them.

  “It’s all bloody lies,” Denshire snarled again as he returned to his seat. “You’ve no proof. Finish your wild talk so I can go home!”

  “Interestingly, we do have proof in the form of a respectable witness.” Lucas turned and beckoned stage left. “Permit me to introduce Miss Molly Miller.”

  Nervous but determined, Molly walked onto the stage. She wore a neat blue gown and a black armband. She bobbed her head at Kendra, then turned to face the audience.

  “I’m Molly Miller and I was Lady Denshire’s maid for eight years. I was the one who treated her cuts and bruises and black eyes after her husband beat her. I was the one who called the doctor after she turned feverish from her burns. I was the one who treated her with cold compresses until she was no longer in danger of dying.”

  Her gaze turned hard as she stared down at Denshire. “I traveled with her to London, where she planned to seek a legal separation. Then I found her unconscious in her bed. I was unable to wake her and I feared that she was dying.

  “I sought out Lord Denshire and found him drinking with his friends. I begged him to call a physician for my lady. He laughed at me and told his most awful footman, Brody, to lock me in the basement. He told Brody that . . . that he could have me later.”

  There was an audible gasp of shock from the audience. Molly’s voice broke for a moment. “As Brody dragged me to the cellar, I managed to shove him down the stairs. To my shame, I abandoned my lady and ran for my life, alone in London with no friends and no money. The kindness of strangers preserved my life and virtue. Today I am proud to speak truth in defense of my lady!”

  This time there was applause, particularly from the women in the audience. Kendra felt tears stinging her eyes. As Molly stepped back to stand by the rear curtain, Kendra gave the girl a grateful nod.

  Lucas said, “Naturally, Lord D. had no interest in a maid, and he never gave her another moment’s thought after sending her off to be ravished. But he did think a good deal about his wife’s money. As he filed for divorce and the legal proceedings moved forward, he made repeated attempts to gain control of Lady D.’s trusts. That was entirely for the benefit of his son, of course. He sent the boy off to the Scranton School so he’d be no bother.”

  Lucas turned stage right. “Behold, more witnesses!”

  Three soberly dressed lawyers stepped onto the stage. They were Kendra’s family lawyers and they detailed the repeated legal attempts Denshire had made to gain control of Kendra’s money.

  The senior lawyer concluded by saying, “Having worked with Kendra Douglas for years, I know what a fine brain she has for investments, and I also know her handwriting. It was easy to identify the forgeries that Lord Denshire presented two or three times.” The lawyer gave a sharp smile. “He never had a chance of succeeding. The lady’s grandfather was exceptionally astute, and there was no way the trusts could be broken by an ignorant amateur.”

  Denshire scowled at the insult, but he said defiantly, “Of course I tried to gain control of her fortune for my son’s sake! In any normal marriage, I would have had control from the beginning. Nothing illegal in trying to take what was mine. But all your fancy talk doesn’t cover up the fact that the slut lay with my friends. That was the basis of the divorce. They’ve all testified to the facts and they are honest men!”

  His friends nodded uneasily, with Hollowell looking the most uneasy of all. “It’s true,” one of the others said. “She wanted me sure enough. I can’t lie and say it didn’t happen.”

  “It’s interesting that you say that,” Lucas observed with an air of innocent surprise. “Here is our final witness. Known as Aphrodite, she was hired to provide ‘entertainment’ for Lord D.’s friends that night.”

  The crucial moment had arrived. Kendra turned to the left, watching Aphrodite sweep onto the stage. She was a little shorter and rounder than Kendra, but she wore an identical gown and mask. The onlookers surely thought they were looking at twins. Shock shivered through the theater.

  Aphrodite said in a ladylike voice, “Indeed he did hire me and he paid a pretty penny for my time!”

  She and Kendra faced each other, then bowed politely as if they’d just been introduced. Lucas asked, “Have you two ever met or exchanged information with each other?”

  “No, we have not,” Kendra said.

  Aphrodite shook her head. “No, there has been no exchange between us before this moment.”

  Lucas said, “Aphrodite, can you prove it was you who entertained these gentlemen, not Lady Denshire?”

  “I certainly can!” She stepped up to the edge of the stage and looked down on Denshire and his friends. She pointed at the man on the left end. “You, sir. Naturally we were not introduced, but I remember you, of course. You have a bent Thomas, pointed west, northwest. But you knew how to use it!”

  The man blushed but didn’t look entirely displeased by her comment. “That is indeed something she might remember.”

  Aphrodite turned her attention to the next man. “You have an interesting tattoo of a lion on your left hip. Most men fancy themselves lions in such intimate situations, don’t they?” She blinked at him innocently. �
�You called out something at the critical moment. Shall I tell the world what you said?”

  “No!” He flushed violently. “I am now willing to amend my testimony to say that it must have been Aphrodite I bedded that night, not Lady Denshire.”

  Aphrodite gave a satisfied nod and moved her gaze to Hollowell “You, sir, said that you had always admired me, but that it was unseemly to lie with another man’s wife, particularly in his own house. I did my best to change your mind, but your sense of honor was stronger than my blandishments, and my blandishments are very powerful!”

  After the resulting laughter died down, she said, “We spent some time discussing the current crop of plays at the theaters until you bid me good night. I thought you were a true gentleman and friend.”

  Lucas asked, “Sir, do you believe that this is the woman who joined you that night?”

  Looking relieved, Hollowell said, “Yes, Aphrodite is surely the woman from that night. I thought her voice was not quite as I remembered, but I’d only met Lady Denshire once and supposed I must be wrong.”

  “Did you go to that show at Covent Garden I recommended?” Aphrodite said.

  Hollowell smiled. “Yes, and you were right. It was excellent.”

  Kendra had a flash of intuition then. Hollowell preferred men to women and was terrified that that fact would become known. He hadn’t wanted to lie with Aphrodite and he feared what she might say, but she had preserved his secret. An honorable woman.

  Lucas asked, “Aphrodite, did you lie with Lord Denshire before you left that night?”

  “Not bloody likely!” Aphrodite said in a much less ladylike accent. “Denshire has the French pox. I’ll take his money but I won’t lie with him. It’s not worth my life.”

  The audience exploded after Aphrodite’s revelation. Even Denshire’s friends drew away from him, appalled at the revelation. In the shocked silence, a cool, educated voice said, “I believe the Church will feel that Lady Denshire’s case should have been treated very differently.”

  Good God, could that have been the Archbishop of Canterbury? His opinion would surely affect a clerical court!

  Denshire stood alone, his life shattered even more thoroughly than Kendra’s had been. This was what he deserved, what she and her allies had worked for. She drew a shaky breath. The sight was justice, but it wasn’t pleasure.

  Wild-eyed, Denshire pulled a pocket pistol from his coat, cocking it in one angry gesture. “It’s time to end this!” he spat out.

  CHAPTER 33

  Denshire’s pocket pistol was double barreled, and he raised it toward Kendra as he hissed a vile insult at her. Lucas’s Royal Navy battle instincts kicked in and he dived at Kendra, knocking her down and covering her with his own body.

  BANG!!! A shot exploded numbingly near. Lucas felt a scorching impact across his left shoulder and the acrid scent of black powder filled the small theater.

  BANG!!! The second shot was fired an instant later. Then there was paralyzed silence. Lucas rolled off Kendra. “Are you all right!” he asked urgently.

  She blinked at him. “Slightly squashed, but otherwise well, I think. What about you? Did you just take a bullet for me?”

  “I’m . . . not sure.” Something had hit him, but it didn’t seem like a proper bullet. He sat up and dragged off his coat. “The first bullet grazed my coat but didn’t hit me. But where did the second bullet go?”

  He lurched to his feet and stared down from the stage onto Denshire’s blood-covered body. He must have put the second bullet into his own brain.

  The audience had been enjoying the drama and titillation of the performance, and the shooting had shocked them badly. Voices rose as people began emerging from their paralysis. A grim-faced Ashton cut across the room to Denshire’s body.

  By the time he arrived, Hollowell had thrown his coat over the shattered remains of his old friend. He looked as ill as Lucas felt. Death in battle was expected, but not in this civilized house surrounded by civilized people. But Denshire wasn’t civilized, and that had brought him to this end.

  Kendra had pulled herself together, so he extended his hand and helped her to her feet. “Denshire shot the other bullet at himself,” Lucas said flatly.

  “Is he . . . ?” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

  “Yes.” He drew her shaking body into his arms. “You’re safe now. You’ve been exonerated and your reputation restored.”

  “I wanted him out of my life,” she whispered. “But not . . . like this.” After a long silence, she said, “I was never madly in love with him, but I thought I loved him enough to go through life by his side. In the beginning, there were some good times.”

  “I’m glad of that,” he said gently. “No one should be remembered only for their worst acts.”

  She stepped away from him. “I must thank those who have helped me.”

  “Of course.”

  She stepped to the front of the stage. Guests were still milling about, but they were recovering from their shock. By tomorrow, most would be well pleased to have attended such a newsworthy event.

  Raising her voice, Kendra said, “I hoped that today’s performance would bring justice. I did not expect violence, and I’m sorry for how upsetting this has been.

  “But I must offer my deepest thanks to all of you who helped me to find justice, not only for myself, but I hope for other women in the future. Many of you were strangers when my campaign to restore my honor began. Now you have become friends. You are all a gift beyond imagining.”

  Her gaze moved around the stage, taking in Molly, her lawyers, and Aphrodite, who gave her a wink. Kendra smiled and winked back. Her gaze moved to the audience. Simon and Suzanne, the Kirklands, the Fencing Females, the men who had guarded the doors to prevent Denshire from leaving.

  Mariah Ashton climbed the few steps to the stage. “You’re very welcome, Kendra. I’d expected an interesting evening, but not quite this interesting!”

  Mariah was known as “the Golden Duchess,” and now that bright sweetness soothed away her guests’ last ragged edges of shock. She continued, “I don’t think it’s appropriate to return to dancing tonight, but supper will be served in the dining room. Please stay and partake of the food and relax by talking with your friends.”

  She looked down and saw that her husband was just below her, giving quiet orders to servants to remove Denshire’s body. “Most of all,” Mariah said, “hug the one you love!”

  She caught Ashton’s hand and pulled him up a step so that he was the perfect height for hugging. Their arms went around each other in an embrace that was tender, comforting, and quietly passionate. Other couples around the room did the same.

  Lucas saw that tenderness and passion among the loving couples and wanted it for himself. As guests filed out of the theater, many were arm in arm or holding hands, so Lucas caught Kendra’s hand and drew her through the curtains to the room behind. Once there, he turned so they were facing each other, still holding hands.

  “You’re free now, Kendra. Your divorce decree forbade you to marry while your former husband still lived. Now he doesn’t.”

  “I hadn’t thought that far ahead yet,” she said, a little startled.

  Damning common sense, he said, “This is surely far too premature, but would you consider marrying me when you’re ready? Please?”

  She froze. “Are you sure this is what you want? You are my white knight who has transformed my life. I have my reputation back, freedom, amazing new friends, and justice. You are under no obligation to marry me because you feel that you should.”

  “Obligation has nothing to do with it, Kendra. If I have transformed your life, you have transformed mine,” he said quietly. “When I met you, I was drifting and uncertain of who I was or what I wanted to do. Now I know who I am.” He smiled down at her. “But there are other things I’d like to be, such as your husband and a father to your two beautiful children.”

  “Do you love me?” she asked softly. “Or is it more that I’m
here and we get along well?”

  Lucas shook his head. “That’s what you had with Denshire, wasn’t it? We both deserve better. I love you as I have never loved another woman and can’t even imagine loving anyone else as much.” He studied her lovely face, her searching eyes with their deep, compassionate warmth. “I know this is too soon. You may never be able to love me, and if so, I hope you find the man you can love.” He smiled wryly. “I’m just giving a statement of intent. What you do with it is up to you.”

  She took their joined hands and laid them over her heart. “I thought that I loved Denshire enough, but I was wrong. I have feared that I love you too much.” Her face suddenly lit up. “I hope I’m wrong again! Surely there can never be too much love.”

  “Never! You have so much to give, and I’m awed and grateful that you want to give some of it to me.” He hesitated. “Forgive me for being somewhat dim, but does this mean you’ll marry me?”

  “It most certainly does!”

  “When? Denshire has been dead for less than half an hour so perhaps we should wait a decent interval.”

  “No, we should not!” she said firmly. “I refuse to let that man rule my life again in any way.” More quietly, she added, “I have been mourning the death of my marriage for a long time. Now I’m ready for my future. Our future.”

  With a deep happiness beyond words, he drew her into his arms. “With a special license, we can marry in two or three days.”

  She blinked. “I suppose we can, but wouldn’t you like to have a little more time to be sure?”

  “I’m sure now.” He grinned at her. “There’s a journey that we’re going to want to take very soon, and I’d rather not do it in separate bedrooms.”

  “A journey . . . ?” She laughed with understanding. “Of course. I hope that Simon and Suzanne have time to stand up with us in three days.”

  They did. Kendra’s allies were also available to come to the wedding and celebrate. There wasn’t a black armband in sight, and Kendra wore colors for the first time since her marriage ended. Her gown was vibrant green, the same shade as new leaves in springtime. The color of hope and rebirth.