“Why, you weasel-faced, sneaking, lying toad,” she shouted as Biddles reeled backward, barely keeping himself from plummeting into the fountain. “I hate you. Do you hear me? I hate you.”
Holding his hand to his maltreated stomach, Biddles gave a small cough. “I should think all of London has heard you, my love.”
“Is that so. Well I . . .”
Sensing another burst of violence building within the clearly demented damsel, Hellion thought it prudent to intervene. He was uncertain what Biddles had done to cause such hostility, but he was reluctant to allow a vulgar brawl in what was left of his pathetic garden.
“Forgive me, Miss Halifax, but may I inquire what you are doing in my garden?”
She stuck out an insulting tongue toward Biddles before jerking about to stab Hellion with her smoldering gaze.
“I came here with Jane.”
Hellion’s brows snapped together. “Jane is here?”
“She was, although I do not doubt that she is already on her way home so that she can pack and return to Surrey.”
A sudden dread lodged in Hellion’s heart. “Why the devil would she return to Surrey?”
“So that she need never again clap eyes upon a gentleman who would stoop so low as to blackmail her into marriage.”
“Blackmail?” Hellion blinked, quite certain the woman had run mad. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“We heard you, Mr. Caulfield. You had that . . .” She pointed a dramatic finger toward the silent Biddles. “. . . demon digging up her father’s past just so you could hold it over her head. You are despicable. I cannot believe I ever encouraged her to wed you.”
Hellion swayed, feeling as if he had just been tossed off the edge of a cliff.
Oh God. She was no doubt feeling utterly betrayed. And wanting nothing more than to put as many miles between them as possible.
He had to stop her. To make her understand that he had never, never intended to hurt her.
“I must go,” he muttered, sprinting away before anyone could attempt to halt him.
“Oh no you don’t,” Anna gritted from behind, clenching her fists as she prepared to follow.
Unfortunately at that moment a strong arm wrapped about her waist to put paid to her efforts.
“Leave it be, my dear,” Biddles drawled near her ear. “This is between Hellion and Jane.”
Easily spinning in his grip Anna turned about, and as he smiled his wicked smile she promptly acquainted her fist with his distinctive nose.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
From the diary of Miss Jane Middleton, May 25th, 1814:
P.S. Diary,
I suppose every woman must endure a broken heart at least once in her life. Unfortunate, of course, since I have discovered it a most unpleasant experience. Oh, not just the agonizing pain that is only to be expected. Or the heaviness of spirits that gives a bleakness to the entire world. Or even the ridiculous tears that refuse to be stemmed no matter how sternly one might lecture oneself.
It is more the horrid fear that one has lost some vital part of oneself.
The terrifying emptiness is nearly more than I can bear. How do I go on?
The answer quite simply is that I must.
Life has not halted, nor have my responsibilities vanished just because I desire to crawl beneath the covers and grieve at my stupidity.
Countless women have survived broken hearts throughout the ages; no doubt so shall I.
Yes, no doubt . . .
With her usual precision Jane set about packing her cases.
After a hearty bout of tears that had lasted until she had reached the town house and finally her chambers, an icy numbness had settled within her ravaged heart.
Thankfully her common sense had also managed to survive. A common sense that told her that nothing could be gained by remaining in London.
At the moment she was in no condition to seek another potential husband. The mere thought was enough to make her stomach queasy. And goodness knew, there was nothing else to keep her.
Besides which, she had to admit she was enough of a coward to go to any lengths to avoid accidentally bumping into Hellion. She could not hope the blessed numbness would last, and the thought of breaking down before the treacherous gentleman was something her pride simply could not bear.
No it was best she return to Surrey and consider her future when the pangs of unrequited love had managed to fade.
And they would fade, she told herself fiercely, folding her shifts so neatly the edges could slice through paper. She was not about to pine away for a gentleman who was too foolish not to return her love.
A gentleman who would wed her because it was the simplest solution to his current difficulties.
Gathering her stockings Jane only faintly heard the sound of her butler’s raised voice echoing through the hallway. She presumed that a message arrived for her elderly companion that naturally demanded a shout in her ear to be conveyed, or that the chambermaid was once again caught sneaking off from her duties to lure a kiss from the footman.
It was not until she heard the sound of her door being firmly closed and bolted that she belatedly turned about to discover Hellion regarding her with a fierce expression.
With her knees suddenly weak she reached out to grasp for the bedpost, a wrenching pain wracking her body.
Oh God, to see him standing there. So close she could reach out and touch him, but as distant as the angels in heaven.
It was unbearable.
Taking a step forward Hellion closely studied her pale features until his gaze flicked toward the open case upon the bed.
“Running away, my love?” he rasped.
It would be ridiculous to deny her imminent flight. Not with the evidence piled all about her.
Still it rubbed her wounded pride to be accused of such cowardice.
“I am returning to Surrey,” she grudgingly retorted. “It has become obvious that I should never have come here.”
“You came here to find a husband.”
She stiffened at his audacious remark. Why, the insensitive lout! Did he not possess the least shame?
“Unfortunately no one was kind enough to warn me that London was filled with deceitful cads who have no respect for women. Now I know better.”
She thought he might have winced at her thrust, but it was impossible to determine from his grim features.
“Because of what you overheard in the garden?”
So, he had discovered she was quite aware of his betrayal. Not so surprising. No doubt Anna had attacked him with a nearby spade.
A pity she seemed to have missed any vital organs.
She tilted her chin to a haughty angle. “I do not wish to discuss this.”
“That is a pity, because I do.”
Her teeth ground together. “Get out of my house, Hellion.”
“No. Not until you have heard what I have to say.”
He took another step forward and in sudden panic Jane whirled to pace toward the window. God, she could not allow him to touch her.
“I have no desire to hear more of your lies.”
“More? When have I lied to you, Jane?” he demanded.
She was certain she could think of a dozen occasions if only her brain was not refusing to work properly. Instead she could only give a shake of her head.
“Just go away.”
There was a moment’s pause, as if Hellion were carefully considering his words. As well he should. In her current temper the notion of launching the nearby chamber pot at his head was not beyond possibility.
“Jane, what you overheard in the garden is not what you think.”
“You mean that Lord Bidwell was not spying into my father’s past?”
“He was, but . . .”
“Then it was exactly what I thought.”
A harsh sigh echoed through the room. “Jane, I asked Biddles to discover a secret concerning you when you first approached me with your proposition. I did not
know you or if you might have some nefarious purpose in approaching me. It seemed best to have a means of protecting myself.”
Her heart clenched. “Is that supposed to make your deception more acceptable?”
“It is simply the truth.”
“And you had no intention of using the information to ensure that I said yes to your marriage proposal?” she demanded in soft tones.
She heard him shift impatiently, clearly reluctant to answer her blunt question.
“I do not know. You have me so addle-witted that I can barely recognize myself anymore.”
Jane briefly closed her eyes before forcing herself to slowly turn and meet his searing gaze. Perhaps it was for the best that Hellion had arrived before she left for Surrey, she told herself. It would plague her forever if she left, allowing him to believe her father was no better than a common thief.
“Well, allow me to save you the bother of threatening me. My father was not responsible for those uniforms.”
This time there was no mistaking his wince as he took a jerky step forward.
“Jane, it does not matter . . .”
“It does to me,” she interrupted in fierce tones. “I will not have anyone speak ill of my father.”
“Very well.”
Folding her arms over her waist Jane willed her voice not to quaver.
“When my father agreed to provide uniforms for the army he was approached by Mr. Emerson. The two were competitors, but they were also friends from childhood. Mr. Emerson told my father that he was horribly near financial ruin. Indeed, he was terrified he might very well end up in debtors’ prison if he did not have a means of turning his fortunes around.” She grimaced as she recalled her father’s kindly heart. “Of course my father agreed to help. He could never turn away someone in need so he allowed Mr. Emerson to manufacture the actual uniforms while my father provided him with the material.”
His features softened with a hint of sympathy. “I presume his work was not up to your father’s standards?”
“It was utterly inferior. Not only were they poorly cut and sewn, but he had secretly sold the fine wool my father had provided and replaced it with a cheap weave.”
He lifted his hand as if to touch her, only to abruptly drop it as she took a hasty step backward.
“Your father must have been very disappointed.”
“He was devastated. His friend had deceived him, and worse, he was blamed for the entire debacle. It was only because my father was able to replace the uniforms quite swiftly that charges were not brought against him.”
“A most unfortunate incident,” he said softly.
“Yes, but my father was innocent.”
A faint smile touched his lips. “I must admit that I found it difficult to believe the gentleman that you hold in such high esteem could have been involved in such a sordid scheme.”
Jane arched her brows in obvious disbelief. “Indeed?”
“Of course. It was only . . .”
“Hellion, I am rather busy at the moment,” she interrupted in abrupt tones, not desiring to hear any excuses he might have to offer. What did it matter? The fact that he had delved into her father’s past had hurt, but it was not the reason she was returning to Surrey. “I think it best if you leave.”
Hellion’s brows furrowed as his eyes seemed to darken with pain. “For God’s sake, I am sorry. I never intended to hurt you, Jane. You must know that is the last thing I would ever want.”
The sight of his pleading expression nearly threatened to shatter her fragile composure. Odd, considering she was supposed to be damn well furious with him.
“Please do not,” she muttered, turning toward the bed to absently fold a shawl that was already perfectly well folded. “I was a fool to believe for a moment that we could be more than passing acquaintances.”
“Passing . . .” There was a moment of shocked disbelief before Hellion was at her side, roughly snatching the shawl from her hands and tossing it aside. “I would say we have been a damn sight more than passing acquaintances. I have the scratches and bite marks to prove it. Shall I show them to you?”
Her cheeks burned at the fierce words, but not entirely out of embarrassment. She possessed a most vivid memory of how he came about those scratches and bites. And the heated pleasure that had been exploding through her at that precise moment.
“That is not what I meant.”
His hand reached out to run a light finger down the back of her neck. “I know you better than you know yourself, Jane.”
A shiver of pure delight raced down her spine at his touch. Gads, it was so vexingly unfair that the one gentleman she could not possibly have should be capable of stirring such magic within her.
Sucking in a deep breath she forced herself to ignore the desire to lean against the warmth of his male body.
She would not be seduced into making a decision that they would both live to regret.
“And yet you know nothing of yourself,” she said in tones that were more sad than angry.
His light touch stilled. “What the devil is that supposed to mean?”
Stepping from the distracting fingers she turned to face him squarely. “Why do you desire to wed me, Hellion?”
“You know why.”
“Tell me.”
He regarded her closely, as if seeking to determine what words might offer the best comfort.
“I believe we will suit one another quite well. I admire your intelligence as well as your kind heart. More importantly I admire your independent spirit, which is a damn sight more than most gentlemen could claim.” His gaze deliberately lowered to her lips. “And of course, there is that undeniable fact that I desire you to the point of madness. It is more than most marriages possess.”
She pressed her hands to her churning stomach. Whatever the truth of his words she would not be swayed. Not again.
“Perhaps, but I believe that you have left out the most important reason you desire me as a wife.”
His expression became guarded. “What is that?”
“My fortune, of course.”
A prickling tension entered the air as he slowly narrowed his gaze.
“You do not think you are being rather a hypocrite to accuse me of wedding you for your fortune when that was precisely the requirement you demanded in a husband?”
“I do not speak of my own feelings upon the matter,” she corrected in a low voice, “but yours.”
“My feelings?”
“You would never be happy as my husband. Not truly.”
“You are so wise you can see the future?” he demanded, an icy anger entering his dark eyes.
Jane unconsciously rubbed the skin of her arms, as if sensing a danger just out of sight.
“Oh for goodness sakes, Hellion, we both know in time you will come to despise yourself for having reduced yourself to a fortune hunter. And in turn you will come to despise me as well.”
His hands clenched as he abruptly turned on his heel and paced across the room. For a moment she thought he might simply walk out of the door and wash his hands of her utterly. Then swinging back toward her he stabbed her with a glare.
“You are the one reducing me to a fortune hunter,” he said with an awful calm. “It had been my rather absurd belief that I genuinely cared for you. Obviously I am too stupid to be allowed to know my own heart.”
Jane inwardly cringed, not expecting the wounded darkness in his eyes. She surely could not have hurt him? How could she when his heart was not involved?
“Hellion, please . . .”
“Oh no, do not become squeamish at this point, my love,” he snarled as he folded his arms over his chest. “If you have any further insults to fling at my head you should do so without hesitation. I should hate to think of you brooding alone in Surrey with the regret that you did not manage to reduce my vile character to utter shreds.”
She gave a slow shake of her head, her stomach so tightly clenched that she feared she might be sick. Why was
he making this so damnably difficult? It was not as if there weren’t dozens and dozens of wealthy débutantes, all anxious to toss themselves at his feet.
“That was not my intention at all.”
“Then I should hate to think what you could accomplish should you set your mind to it.”
Jane heaved a sigh. She had been so furious with Hellion. And rightly so. He had not only pursued her with a relentless determination that had made her behave in a foolish manner, but he had pried shamelessly into her most private affairs.
Now, however, her treacherous heart could not bear for him to believe she would ever think ill of him.
“You are not vile, Hellion,” she said softly. “Indeed, you are a wonderful gentleman that shall someday make some fortunate woman very happy. Just not . . .”
“Just not wonderful enough for you,” he broke in with bitter tones.
Jane took a step closer, her expression troubled. “Just not until you have accepted that you have no need to depend upon another. Not your uncle. And certainly not me.”
“Depend upon?” If anything his expression only became more remote. “Now you are implying that I am weak?”
A flare of exasperation tightened her lips. “You are willfully misunderstanding me.”
“Then halt this ridiculous babbling and tell me what you mean.”
She bit her lip, not at all certain whether or not to try a sensible conversation when he was in such a foul temper. He appeared remarkably determined to cast her as the villain of this absurd drama. Ridiculous, considering dull, staid spinsters were never the villain.
“Very well,” she at last capitulated. And why not? Hellion would not allow her to rest until he had satisfied himself she had confessed all. Resisting the urge to turn away she forced herself to meet his glittering gaze without flinching. “You are strong and intelligent and quite capable of achieving anything you might set your mind to, but not so long as you allow yourself to drift along the path with the least amount of effort.”
Some Like It Wicked (Hellion's Den) Page 23