Innocence Lost

by Tiffany Green

  The room's quietness lasted about two seconds before everyone began talking at once. Congratulations and well wishes were rained on them. Megan's throat closed up. She wanted to run from the room, from the estate, and never look back. She closed her eyes. She wanted to run to Nicholas.

  "You couldn't have made a finer choice, Daniel,” she heard his grandmother say. “Have you decided when you shall wed?"

  He grinned. “I should hope very quickly after my return, Grandmother."

  Megan almost choked.

  "My goodness, Daniel, that gives me—I mean us,” his grandmother corrected, “very little time to arrange things. Most engagements last a year—"

  "Absolutely not,” he interrupted. “Three months."

  The bottom of Megan's stomach fell away. Three months?

  "That will not do,” the dowager sputtered. “Planning a wedding takes a lot of time.” She raised her brows. “Lady Megan deserves the best, does she not?"

  Daniel sighed and nodded. “Indeed. Six months."

  "Late November?” his grandmother croaked. “Why, that simply isn't done."

  "I'm sure you will think of something,” he indicated, leading his grandmother to the sofa.

  The numbness Megan had been feeling since Daniel's proposal started to lift a bit. She gripped her hands together before her. What had she done?

  She turned and found Victoria and Evie standing before her with hands on hips. “All right, Megan. Why didn't you tell us?” Evie demanded.

  She shifted her gaze to Daniel. He was laughing at something her brother was saying. “Because I wasn't aware of it, either,” she replied softly. Why couldn't things have been different? Why couldn't Nicholas have loved her just a little? For a while, she'd thought it possible. His eyes would turn soft and sparkly as he looked at her. No one had ever looked at her like that. Had it all been an illusion? Had Nicholas been acting, as Julian suggested, for revenge? Megan had no answers. But she did know that her love for Nicholas had been true and real. And would be there forever.

  "How are you feeling, Mother?"

  "Quite a lot better, Nicholas.” She set her teacup on the table before them.

  "You should have stayed with me—"

  "And given you influenza?” Genny shook her head. “I think not. A terrible malady, that. Besides, I was quite comfortable staying with Charles."

  His young uncle hadn't come with his mother. He glanced around his drawing room. “Where is Charles, by the way? I haven't seen him in some time."

  "Oh,” she replied with a wave of her hand, “he went hawking with some friends. I am not certain when he'll return. What of Megan, darling, any progress?” she asked, then sniffed a handkerchief doused in camphor oil.

  "Julian and I have made an arrangement of sorts,” he replied.

  Her brows furrowed and she lowered the scented fabric. “What arrangement?"

  He sighed. “I must not see or speak to Megan until she decides to wed. And if I am the one she chooses, Julian will not oppose the union."

  "Well, that's wonderful, Nicholas. I'll speak to her right away about this, you shan't have to—"

  "No, Mother, there's more.” He shook his head. “Julian also stipulated that Megan can know nothing of this agreement."

  "Oh, dear. She may think that you are staying away by choice."

  The drawing room doors burst open. Jeremy hurried inside ahead of the flustered butler with a newspaper clutched in his fist. “Have you seen this? No, you haven't, or you wouldn't be sitting there so bloody calmly."

  Nicholas waved his angry butler away and rose from the sofa. “Sorry, Mother. Jeremy, what in God's name are you referring to?"

  Jeremy turned, the angry lines easing from his face. “Pray, forgive me, Your Grace. I did not see you there.” He shoved the paper into Nicholas's hands.

  "What is this?” Nicholas asked. He read the headline and his blood boiled. Megan would wed Huntington?

  "Darling, what is it?” His mother's voice sounded far away.

  A red haze filled his vision. Someone was speaking to him, but the blood pounding in his ears made it difficult to hear. He could only focus on getting his hands around Julian Westland's bloody neck. “I'm going to kill him!” he roared as he spun around and bolted from the room.

  "My lady, come quick,” Lucy said on the other side of her bedroom door.

  Megan frowned at the closed door. She set aside her volume of Catullus's poetry and rose from the chair in her sitting room. Calmly, she opened the door. If it was another man threatening suicide because she hadn't agreed to marry him...

  Julian's furious voice rang through the house. She gasped and ran down the stairs.

  Wentworth bowed and opened the drawing room door, as if he'd been expecting her.

  Her heart took a crazy leap at the sight of him standing there. Nicholas. She glanced at her brother and grew worried. The two stood face to face with their fists balled and ready to strike.

  As Julian moved forward, she flew between them. Her blood pounded hard in her ears. She stood so close to Nicholas, she could feel the heat of his body. She yearned to step into his arms. Had he come to see her? “What are you doing?” she demanded, looking from one wrathful face to the other.

  "Leave, Claremont, now,” her brother said.

  "Not until I have some answers concerning this.” Nicholas threw a crumpled newspaper down. “Damn you, Julian, you had no right.” Then his gaze shifted to her. Her heart surged up in her throat. He looked flushed with anguish. “How could you do this, Meg? Why didn't you choose me?” His voice grew hoarse, full of pain. Then he went still. “Or did you choose me and your brother did not honor our agreement?” He jerked his head up and nailed Julian with a glare.

  Confusion boiled within her. “What agreement?"

  A muscle ticked in Nicholas's cheek as he kept his eyes on her brother. “Tell her,” he demanded.

  She turned to her brother and caught the unease in his eyes. “Julian?"

  He heaved a sigh. “Moppet—"

  "Don't you dare call me that, Julian!” She poked a finger into his chest. “Tell me everything. Now!"

  With a sigh, he nodded at Nicholas. “He was not to see or speak to you until you selected a husband. And I would not oppose your decision."

  She kept her eyes locked on her brother. “Even if I had named Nicholas?"

  "Yes,” he said.

  She wanted to kill Julian.

  "Your brother also insisted that you were to know nothing of this agreement,” Nicholas added.

  A sick knot of despair rose up from the depths of her stomach. She started to tremble. Her hands fell limply to her sides. “Are you telling me,” She turned to Nicholas, “that the only reason you've been ignoring me is because of a pact you made with Julian?"

  His brows were drawn and his eyes filled with pain. He lifted his hand to touch her but halted and lowered his arm.

  "Yes, love."

  Her eyes prickled as she turned to her brother. “I cannot believe you did this."

  "Megan, I did it for you—"

  "No, Julian. You did it for you.” Oh, God, she had been so wrong about everything. Nicholas. Her brother. Everything. She trembled in earnest now.

  Nicholas moved closer. He reached out as if to steady her, but didn't touch her. “Are you all right, Megan?"

  She glanced up, her vision swimming. “You were trying to find a way for us to marry?"

  "Yes, my little nymph."

  A tear skidded down her cheek. “I-I can't. I'm betrothed to another,” she whispered, fighting for control.

  "The betrothal can be broken, my love.” He wiped the tears from her cheeks. His hand trembled as his fingertips connected with her warm, soft skin. “Will be broken."

  She closed her eyes. He could touch her forever. “How?"

  He hesitated, his hand sliding away. “It will be difficult for you,” he warned.

  "What is it?” she demanded, determined to do anything for the man she lo
ved.

  "You will probably have to inform Huntington that you're no longer a virgin."

  "That is a filthy lie, Claremont. How dare you besmirch my sister's good name?” Julian bellowed. Fury distorted his face and his eyes sparked malice.

  Megan rushed to her brother and flattened her palms against his chest.

  He looked down at her. “Tell me that wasn't the truth,” he pleaded.

  Swallowing hard, she sent up a silent prayer. “It is,” she said, keeping her palms firmly in place.

  He shook with anger, his heartbeat thundering under her hands.

  Julian's head snapped up. His lips twisted in wrath. “You bastard, I swear I am going to kill you."

  "What in the hell is going on here?” a familiar voice boomed from the doorway.

  Megan turned. Her parents stood with Nicholas's mother just inside the doorway. “Father!” she sobbed and ran into his arms.

  She heard her mother speak. “Oh, Julian, we were so worried when we thought you'd been injured."

  With a deep breath, Megan stepped out of her father's comforting embrace. She scrubbed the wetness from her cheeks and looked up. “I am so very glad that you and Mother have returned. What took you so long?"

  "The questions concerning our trip can wait. I wish to know what this is about,” he ordered, his gaze sweeping the room.

  As she started to answer, so did Nicholas and Julian. Chaos erupted. Her father demanded silence, then told everyone to sit and waved the footmen away.

  When only the clock on the mantle could be heard, her mother turned to the dowager duchess. “Genny, do you know what this is about?"

  "Indeed I do, Margaret."

  Megan twisted her hands in her lap.

  "Father—” Julian started, but Joseph silenced him again.

  Father turned back to Nicholas's mother. “Tell us, Genny,” he said.

  Megan's nervousness changed to alarm when the dowager began with how she had met Nicholas at the stream. Dear Christ, what did Nicholas's mother know?

  "Pardon me, Genny,” Father interrupted. “Megan, I'm sure you were outfitted like Clancy—Yes, I do know about that,” he added when her eyes went round, “but why didn't you tell Nicholas who you were?"

  "I...uh...” She paused to clear her throat, “I was afraid of being ostracized from Society, Father. If Nicholas knew who I was, he might have told all of London.” As her father's gaze moved away, she relaxed until he asked, “Is that all, Genny?"

  "I should explain,” Nicholas said.

  Megan dug her nails into the palms of her hands. She knew exactly what he was about to tell her parents. She wanted to scream for him to stop but heart pounded on the tip of her tongue.

  Keeping her head bowed, she listened as Nicholas explained his return from an evening at White's to find her in one of his guestrooms.

  "Why did you venture into Megan's room?” Julian interrupted.

  She squeezed her eyes shut. Dread grabbed hold of her body. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe. She could only sit there and wait for her parents to learn their only daughter was ruined.

  "I told you, I didn't know it was her,” Nicholas explained.

  "And why is that?” Julian questioned. “Your mother's note explained everything."

  A brief hesitation hung in the air before Nicholas answered. “I didn't read the note. I thought it had been a fabrication, a ruse to gain entrance into my home."

  "Then what happened?” Julian asked.

  She bit her lip and prayed something would happen to stop further discussion. A carriage overturned in the street, the house on fire, anything. When Nicholas didn't answer right away, she glanced up and found him staring murderously at Julian. Her brother, curse his rotten soul, leaned back in the chair and crossed his hands over his chest. Surely he wasn't enjoying this!

  "Nicholas?"

  Her father's voice exploded through the silence. Megan felt the blood drain from her face. Oh, God, please let her swoon. Please, please, please let her swoon. She couldn't take much more of this.

  Nicholas shifted his gaze to her father. He looked years older than he had just moments ago, she thought. “When I found Megan in the guestroom, I was incredibly happy and...well, I kissed her."

  "But that's not all you did, is it Claremont?” Julian taunted.

  Megan closed her eyes, wanting to crawl under the sofa. “No, that's not all,” Nicholas admitted quietly.

  When she felt her father tense beside her, she lifted her gaze. He was staring at Nicholas, comprehension dawning. His brows snapped together and his eyes shot white-hot sparks.

  From her position beside her father, Megan could almost feel the building force of his savagery. His face flushed with rage. When she placed her hand on his arm, she felt his muscles bunch. Dear God, he was going to kill Nicholas. “Please don't, Papa,” she whispered, her vision blurring with tears.

  "Father, surely you realize that he intentionally seduced Megan out of revenge against me?” Julian asked.

  Megan clamped onto her father's arm. “No, no, that isn't true."

  Her father swung his lethal gaze back to Nicholas as if he hadn't heard her. “Is that true?” he snarled.

  Nicholas didn't even blink. “Absolutely not, Joseph. I love Megan and wish her to be my wife."

  Open-mouthed, Megan stared at Nicholas. As he glanced down at her, his expression grew tender and love filled his eyes. She felt like weeping.

  "Well, that's not going to happen, Claremont. Megan has already agreed to marry Daniel Claiborne,” Julian replied, sounding quite satisfied with himself.

  "What?” her parents asked in unison.

  Genny intervened, informing them of Julian's guardianship, and how he had chaperoned Megan to the various galas. She also explained about the arrangement between Julian and her son.

  Megan felt her father's warm hand cover her icy fists still clamped onto his coat. “Why did you agree to marry Daniel Claiborne, darling?” he asked.

  She released her father's sleeve and took a deep breath. “I thought that Nicholas had come to regret his marriage proposal and no longer cared for me. I had no idea that he and Julian had made that agreement."

  "Do you care for Daniel Claiborne?"

  Megan considered that. “Well, he's very nice."

  "Hmmm. And Nicholas?"

  Megan turned her gaze to the sole owner of her heart. Her own heart lurched and began to pump faster. She couldn't look away.

  No one made a sound for several seconds. Tension filled the room. Megan held her breath.

  "Megan will wed Nicholas after banns are posted,” her father said.

  Nicholas sat up straighter and a huge smile split his face. Her heart flooded with joy. She would be married to the most wonderful man in the world, the man she had always loved.

  "Father, I don't think...” Julian started to say.

  Father silenced him with a look. “You, son, have never been in love, or you would have been able to recognize it. And I feel, even if you did recognize it, your animosity for Nicholas has polluted your judgment in this matter."

  "But what of her current betrothal?"

  "It can be broken."

  "That may be difficult, sir. Daniel left two days ago for Scotland,” her brother explained.

  "It seems to me that if Daniel Claiborne really wanted to marry my daughter, he would have cancelled his trip. For now, I shall have a visit with his grandmother, Anne."

  Megan worried her bottom lip between her teeth. She didn't want Daniel to be hurt by the news of her marriage to Nicholas. He had seemed so hopeful after proposing. She picked at the string of pearls around her neck. Would Daniel and his sister come to hate her?

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  CHAPTER 13

  Megan could not believe she was married. The weeks went by so quickly and the ceremony had been a blur. She glanced around the opulent Claremont townhouse foyer, and her vision settled on the stairs. She closed her eyes, recalling the last time sh
e had seen those stairs, when Nicholas accused her of trying to force him into marriage. A sharp pang sliced through her middle at the memory.

  "Megan?"

  Opening her eyes, she followed Nicholas into the parlor. She sat on the sofa while her husband spoke quietly to Carson at the door. After the brief conversation with his butler, he strode to the liquor cart and poured two drinks. His movements were stiff as he crossed the room and handed her one of the wineglasses. His eyes were troubled and a small frown curved his lips. Had Carson given him bad news?

  As the silence stretched out, she grew uneasy. She took a sip of the wine, wondering if she should ask what had happened.

  "Come, love,” he said huskily and took her wineglass.

  She placed her hand in his, ashamed to admit how anxious she was to make love with her husband. She wanted his hands all over her body, then much, much more. A shudder of anticipation raced down her spine.

  After they'd ascended the stairs, Nicholas stopped at the door next to his chambers. He brought her hand to his lips, gave it a warm and lingering kiss, then turned and stepped into his room and closed his door.

  She stood like a statue for a few minutes, staring at the polished wood. She couldn't even draw a proper breath. Had he just dismissed her for the night?

  "Is there something in your bedchamber not to your liking, Your Grace?"

  She whirled around. “Oh, Carson, I did not hear you approach.” She quickly assured the butler that her chambers were fine and hurried inside. Her hands shook as she closed the door. Her heart pounded with her confusion.

  She ran her fingers along the rose and cream bed cover and sighed. Diverting her mind from the bed and thoughts of Nicholas, she sat at the window seat. Taking a thick cushion, she held it tight to her chest. She gazed at the rest of the room. A washstand and full-length mirror stood next to an ornately carved writing desk and chair. On the opposite wall stood the fireplace, topped with an elegant white marble mantle.

  She walked into the dressing room and stopped short. Her gowns had been unpacked. Tears filled her eyes. Her parents didn't have separate rooms with separate beds. Her parents loved each other completely, and it showed with every action, every word and every look that they gave one another. And that was precisely the kind of marriage she longed for. The kind she'd thought she would have.