by Stacy Reid
Lady Gladstone swayed and recognition dawned on her face. “I…I… Wolverton?”
Before he could confirm his identity the countess’s rounded eyes slashed to the frozen young lady and a sneer curled the countess’s lips.
“How could you, Miss Adeline? I will see you ruined for this.”
Adeline…beautiful, an inane thought to have at this very moment, but he thought her name as comely as her face and figure.
The young girl jerked to her feet. “Lady Gladstone, I entered the wrong room. I never intended—”
“You knew full well whose chamber you were crawling into, you wanton tramp!”
Lady Marriot gasped and Miss Adeline sucked in a harsh breath. Red bloomed on her cheeks, and he detected the slight tremble of her frame.
The countess, righteous in her fury, marched farther into the chamber toward the young lady. “I will see that your family is not welcomed in any drawing room in all of London. How dare you come into my home and—”
“You forget yourself, madam, and you will hold your tongue,” Edmond said with icy disdain, sudden fury pounding through his veins at the uncalled for attack. It was evident to all Miss Adeline was already mortified. What did the countess hope to gain from besmirching her further?
His hostess flushed and tried to stammer an apology, which he waved off, impatient to be alone so he could dress and deal with the matter before it turned into a circus. “I would be obliged if everyone departed. I will be out shortly,” he said in a far milder tone.
“Miss Adeline is my fiancée, and I demand satisfaction for the insult,” Lord Vale hissed coldly. “I demand your full name so I may have my seconds call on you. This is a matter of honor.”
Edmond did not even acknowledge Vale’s asinine demand for a duel. From what Edmond knew of the earl’s character, he wouldn’t know honor if it strolled up to him and bit him on the ass.
A visible shiver went through Miss Adeline. “I am not his affianced lady.”
The earl glowered and she straightened her spine, looking past him. The spark of fire intrigued Edmond and he suppressed the flare of interest. He should not care to know why she had recklessly thought to compromise someone, and why she was not twittering with excitement at the hope of being Lord Vale’s countess.
Voices rose from in the hallway and footsteps moved closer. The vultures were already swarming. “Close the door,” he ordered flatly. Things were already beyond the pale.
Lord Gladstone flushed and complied. “Wolverton, this is insupportable,” he growled.
As if he were just hearing Edmond’s title, Lord Vale stiffened and he peered closer into the dark. Edmond did not move from his shadowy corner. He was naked. The gossip would turn into something much harsher and vindictive if they were to realize his state. “I urge everyone to depart my chamber. I would caution silence.”
Immediately the young lady took a step toward the door.
“We must repair this damage. Whatever happened must never leave this room,” young viscount Ravenswood said with a heavy sigh.
“I agree,” Lady Gladstone said, pressing a palm to her stomach.
“Surely you do not believe such a thing possible,” Lady Marriot interjected, looking too pleased. There was no doubt she was eager to depart and provide fodder for the throng. “All of society is in the hall, and they will not depart until they see who has left the chamber.”
Miss Adeline’s throat worked as she attempted to swallow. Eyes glistening with tears scanned the room, not fully settling on anyone.
The countess inhaled. “What are we to do?”
Edmond stifled a curse. “Gladstone, I will meet you in your office shortly. I will also speak with Miss Adeline’s parents if they are here. It may not have any weight, but I would like to at least assure them their daughter’s virtue is intact. You entered this chamber quite shortly after her.”
The silence was heavy. Several eyes settled on the young lady, noting her apparel, her bare toes peeking from the hem of her night rail, and the tumbled mass of beautiful silken hair. It did not escape Edmond that Ravenswood, Gladstone, and Lord Vale narrowed in on her obviously swollen and thoroughly ravished lips.
Hell. Edmond could walk away and remained unscathed. Society was ridiculous enough where all blame for this mishap would be placed wholly at her feet. He noted the pained awareness glimmering in her eyes, a quiet desperation that hinted at her position in society.
If he walked away, she would be crushed. There was no choice but to marry her. With ruthless will, Edmond rebuilt the walls she had cracked and doused his desire. He would make an offer, but never must he allow her intimacy. He would have to be resolute in keeping away from her bed until he was ready, if he was ever ready.
But his daughters would have a mother.
Chapter Five
Adel’s cheeks blazed as she held her head high and rushed from the chamber and faltered. It seemed all the guests were outside. There was a moment of shocked silence in the hall as they regarded her. Belatedly she realized only about a dozen people were there, but two well-placed ladies were all that would be needed for society to learn of her folly. She identified the Countess of Livingston, the Marchioness of Deerwood, and several influential society matrons. Adel fought the tears burning to spill as the voices rose, overlapping one another so rabid they were, scenting fresh blood. The scandal sheets would be burning for weeks with this debacle.
She squared her shoulders and pushed past the many eyes heavy with speculation, some with pity, and others with scorn.
“Whose chamber was she in?”
“I do not know.”
“The duke’s.”
Her knees weakened, and she stumbled. Good Heavens! He is a duke? She was caught in flagrante with a duke. Oh…oh…oh! They were ruined. The Viscountess of Sheffield’s daughter had claimed the Earl of Maschelly tried to seduce her. The family had not been able to bring him up to scratch and their daughter had fled to Scotland to avoid the outrage of society’s derision. The earl, of course, had been unruffled by her humiliation. What would the duke do to Adel and her family after this disgrace? Would Mr. Atwood still wish to wed her?
“Which one?”
“Wolverton.”
“The mad duke?” Equal fascination and shock was implied.
Dread sat heavy in Adel’s stomach. How had this happened? Lady Gladstone had called him by his title, but somehow in Adel’s distress it had not truly resounded. Even she had heard whispers of Wolverton. The duke was reputed to be influential with other lords, coldly distant, frighteningly uncivil, and shockingly handsome.
“He has said he would never remarry. There is no hope for her if she was thinking to force his hand.”
“It is far more likely she succumbed to his shocking handsomeness and virility.”
A few voices laughed, though it was hard to identify who, as they all had their fans poised demurely in front of their mouths.
“Perhaps she is already with child, and it is her he attended the house party for. We know of what goes on behind closed door at these gatherings.”
“Scandalous!”
“Indeed, remember many say the true objective of a well-organized house party is to provide ample opportunities to engage in that sort of dalliance.”
Desperate to escape the unkind whispers, Adel headed for her chamber without looking behind her. With every step she felt the awful weight of their eyes boring into her back. Never had she imagined the night would end like this. Unable to walk at a sedate pace, she gripped the folds of her gown and ran down the hall until she reached her chamber. She wrenched the door open, then slammed it closed. She leaned against the frame for support, pressing the heel of her palm on her forehead.
What am I to do? She tried to marshal her thoughts and reason around the panic rearing its head. First she needed to alert her father, then speak with Mr. Atwood, Evie, and then…
The door pushed, and Adel lurched around.
“Oh, Evie,” Adel g
asped, and shocked herself by bursting into raw ugly tears. “Oh, forgive me. I fear my nerves are shattered.”
Evie’s eyes were red rimmed, and she looked broken and guilty. “Dress quickly. Mamma is coming.”
Then she hurried to the armoire and selected a pale yellow high waist gown that had already been pressed for tomorrow’s croquet match. Responding to Evie’s urgency, Adel shrugged from the voluminous nightgown and slipped on her underclothes and the dress with Evie’s aid.
The door to her chamber crashed opened once again.
The countess stormed in, lips flattened, eyes pinched in fury. What is it? When Adel had concocted her plan, she understood she would have earned the countess’s disapproval, despite Evie’s assurance her mother would understand. But the rage in her hostess’s steps spoke of something more.
“Sir Archibald and Lady Margaret will see you in the library. I have informed them of the situation.”
Adel was unable to imagine her father’s distraught. “Lady Gladstone, I—”
“Do not speak. We invited you into our life, and by association you and your family were greatly elevated and this is how you repaid Evie? By stealing her fiancé?” Lady Gladstone’s voice was sharp and accusatory.
Adel’s heart skipped a beat, and then another. A deep sense of foreboding traveled through her. She glanced at Evie. Guilt darkened her eyes and tears tracked down her cheeks.
“Forgive me,” Evie mouthed.
Adel was too numb to react. She was herded to the library despite Evie’s plea to her mother that she needed to speak with Adel. The countess all but shoved her out of the chamber, and she was grateful to see the guests had gone. A minute later Adel entered the room and the countess slammed the door on her exit. Oh. It did not take long for loss and betrayal to scythe through Adel’s heart. Surely the countess would prevent further association with Evie…and what had she been thinking?
Adel paced, waiting in dread for her father to arrive and voice his displeasure. How could it have gone so wrong? The door creaked and she lifted her head. Her father and stepmother entered. Lord Gladstone strolled in behind them and gently closed the door. He gave her a reassuring smile, but Adel’s stomach dipped, and fear coated the back of her throat. She had never seen her father so livid and so embarrassed. “Papa, I can explain, I—”
“Be silent,” he roared, a bit of spittle flying from between his lips. He advanced and she retreated, her hips hitting against the oak table positioned in the center of the room. “I was in the card rooms with your mother when I was summoned. Your mother is appalled at your reckless disregard—”
“Stepmother,” Adel snapped, the agitation of being reminded of how easily he replaced her mother loosening her tongue.
He continued as if she had not spoken. “I have spent the last few minutes reassuring your fiancé this must all be a dreadful mistake, and you would never act with such wanton impropriety. Lord Vale has agreed to announce the engagement immediately. Now to stave off any further scandal the wedding will be proceeded with urgency. No time for banns to be posted and Vale is in the process of using his considerable influence to procure a special license.”
Somehow she never imagined her father’s reaction would be to foist her off even faster onto the earl. She glanced at Lady Margaret, and was met with a similar resolve in her gaze. Adel swallowed the laugh bubbling forth. She was found in the bed of a powerful duke who would certainly crush her for her temerity. The humiliation to come was enough to encourage her to flee to Derbyshire to her godmother. Why would Lord Vale still insist on marriage?
She hugged her middle, caught up in a vice of fear. As she thought on her life so far this season, Lord Vale’s constant veiled insinuations and repulsive pinches, a hot tide of rebellion stirred inside. “I have been compromised. Surely Lord Vale would not wish for a wife that is—”
Her father shook his head. “He understands that the blackguard James Atwood must have forced you to come to his room, and that young man will be dealt with. You are fortunate, Lord Vale is still willing to marry you and—”
“Young Mr. Atwood?” Lord Gladstone asked, from the mantel where he been watching the entire exchange.
Adel’s cheeks burned at the humiliation. The countess had not revealed with whom she had been caught. But why would Lord Vale pretend it had not been the duke? Of course, he was correctly thinking her parents would eagerly seek a forced match with Wolverton. Why would they settle for an earl when they could snag a duke? Lord Vale must have been hoping, they would have shepherded Adel from Pembington House and straight into his arms immediately.
Her father’s expression bloomed with ire at the interruption. He enjoyed listening to his admonishing sermons, which he had been delivering quite often ever since Adel could remember. No…since her mother died and he remarried.
“Yes,” he snapped. “Mr. Atwood has been hounding me for my daughter’s hand, and I have refused him several times, and this ploy of theirs is nothing more than their attempt to circumvent—”
“Forgive me, Sir Archibald, but your daughter was not found with young Mr. Atwood.”
She had never thought her father could be rendered speechless. He spluttered, then swung a wild-eyed gaze to her, while her stepmother affected a swoon and wilted on the chaise, sobbing.
“Your daughter was found in the bed of the Duke of Wolverton,” Lord Gladstone said with some measure of satisfaction. Why was he pleased? It was his daughter that had been set to marry the man. Why was he not as angry as his lady?
“I was not found in his bed,” she said hoarsely.
“The Duke of Wolverton?” Lady Margaret whispered, disbelief rife in her voice.
At the pronounced silence in the library, Lord Gladstone excused himself, leaving Adel alone with her father and stepmother.
Lady Margaret glanced at Adel, eyes wide with apprehension and was that a glimmer of excitement? She was no doubt envisioning the lofty circles their family could be mingling with. “My dear,” she turned to her husband, her fingers laced tightly together. “You cannot insist Lord Vale marry our daughter if she was found in the bed of a Duke. She may even be with child as we speak. We must insist the duke to do the honorable thing.”
Heat burned Adel’s face. With child? Good heavens.
“Yes, yes, of course,” her father muttered.
Adel rushed forward. “Papa, this is ridiculous. The duke is innocent in this matter and it was all a dreadful mistake on my part. I do admit I did intend to compromise Mr. Atwood, who most ardently desires to marry me despite the shortcoming of not possessing a sizable dowry or being a fashionable beauty. It would be beyond cruel to even think to make a demand of the duke, when an hour ago he had no knowledge of me. I am sure he will be expecting to marry a young lady of great fortune and impeccable breeding…and that is not me.”
Lady Margaret threw her a glance filled with incredulity. “All of society is now aware he stole your virtue.”
Adel blushed furiously, thinking of their kiss. “He did nothing of the sort!”
“You are a grave disappointment to your family,” her father said. “To act with such…with such…” He closed his eyes as if pained.
“It was ill-judged of me to concoct such a plan, but what was I to do when you refused to listen to reason, Papa? Lord Vale attacked me, left bruises on me, and you were still insisting that I wed him. I had little choice but to protect my virtue, for certainly he would have tried to steal it before we were even married,” she said, her voice roughened with unshed tears.
Lady Margaret’s lips flattened. “You are failing to understand the import of your actions. You will be forced into seclusion, and we will not be able to show our face in society because of the shame. No one will accept us.” Her lower lip trembled and tears glistened on her incredibly long eyelashes.
Papa tenderly held her hand, muttering soothing nonsense. “It shan’t come to that, I won’t allow it,” he said.
“We will have to go into exile,
” Lady Margaret said and closed her eyes. “My darlings Helena and Beatrix will never recover from this. How do we survive it? I fear after this dreadful development, only Mr. Atwood may want her and he will just not do.”
Before Adel or Papa could respond, there was a sharp perfunctory rap on the door and then it was opened. The duke strolled in, fully dressed in a dark coat and trousers, looking shockingly handsome. His shrewd gray eyes took in the scene in a sweeping glance, then settled on her. Though so coldly aloof, he was quite magnificent, her addled mind realized.
“May I present you to Sir Archibald and his wife, Lady Margaret, Your Grace. Sir Archibald and Lady Margaret, may I introduce His Grace, the Duke of Wolverton,” Lord Gladstone said, entering behind the duke.
Lady Margaret surged to her feet and dropped into an elegant deep curtsy.
“Your Grace,” her father said standing and bowing. “I have read many of your wonderful articles championing better treatment for the invalided soldiers. Very admirable and not unexpected of a man of your exceedingly eloquent stature.”
Her father was much adept at flattery. He did nothing in this instance but lay on thick praise to the duke, even going as far as to quote him on some article he had recently written for the Gentleman’s Magazine. Lady Margaret’s head bobbed with every word uttered from Papa. The duke looked on with chilling tolerance, and Adel was too weary to be embarrassed on behalf of her father and stepmother, but she was most assuredly filled with rioting nerves.
“We understand there was a slight incident earlier, and we apologize for our daughter’s behavior,” Lady Margaret said, after Papa finally took a breath.
“Entirely my fault. It seemed I occupied the wrong chamber,” the duke said dryly, with the slightest quirk of his lips.