A Marriage of Notoriety

by Diane Gaston

  A determined gleam appeared in her eyes. ‘I know what I want, Xavier.’

  ‘No, Daphne. Your happiness is not with me.’

  Ned and Hugh walked in and Xavier left Daphne without another word.

  ‘What now, gentlemen?’ He braced for more insults to their sister.

  Ned’s expression was conciliatory. ‘We simply came to see how the place is faring.’

  ‘I have not managed to burn the place down yet,’ Xavier answered. ‘Do you want to see the books?’

  ‘It seems a good place to start,’ Ned replied agreeably.

  They had started back for the door when Hugh leaned over to Xavier. ‘Who is that beautiful creature?’

  Xavier did not need to look to know of whom Hugh was speaking. ‘Lady Faville. She’s taken a fancy to gambling.’

  ‘Lady Faville,’ Hugh repeated quietly. ‘I’ve never seen her before.’

  Xavier took them to MacEvoy, where they glanced through the ledgers. Did they notice the rise in profits while their sister was here? Afterwards, they retired to the supper room.

  When they walked past the pianoforte, Xavier glanced at Phillipa’s music.

  Should he send her music home with Ned and Hugh? In truth, it was too precious to trust them with it. They did not even seem to notice the pianoforte that had been so important to their sister.

  He led them to a table and ordered brandy.

  ‘All looks well here,’ Ned remarked.

  ‘Rhys did not tell us he would be away. You cannot blame us for worrying,’ Hugh added. ‘Our family fortune is at stake.’

  ‘I do not blame you for seeing to your investment.’ Xavier blamed them for their treatment of their sister.

  The brandy was served.

  Ned took a sip and nodded approvingly. ‘Sorry about this business with our sister.’

  Hugh peered at him with narrowed eyes. ‘You had better be telling the truth. If I discover you trifled with her—’

  Xavier gave the younger Westleigh a severe look. ‘You’ll do what, Hugh? Make me marry her? Bloody my face? I would relish the opportunity for you to try.’

  ‘Do not tempt me,’ Hugh countered.

  Xavier went on as if Hugh had not spoken. ‘Or will you merely insult your sister several more times? I ought to call you out for the things you said about her.’

  Hugh looked genuinely surprised. ‘What did I say?’

  ‘That she was not one of the pretty ones. That her singing was common.’

  ‘Xavier is correct,’ Ned said. ‘That was not well done of you.’

  Xavier turned to him. ‘And you accused her of loose morals. Tell me why she deserves such talk from her brothers?’

  Ned looked chastened; Hugh, about to lose his temper again.

  Until Daphne walked in and sat with Mr Everard. Hugh’s gaze riveted on her, as well as the gazes of several other men in the room.

  ‘When does Rhys come back?’ Ned asked, changing the subject.

  Xavier tasted his brandy. ‘I do not know. Soon, I expect.’

  Hugh dragged his attention back. ‘Ned merely wishes to know when he will be able to get married.’ He laughed. ‘I have a capital idea. The three of you can be married together. Three at once.’

  ‘No.’ Phillipa would despise such a thing, even if she did agree to marry him. ‘And nothing is decided.’

  Ned leaned forwards. ‘I think Phillipa had the right of it. There is no reason for you to marry her. If no one knows about her—her activities here—we can all go on as before.’

  Xavier took another drink. ‘It must be as Phillipa wishes.’

  * * *

  The next morning at breakfast, without her brothers present, Phillipa tried to reason with her mother.

  ‘Please, Mama. Surely you see the sense in this. If we say and do nothing, all will go on as before. If I marry Xavier, then there will be talk.’ She shuddered at the thought. ‘A man of his appearance marrying a disfigured woman like me? No one would talk of anything else.’

  ‘That sort of gossip is of no consequence.’ Her mother was almost cheerful this morning.

  Phillipa’s voice rose. ‘It would be wrong to force Xavier to marry me.’

  Her mother made a gesture for her to speak more quietly. She inclined her head towards the servants’ door.

  ‘Do not be ridiculous, Mama.’ Phillipa leaned back in her chair. ‘The servants know. Or will do so soon.’

  ‘Only when I am ready for them to know,’ her mother said.

  Phillipa lowered her voice. ‘Why would you insist upon my marrying Xavier when I do not wish to?’

  Her mother continued to eat her food, talking between bites. ‘Because it secures your future, Phillipa dear. You have been hiding in your music room. That is no way to achieve a proposal of marriage. This is a godsend.’

  ‘Mama!’

  Her mother’s expression turned stern. ‘You have been apprised of the state of our family’s finances, Phillipa. Much as I have tried to shield you from this distress, you may as well know that you have no dowry. Any money meant for you is gone.’

  She had not known that part of it. Had even her dowry been squandered by her father?

  Her mother went on. ‘I have very little money left, as well. There is nothing to leave you when I am gone. You are a burden to this family now, and if you do not marry you will for ever be a burden.’

  A burden. What cruel words.

  ‘But if you marry Campion—’ her mother smiled ‘—you will have a household of your own. Pin money of your own.’

  ‘I am to marry for money?’ Phillipa scoffed.

  Her mother waved away her words as if they were an annoying fly. ‘There are worse reasons to marry. And you know you are marrying a good man. We have known his family since before you were born. No one ever gossips about them—’ She glanced away. ‘Well, there was the one time, but that problem was quickly dispatched—’

  What on earth did she mean?

  Her mother smiled again. ‘The Campions have a respectable fortune, and it is said that Xavier has his own money. From an uncle or aunt or somebody.’

  ‘So I am to marry for money,’ Phillipa muttered.

  Her mother pursed her lips. ‘My dear daughter, he is the perfect husband. He is rich. He comes from a decent family and he has been brought up to be an honourable man. He will treat you well.’ She pinned her with her gaze. ‘Need I go on?’

  ‘But he is also a friend.’ Phillipa felt as if her insides were in shreds. ‘A friend you would have me treat quite shabbily. He has been kind to me, but he cannot regard me as a wife.’

  Xavier was the sort of man who would offer, though. For honour’s sake. He should not be punished so for what had been her instigation.

  ‘Do not turn romantic on me, Phillipa,’ her mother scolded. ‘It will be a good marriage for you. You will see.’

  ‘But what about him?’ Phillipa cried. ‘What about Xavier? You cannot saddle such a man with me. A—a man of his looks and his character. He does not deserve it.’

  Her mother smiled. ‘Then he should not have been running around with you in the middle of the night.’

  It was no use to argue with her.

  ‘I will not do it, Mama,’ she whispered. ‘I will not marry him.’

  Her mother glared at her. ‘You will marry him or I will make certain you regret it.’

  It mattered not what revenge her mother intended. ‘I will not marry him.’

  She loved him too much.

  * * *

  Xavier presented himself at the Westleigh town house at the appointed time. The solemn-faced butler announced him to the family.

  When he entered the drawing room, his eyes immediately found Phillipa. Her features were pinc
hed and her posture taut, as if wanting to flee.

  Lady Westleigh had enthroned herself in an armchair. Ned and Hugh stood at her side, like pages.

  Xavier bowed to Lady Westleigh, but quickly straightened. ‘I will see Phillipa alone.’

  Lady Westleigh met his eye. ‘I think not.’

  He’d not yield the power to her. He gave her a look his soldiers once knew—he’d brook no argument. ‘I will see Phillipa alone.’

  He’d wrestled with the matter overnight, getting no sleep at all.

  In honesty, he wanted to marry Phillipa—if for no other reason than to keep her away from this family. But also to find a way to give her joy.

  In that, his motives were unchanged from their days in Brighton.

  Except he also wanted her as a man wants a woman.

  Lady Westleigh huffed. ‘There is nothing for you to discuss together, because you will marry her.’

  Phillipa leaned towards him. ‘Do not heed her, Xavier.’

  ‘Phillipa,’ her mother warned.

  Xavier’s hands curled into fists.

  ‘Now, Mother.’ Ned’s tone was quelling. ‘Let them talk together—’

  ‘Be quiet, Ned,’ Lady Westleigh snapped.

  A knock at the door silenced them all. The butler appeared again. ‘General Henson, my lady.’

  ‘Alistair!’ The lady brightened. ‘Do show him in.’

  General Henson stepped into the room, but stopped as if he’d not expected to see them all gathered there. ‘My dear lady. Forgive me. I interrupt you.’ He noticed Xavier with even more surprise and nodded. ‘Campion. Good to see you.’

  ‘General.’ Xavier said. Who else would show up? Lord Westleigh?

  The general bowed to Phillipa. ‘Lady Phillipa.’

  She merely nodded.

  Ned and Hugh exchanged puzzled glances.

  Lady Westleigh simpered. ‘Alistair, you have walked in on a—a family meeting, but do come forwards. I would be delighted to introduce you to my sons.’

  The introductions were made as if this were the most ordinary of social occasions. The general acknowledged an acquaintance with Hugh from when both were in the Peninsula and the two of them spoke of mutual acquaintances.

  Ned glanced at his mother, brows raised.

  She gave him a patient smile. ‘Ned, dear, General Henson and I are very old friends. We happened to meet again in town and he has been good enough to act as my escort on occasion.’

  And as her lover, Xavier thought, but Ned and Hugh would work that out soon enough. Their mother’s intimate manner towards Henson spoke volumes.

  ‘I am very happy to be reacquainted with you all. My gracious, you were mere boys when last I saw you.’ The general gazed from one to the other. ‘But I will interrupt you no further. I take my leave.’ He walked up to Lady Westleigh and clasped her hands. ‘I shall return, my dear.’

  He left and the room fell silent.

  Hugh finally spoke. ‘Mother! What the devil?’

  Lady Westleigh lifted her head regally. ‘I do not approve of such language, Hugh. My friendship with the general is my affair. Not yours.’

  Hugh laughed scornfully. ‘Affair. Interesting choice of words, Mother.’

  ‘What of my friendship with Xavier?’ Phillipa broke in. ‘Is that not my affair, Mama?’

  The lady responded with sarcasm. ‘Affair. Interesting choice of words, Phillipa.’

  Phillipa’s face turned red.

  ‘Enough!’ Xavier shouted. He turned to Phillipa. ‘Where can we talk?’

  ‘Here, if they will leave,’ she responded.

  Lady Westleigh hesitated a moment before she stood. ‘Oh, very well. Ned. Hugh.’ She spoke to them as if they were in leading strings. ‘Come with me.’

  * * *

  Phillipa’s mother and brothers closed the drawing-room door behind them and she was alone with Xavier.

  He looked even more handsome in the light of day, as tall as her brothers, but perfectly formed and in a coat that fit him like a second skin. He’d stood tall when facing her mother, and now, gazing at her, he seemed perfectly in control.

  ‘Do you wish to sit?’ He gestured to the sofa.

  She shook her head.

  He waited, giving her time to speak first.

  She took a breath. ‘This is all nonsense, Xavier. My mother does not believe you truly compromised me. She sees this as a grand opportunity for me to snare a husband and secure my future.’

  ‘I surmised that.’ He looked directly into her face.

  She wished he would glance away. ‘We must stand up to her. If we do, this will all pass and things will be as they were.’

  His intense blue eyes bored into her. ‘Is that what you want? For things to be as they were for you?’

  She lowered her gaze, fearing he would see all the way to the grief she felt at losing the Masquerade Club and the nightly time they shared. ‘I always knew it was a temporary adventure.’

  He lifted her chin with his finger and she was forced to look at him again.

  ‘What if we did marry, Phillipa?’ He spoke sotto voce. ‘What if things do not have to return to what they were? I am willing if you are.’

  How dare he use a voice so deep and soothing, like the rumble of the lowest pianoforte keys? How dare he say he was willing to marry? Such words were daggers disguised as jewels.

  She turned her head from his touch. ‘Do not toy with me, Xavier.’

  ‘I am not toying with you. I want this, if you do.’

  Now he was merely being honourable.

  She touched her scar and moved near the window where she knew it would show in stark relief.

  ‘No!’ She lifted her hand. ‘You cannot want it.’

  Adonis with a scar-faced wife? How he would be pitied. How soon before he would pity himself?

  His face was no less impossibly handsome even as he frowned. ‘What if I told you I did want to marry you?’

  She touched her scar. ‘I would not believe you.’

  ‘Why do you not believe me?’ he asked.

  ‘Why?’ It hurt more that he pretended to want her. ‘Because everything I’ve done has forced you into involving yourself with me. Whether it was dancing with me or escorting me or letting me perform. None of it has been by your choice—’

  ‘Dancing?’ He looked puzzled.

  Of course, he would not remember the dance. It loomed large only in her memory.

  She felt tears sting her eyes. She blinked them away. ‘I will not marry you, Xavier. I refuse.’ She gathered all her courage and met his eye. ‘I do not want to marry you. That is the end of it. There is no more to be said.’

  She could not stay a moment longer without bursting into tears. She forced herself to stand straight and to stride with a purposeful gait towards the door.

  ‘Phillipa?’ She heard his voice behind her, but she opened the door.

  Her mother and brothers waited in the hallway outside the room. She walked past them.

  ‘Where are you going?’ her mother cried. ‘We are not finished.’

  ‘I am finished.’ She did not stop.

  Hugh dashed after her and seized her arm, a look of concern on his face. ‘What happened in there, Phillipa?’

  She shrugged out of his grasp. ‘Xavier made an offer of marriage and I refused him. That is all.’

  She reached the staircase and started to climb.

  Her mother came after her, calling to her from the foot of the stairs. ‘Come back here, Phillipa! If you leave it this way you will regret it. I will make you rue the day you threw away such an opportunity. You will have nothing without it! Do you hear me? Nothing!’

  Phillipa did not answer her mother. She did not slow her pace.
She did not turn back to see if Xavier also watched her walk away.

  She merely climbed the stairs and retreated to her music room even though she was empty of music.

  * * *

  Xavier watched her walk past her family and climb the stairs. He watched until she disappeared on the upper floor.

  He felt as if he’d been run through with a sabre.

  He’d been prepared for her refusal; he’d not been prepared for the pain of it.

  Although he ought to have known.

  He’d been attracted to her, especially from the moment he’d witnessed her perform. She’d no longer been the little girl to whom he felt a responsibility; she’d turned into a woman who captivated him.

  And his interest had never been returned.

  Would people not laugh to know that he, to whom it was reputed that women flocked, could not get the one woman he wanted?

  She thought him a friend and nothing more.

  Hugh strode over to him. ‘What the devil did you say to her?’

  Xavier would not allow that hothead to see his wound. ‘I offered marriage and she refused. She made her desires very clear. It is time to drop this.’

  Ned spoke up. ‘I agree. The best thing to do is forget this happened.’

  Hugh scoffed. ‘She’s daft.’

  ‘She is foolish and ungrateful.’ Lady Westleigh pursed her lips before turning to Xavier. ‘It is my turn to speak with you alone, sir.’

  ‘Don’t rail at him, Mother,’ Ned said. ‘He’s done the right thing.’

  His mother glared at him.

  Ned seemed not to heed her. ‘I beg your leave. I am off to call upon Miss Gale, who does not even know I have returned. I tell you we are done with this. Time to move on to other matters.’ He extended his hand Xavier. ‘This was a bad business, but we will put it behind us and act as before.’

  ‘Certainly.’ Xavier shook his hand. He’d never look at Ned in the same way, however.

  ‘Go, if you must,’ his mother snapped at Ned. ‘Xavier, come in here.’

  Xavier returned with her to the drawing room. She sat in her chair and gestured for him to sit, as well.

  ‘I’ll stand, ma’am.’ His parents taught him well how to remain respectful, but he’d stand his ground all the same.