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A Not So Respectable Gentleman?

Page 6

by Diane Gaston


  One good thing about his sudden appearance in her life was she now felt roused to battle harder against this forced marriage. She did not need him for it. All she needed was to remain single for two more years and her inheritance would be hers, free and clear. No man could use it to rule her life. No man could keep her from protecting her mother and sisters.

  Her father told her he owed Kellford a large gambling debt, one so large that their family would be ruined if he did not pay. Apparently Mariel was payment of the debt. Or rather, her fortune was. How much of that was a lie, like the lies he told her about Leo? She wanted the truth.

  Then she would know what to do.

  It was a start. A plan. And her time was better spent dwelling on how to escape this dreadful marriage than on fantasies and regrets about Leo Fitzmanning.

  They reached the arches; the supper boxes were just on the other side.

  ‘Do not remain with me,’ she demanded of Leo.

  He seized her arm before she could leave him. ‘I cannot let you go until you tell me what hold Kellford has over you.’

  This was becoming tedious. Why not tell him? Perhaps he would leave her alone if she did.

  She turned so she could look directly into his eyes. ‘Kellford threatens my family. He has the power to ruin my father, my mother, my sisters.’ She spoke the words slowly so he would not miss their importance.

  ‘Mariel—’ he began.

  ‘No more promises!’ She pulled out of his grip. ‘Do not stop me again, Leo. This time I am the one who is leaving. Right now.’

  Chapter Five

  Once again Leo watched Mariel walk away, her dark green cape billowing behind her as she hurried back to the supper boxes. Once again she’d shaken him.

  By God, he’d been thoroughly duped by her father. What an elaborate ruse the man had created, complete with a special licence, a story about Mariel’s absence and Mariel’s cryptic note. Enough to convince the bastard suitor he’d been thrown over for a man with a title. Leo had fallen for it, without a single question.

  The realisation was like a dagger in the gut.

  He deserved Mariel’s anger. He’d not believed in her. He’d run away without a fight, so ready to believe her father’s lies.

  The dagger twisted. He might have gained happiness. She would have been spared pain. If only he had not been so easily misled, so abominably weak.

  He straightened his spine. Never would he show such weakness again.

  The truth sliced into him. He was responsible for her suffering. If he had done the right thing two years ago, she would not be betrothed to Kellford now. By God, he vowed he’d fix that. Even though such amends would not bring back what he’d lost. What he’d foolishly tossed away.

  He slowly walked towards the supper box.

  What was it that Kellford held over Mariel’s family? The key was her father, Leo guessed. The bloody liar. What had Covendale done this time for which his daughter must pay?

  Leo would find out. He’d begin a search for the answer this very night. Judicious questions posed in certain gaming hells should yield answers. Few secrets were safe in gaming hells, where men made it their business to discover what others were hiding. Leo’s secret, his once-betrothal to Mariel, had, thankfully, never seen the light.

  Leo re-entered the supper box, where the masked and costumed guests continued to laugh and flirt and imbibe too much wine. He distinctly heard his sister Charlotte’s laugh above the others. Dear Charlotte. She’d certainly inherited their parents’ capacity for enjoyment.

  Keeping his distance lest his sister recognise him, Leo watched Mariel sidle through the crowd and pick up a glass of wine from a liveried servant carrying a tray. She made her way to the table of food and positioned herself in a nearby corner. Leo found a spot where he could keep her in view without being too obvious. She’d noticed him, though, tossing him one annoyed glance before pointedly ignoring him.

  Not more than two minutes passed before Kellford bustled his way to the food table and placed paper-thin slices of ham on his plate.

  Mariel marched up to him. ‘There you are!’ she snapped. ‘If you insist upon being my escort, you might at least have remained by my side.’

  Kellford nearly dropped his plate. ‘Miss Covendale.’ He made a curt bow. ‘I have been searching the Gardens for you.’

  She laughed. ‘Searching the Gardens? Do you think me such a fool that I would leave the party? No woman would leave the protection of her friends to venture into the Gardens alone.’

  ‘Are you saying you were not alone?’ Kellford put on an affable smile, but his voice rose. ‘Come now, you were not with another man, were you?’ This was jokingly said, but one look at Kellford’s eyes showed he was not amused.

  Mariel waved a hand dismissively. ‘Do stop talking nonsense. You know very well I remained here all the time. It was you who left the boxes. I saw you. If you do not wish my company, please have the courtesy to say so. Do not merely sneak away.’

  Clever girl. Leo smiled.

  She lifted her chin and walked away from Kellford, seeking out Charlotte, who was delighted to see her.

  Kellford was left scowling in her wake, but his posture conveyed uncertainty. Her ruse had been successful.

  But how many more times could she thwart him? Once married, Kellford would undoubtedly have no further need to charm her.

  Leo kept his eye on Mariel the rest of the night while she continued to portray an indignant, offended woman whenever Kellford came near her. It was a brilliant performance. From time to time she caught sight of Leo, but, at such times, the displeasure on her face was not play-acting.

  * * *

  The next morning Mariel rose early and rang for Penny to come help her dress.

  ‘Did you enjoy yourself at Vauxhall Gardens?’ the maid asked as she pinned up Mariel’s hair.

  Mariel had had a miserable time, but there was no reason to explain that to Penny. Worse, she’d spent the night tossing and turning. Whatever sleep she’d managed had been filled with dreams of walking through the Gardens with Leo. They were lovers again. They were joyous.

  Then she would wake.

  ‘The Gardens were lovely,’ she finally managed to respond.

  ‘I’d like to go there.’ Penny sighed.

  Mariel smiled at her maid’s reflection in the mirror. ‘Do you not have a beau who would take you there?’ With Penny’s beauty, she ought to have several willing to be her escort.

  Penny blushed. ‘Oh, miss! There is no one I like that way.’

  ‘Indeed?’ Mariel was surprised. ‘None of our footmen? Or the others who work near here?’

  The girl shook her head. ‘I...I cannot like their attentions. They look at me so strangely. Like a hungry cat looks at a mouse.’

  This Mariel did not doubt. ‘Well, some day perhaps you will find a man who is to your liking.’

  Penny stilled. ‘Is Lord Kellford to your liking, miss?’

  It was an impertinent question for a servant to ask, but Penny spoke with so much concern that Mariel refused to chastise her.

  ‘No,’ she responded. ‘Lord Kellford is not to my liking at all.’

  ‘He is a bad man, is he not?’ Penny went on. ‘I heard what that other man said of him.’

  Leo, she meant. They had not spoken of that day Leo walked back into Mariel’s life.

  Mariel nodded. ‘Kellford is bad, indeed.’

  ‘Who was the man who told you about Lord Kellford?’ Penny asked, obviously emboldened by Mariel’s confidences.

  But Mariel could not explain Leo to her lady’s maid. She could not explain Leo to anyone.

  ‘Someone I once knew,’ she said, as if it was of no consequence. She quickly patted her hair. ‘Are we done here? I believe I’ll wear my blue mornin
g dress if you would fetch it, please.’

  Penny curtsied and hurried over to the clothes press. They spoke no more of Leo.

  * * *

  After Mariel finished dressing she went to the dining room to see if her father was still at breakfast. The room was empty, although the sideboard was set with food. She bit her lip, hoping her father had not gone out.

  The scent of sausages and muffins made her mouth water, but she did not stop to eat. Instead she hurried to her father’s library and knocked at the door.

  ‘Who is it?’ she heard him say.

  Relieved to have found him, she walked in. ‘It is Mariel, sir.’

  ‘Ah, Mariel.’ He attempted a smile, but she knew he was not pleased to see her. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘I wish to speak with you.’ She approached his desk.

  He glanced down at his papers. ‘I have much to do.’

  ‘You may do it later.’ It was difficult for her to be civil to her father. She could not forgive the situation he had put her in. Or how his lies had ruined her chance for happiness.

  He balled his hand into a fist. ‘Do not speak to me again of not wishing to marry Kellford. You must do so and that is enough. Talk until you are hoarse. You still must marry him.’

  ‘I do not wish to argue with you.’ She attempted a mollifying tone, strolling to the bookshelves and pretending to peruse the titles. ‘I want some information.’

  He sighed. ‘What is it?’

  Why did you lie and trick Leo? she wanted to say. Why did you send him away, believing I cared nothing for him? Why would you wish to cause me such anguish?

  Worse, why had Leo so readily believed you and not me?

  Her legs trembled. She needed to confine herself to the problem at hand. It was too late to change what had happened two years ago.

  Forcing herself to remain calm, she ran her fingers over the leather bindings of the books. ‘I want you to tell me exactly why I must marry Kellford. How is it he can ruin us? What does he know?’

  Her father’s face turned an angry red. He looked down again and rattled his papers. ‘That is none of your affair. Suffice to know we will all be ruined if you do not marry him.’

  ‘But that will not suffice, Father.’ She walked back to his desk and faced him directly. ‘I want to know all. Whatever you tell me need not go beyond this room, but you must tell me the whole.’

  He lifted his chin and glared at her. ‘I need do no such thing. And I’ll brook no further impertinence from you. I am your father—’

  She held up a hand. ‘And I am your daughter, the daughter you are giving away in marriage to a monster.’

  Her father gave a dry laugh. ‘Come, come. He is not a monster. He is a charming man.’

  She leaned closer to him. ‘You know all about Lord Kellford, Father. He follows the practices of the Marquis de Sade. That makes him a monster, correct?’

  Her father turned pale and guilt shone in his eyes.

  She met his gaze and held it. ‘Tell me what this is all about. Tell me and I’ll not argue with you about this ever again.’

  He glanced away and carefully stacked his papers.

  ‘Tell me,’ she insisted.

  He squirmed. ‘I owe him money.’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘You owe everyone money.’ He’d already sold her mother’s jewellery. And hers and her sisters’, replacing them with paste. He’d sold everything they had of value and mortgaged their houses to pay his gambling debts. ‘What else is it?’

  He lifted his head and stared with vacant eyes. ‘He knows what I did.’

  Her alarm grew. ‘What did you do?’

  He swallowed. ‘I stole money from my cousin.’

  ‘From Cousin Doring?’ The wealthy Earl of Doring had paid off her father’s debts several times.

  ‘He would not give me a loan.’ Her father wiped his face. ‘I begged him. I had money lenders pressing me for payment. I was desperate.’

  Money lenders? Had he sunk that low? Low enough to steal, apparently.

  She blew out a breath. ‘How much?’

  He cleared his throat. ‘A thousand pounds.’

  ‘A thousand pounds!’ He’d gambled away a thousand pounds? On top of the debts he’d already amassed?

  ‘How does Kellford know you stole this money?’ she asked.

  He shrugged his shoulders. ‘He was the one who sent me to the money lenders. I...I’d already confided in him that Doring would not give me the funds to pay. I fear he became suspicious when I paid the whole. Next thing I knew he’d discovered my theft.’

  Her father embroiled himself with such despicable characters? Money lenders and Kellford? He was beyond foolish. A liar and a fool.

  What difference if Kellford knew of the theft? Surely Cousin Doring would not want the scandal. They could strike a bargain with him.

  She put her hands on her hips. ‘Well, it seems to me it is Kellford’s word against yours about this theft. I think we should go to Cousin Doring and confess the whole. I will write a promissory note to pay him back when I come into my inheritance.’

  ‘It will not work.’ Her father’s shoulders slumped. ‘My cousin has already told me he does not care if I go to debtor’s prison. He said he did not care if I hanged. He washed his hands of me. He said I was never to darken his door again.’

  ‘I will go to him, then.’

  He shook his head. ‘Doring told me not to send you, your mother or sisters on my behalf. He said you could not influence him any more than I could.’

  ‘But if I made a promise to pay the money back?’ she insisted.

  ‘No.’ His voice rose. ‘If you tell him what I did, he’ll have me hanged. He was that angry. You must believe me!’

  The risk was too great not to believe him. The stakes were his life and, at this moment more importantly, the well-being of her sisters and mother.

  She sighed. ‘What exactly did you do? How did you steal the money?’

  Her father drummed nervously on his desk. ‘I forged a note on Doring’s bank, giving me the money. Doring never looks that carefully at his finances. I thought he’d be none the wiser and his men of business would assume he was merely giving me money again.’ He paused. ‘Kellford has the note in his safe.’

  ‘Kellford has the banknote?’ Her skin turned cold.

  ‘I do not know how he did it, but I have seen the note in his hands. He threatens to confront Doring with it—in a public place, he says—and openly accuse me of theft.’ His expression turned bleak. ‘I will hang!’

  Worse, her mother and two younger sisters would be plummeted into scandal and poverty, and there would be nothing Mariel could do about it until she turned twenty-five. Isabel was fourteen and Augusta was sixteen, almost ready for her Season. What chances in life would they have if such a scandal were attached to their name?

  Unless Mariel married Kellford. ‘So you offered me in return for Kellford’s silence?’

  He shook his head. ‘He wanted to marry you. That was the bargain he struck with me. Marriage to you and the paper would remain in his safe for ever.’

  ‘Why would he want to marry me?’ she cried.

  Her father grimaced. ‘For your inheritance, Mariel. Why else?’

  Countless men had tried to court her, even during these last two years. Those men had been after her money, as well, but surely those men did not derive pleasure from inflicting pain and were not extortionists.

  She trembled as she glared at her father. ‘Do you know what you have done to me, Father?’

  He raised his hands. ‘I had no choice. Surely you can see that.’

  She leaned towards him again and deliberately lowered her voice. Otherwise she might have screamed at him. ‘You chose to gamble, Father. You chose to amass d
ebts you could not pay. You resorted to theft and put your family in jeopardy like this. How could you do this?’

  He’d ruined her life. If only he’d not interfered two years ago. If only he had not lied.

  If only...

  * * *

  Leo padded in bare feet from his bedchamber, yawning as he entered the drawing room, then stepped back into the hallway.

  ‘Walker!’ he called. ‘Are you here?’

  ‘Mwa?’ Walker staggered out of his room, still in the clothes he wore the previous day and with the ashen look of a man who’d bitten the jug. Two jugs, perhaps.

  Leo peered at him. ‘Where were you last night?’

  Walker winced. ‘Do not shout.’

  ‘I’m not shouting.’ Leo entered the kitchen. ‘Do we have anything to eat?’

  ‘Do not speak to me of food.’ Walker pressed his hands against his head.

  Leo emerged from the kitchen, munching on a piece of bread. ‘I discovered something last night. Covendale is deep in debt. Gambles.’ He took another bite of bread. ‘I could not discover if he owes Kellford, though.’

  ‘Stop chewing so loud,’ Walker mumbled. ‘Don’t know about that. Kellford’s in deep with money lenders, though.’

  ‘What?’ Leo was taken aback. ‘How did you learn that?’

  Walker slumped into a chair. ‘Drinking. Followed his valet to a tavern. Got him talking.’

  ‘Excellent.’ This was why he valued Walker. ‘What did you learn?’

  Walker pressed his head again. ‘The valet is unhappy. Hates Kellford. Gossips like a woman. I’ve discovered what you need to know, I believe. Even have a solution.’ He grinned up at Leo. ‘How would you like to again become a thief?’

  * * *

  Lord Kellford stood in the office of Mr Carter of Messrs Carter and Company, No. 14 Old Cavendish Street.

  ‘Payment is overdue, Lord Kellford,’ Mr Carter intoned.

  It was a humiliation to be spoken to in such a tone. And to be required to beg. ‘A month’s time is all I ask.’ Kellford favoured Carter with his most charming smile.

  ‘A month is a long time.’ Carter looked at him over spectacles worn low on his nose. The money lender dressed like any cit, in plain coat and trousers, devoid of the tailoring that would have marked him a gentleman. It was unconscionable that he held Kellford under his thumb, like an insect about to be squashed.

 

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