A Scandal In the Making

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  Cassandra sighed and shook her head. "He isn't and he doesn't. Ours is a business arrangement. And thus far, I have let him down with my part of the bargain." This was a completely inappropriate conversation and she had no idea why she was even saying these things, especially to a man she hardly knew. Then again, speaking to a near stranger was somehow easier than speaking to Evan at the moment. "He wants his freedom when our deal is concluded," she admitted softly. "And I shall give it to him."

  "Whether you wish it or not." Again, this was not a question.

  "What I desire matters little. I have agreed to his terms and that is that. I shall not break my word and be thought worse of than I already am. There are already those who do not think me worthy of my husband or believe that he will be unfaithful to me at the first opportunity. Some do not even think me of Reynolds blood and therefore unworthy of anyone in Society. I have ears, after all. I have heard the rumors."

  The duke shrugged carelessly. "Deals are made to be broken when both parties no longer agree to the initial terms. It's done all the time. Be honest with the man. If you care for him in the least, he needs to know the truth so that he might make an informed decision. Withholding that sort of thing can only lead to trouble and confusion. Not to mention a broken heart, or worse, a broken life." He eyed her askance. "And as for the gossips? I find that they are wrong more often than they are right these days. Pay them as little heed as possible."

  "Words still hurt."

  The duke nodded in agreement, strangely quiet. "They do. Sometimes more so than even the sharpest sword. But in the end, they are just words. They only have power over you if you allow them to have it. It is actions that are the most telling. Do not allow your actions to be governed by the words of people not fit to wipe your slippers."

  Cassandra sighed and looked off into the distance before turning back to meet the duke's rather direct gaze. "Easier said than done, your grace. Especially when one is confused themselves. It is difficult not to be influenced by others, especially when you yourself believe, just a bit, that they are correct and that you are not worthy of what you have been given. That one's life is all a masquerade that will end when the clock strikes midnight."

  Candlewood's eyes took on a faraway look. "Lady Berkshire, I will offer you this one last piece of advice. Those gossips you speak of, those Society dragons who would rip you to shreds? Beneath their fine clothes and pale skin, their blood is as red as yours. It is not blue, nor do they possess anything that makes their flesh better than yours. They bleed as you do. There is no difference. Take it from one who has seen more blood spilled in his lifetime than anyone ought. If you want your husband beyond the time it takes to fulfill your contract, then fight for him. In the end?" He shrugged. "You may still lose him. No outcome is guaranteed and not every heart's desire is met. However, if he does return to a mistress, it will not be for lack of trying on your part and that makes any outcome easier to live with. Take what you want if you can get it. Leave the rest to fate. Though nudge fate in the direction you desire if you can. It never hurts to increase your odds of success if at all possible."

  With that, the duke silently tugged her forward and all but dragged her through the door, which led them into a small, curtained alcove at the far edge of the ballroom. Cassandra followed him wordlessly and when he offered her a short, silent bow, she dipped a small curtsey in return before he departed back through the door they had just emerged from. As a newly married woman, it would not do for her to be seen the company of the Bloody Duke, especially when rumors of his supposed infidelities still abounded.

  However, if nothing else, Cassandra knew that the man before her was faithful to his wife, Eliza. Of that there was no doubt. True, he had once been the illicit lover of her Aunt Ellie, but that was only once, when he was likely foxed or some such and believed that Ellie was still unwed. Even now, she did not know the full details of the situation, though she did know that there was a great deal more to the story than anyone realized.

  The duke had loved Ellie Reynolds with a passion, but that was all it had been - passion - and true to her fickle nature, Cassandra's aunt had used the duke's desire for her own ends. She had tricked him, gotten with child by him and then attempted to use that child to blackmail the duke, forgetting that she had a husband who was just as devious as she.

  Having lived in the Berkshire household during large parts of that scandal, Cassandra had come to understand one thing very clearly. The Bloody Duke of Candlewood was a man of honor and worthy of anyone's trust. Therefore, if he had pledged his heart to his wife, then he was faithful to her and her alone. Which made his point to Cassandra about the gossips often being wrong all the more valid.

  Still mulling over his words, Cassandra emerged from behind the curtain only to find herself staring at a very familiar back - a back she had seen naked that very afternoon.

  "Cassie!" Evan spun around as if he could sense her approach before he saw her. "I have been looking everywhere for you. Are you well?" There was something in his eyes just then - perhaps it was fear or perhaps it was worry or perhaps it was something else - but whatever the emotion was, it brought to mind the duke's words once more. Perhaps, just perhaps, Evan did care for her as more than a friend and business partner of sorts. She was not so foolish as to think what he felt for her was love, for that was very dangerous indeed. But maybe a glimmer of affection? She wished to believe that maybe that was indeed the case.

  "I felt a bit ill," she admitted quietly. "So I went in search of the retiring room." She gestured to the curtain she had emerged from behind. "I became lost and had to follow the sound of the ballroom back here. Lord Raynecourt's town home is something of a maze."

  Evan reached out and squeezed her hand hard, surprising her. "It is not a place to wander off alone, no. But at least you have returned." He studied her. "You also do not seem as pale as you did earlier."

  Once more, Cassandra recalled the duke's words - be honest. "I was not feeling well when we arrived," she confessed softly. "In fact, I had myself rather worried and in something of a state, I fear."

  "Over what?" Evan's brow wrinkled in confusion.

  "Until recently, I was your ward. Now, I am your wife. Though I have not seen the papers as of late, I know that people are gossiping about us."

  Evan shrugged, his face unreadable. "Then let them. We know the truth, Cassie. This is our life. Not theirs. They need not be privy to our agreement or what is between us. Let them believe what they like. You have never cared a whit for gossip before. There is no reason to start now."

  Except that there was a reason, though she did not say that. For deep in her heart, Cassandra still believed that those gossips spoke the truth. After all, it was part of her agreement with Evan that, in time, he would leave her. The papers weren't wrong about that - just the reasons why.

  Still, that time was not now. For the foreseeable future, Evan was hers - in her life and in her bed. Therefore, she needed to start stacking the odds in her favor as much as possible, just as the duke had suggested.

  "You are right, as usual, dragon."

  "Say that again," he teased, a warm grin lighting up his features. "For the last year, I have not heard you say that often enough."

  This time when she smiled, Cassandra felt the emotion deep inside of herself, her fears from earlier fading away slowly. "Very well. You were right, Evan." She cocked her head to the side. "Now dance with me."

  "Demanding. I like that in a woman."

  "I know."

  And with that, Evan offered Cassandra his arm and swept her out onto the dance floor.

  Cassandra was behaving oddly. She had been for the last several days. Evan was worried about her, though he did not know how to voice those fears without sounding like a lovesick fool - which he most certainly was not. Still, as he swept his wife into his arms, Evan breathed a silent sigh of relief that, at the moment anyway, she seemed well enough.

  He had his suspicions about what had caused her
abrupt change in nature, though he did not dare speak of those fears either. What if he was wrong? He did not wish for her to feel undo pressure regarding their agreement. Worse, what if he was right? What if she had been with child and then lost the babe? Would bringing up the topic make her feel worse? He had no idea.

  Dealing with a wife was far outside of his realm of knowledge. He had lived a hedonistic, libertine life as a baron, giving little thought to any emotion or feeling beyond that of his own pleasure. It wasn't that he didn't care. It was simply that he didn't have to care. So therefore, he never did.

  Now? He had a wife that he truly did not know, despite their fortnight of courtship and bedsport in the country. That needed to change. He had hoped the situation would change at Brambly Fields - and it had to a degree. However, they had ended up spending a great deal of time in bed, learning each other's bodies. But not learning each other's hearts.

  Oh, Evan didn't want to know his wife's heart, precisely, but he did want to know Cassandra well enough to be able to read her moods and, as of yet, he still could not. If he could, then he might not be so mystified as to the reasons for her odd behavior.

  "If something is amiss, you would confide in me, would you not?" he asked as he settled into the dance, barely hearing the music that swelled around him. "I mean it, Cassie. Do not hide from me."

  She bit her lip and immediately, he knew she would not tell him the truth this night. Or at least not the entire truth. Perhaps he did know her better than he thought after all.

  "I knew that my motives for marrying you would be questioned the moment we returned to Society," she confessed, "though I did not think the other women would be so brutal in their assessment of me. Until tonight, I assumed that most people liked me."

  "Who has insulted you?" Evan demanded, not truly feeling Cassandra's body in his arms. They were merely moving through the steps of the dance at the moment. He was too angry to do otherwise. "I shall call them out."

  Cassandra squeezed his hand. "No one has insulted me directly, dragon. No one would dare. However, I have heard the whispers. Having just been ill, I am already unsteady on my feet. I could not find Abby earlier and the whispers I heard as I moved through the crowd? They...unsettled me. However, after some rest in the retiring room, I began to feel more myself. I am stronger than they are. I can manage this well enough. I simply needed to remember that."

  She did not look as if she truly believed that, but Evan allowed the comment to pass unremarked upon. She was still not telling him the entire truth, but then, he could not really blame her. Theirs had been an uneasy friendship at best, and considering how often they had argued over the Gray Ladies, she had little reason to trust him, even though they were now husband and wife.

  "If you are certain..." He trailed off, not willing to press her further at the moment.

  "I am." She looked up at him and nodded, yet he could still see something hidden within her eyes. He did not like that.

  "Very well," he acquiesced as he looked around the ballroom, suddenly feeling as if the walls were closing in on him as well.

  He could see thinly veiled glances in their direction, noticed eyes following them as they danced, making him distinctly uncomfortable. Was this how Cassandra had felt earlier? As if everyone was watching her? If so, it was no wonder she had left the ball to seek refuge in the retiring room.

  Abruptly, Evan stopped dancing, grabbed Cassandra's hand and began leading her off the dance floor, well aware that whispers had immediately begun to follow him as they departed. "Let us go home, pet," he leaned down and whispered in her ear. "I believe I have had enough of this ball. You?"

  "Indeed. I thought you would never ask." She gripped his hand tighter, giving away a hint of the fear lurking within her. "Let us go home and go to bed."

  "A most excellent idea," he replied, doing his best to ignore the pang in his heart at her words. For it was not his plan to care for his wife, no matter how she made him feel. Not the plan at all.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Town Tattler

  It has been a little over a week since the new Lord and Lady Berkshire returned to London in a flurry of carriages and trunks, recently wed and likely with the marchioness looking with an eye towards procreation. It makes a great deal of sense, really, since it is my understanding that their arrangement is more one of a business nature than a love match. Anyone who has seen the two of them argue over the last year would likely agree on that score.

  However, I am also told that a complication in the form of one Mr. Matthew Taylor, a vicar's son from Lady Berkshire's home of Little Bromley, has arrived in town with his eye turned directly towards the new marchioness. There is some debate as to whether or not he is currently in a matrimonial state himself, but what cannot be debated is that he and Lady B shared a closeness in the past that many in her village thought would lead to the altar. Could the niece be following in the aunt's footsteps so soon and considering an affair with a man from her past? One would hope not, but then the heart is a fickle thing.

  In other news, there have been reports about our American marquess now setting his cap for the rather young Lady Miriam Bexley, sister to the Earl of Raynecourt. Where such foolishness comes from I cannot say, for I witnessed the young lady in question waltzing - waltzing of all things! - with the much older Earl of Blackthorne just last evening. Together once again, those two, so perhaps there is something between them yet, even though I am still certain they would not suit. After all, it is rumored that the man is in dire financial straights and everyone knows it will take a fair bit of coin to win the heart of a creature like Miri Bexley. More on that as it develops.

  -Lady A

  Evan was sitting in his study with Franklin, going over contracts when Holcroft interrupted them, bearing a simple card on a silver salver. "A visitor, my lord." The servant stood up straight and with a touch of indignation as he presented Evan with the card. "Actually, he called for Lady Berkshire, but I did not think it appropriate, even though she is currently out at the dressmaker's shop with Lady Hathaway. Not that I told the man as such."

  Raising an eyebrow at his servant's cheekiness, Evan took the card and looked at it for a long moment before tossing it on his desk. It was not lost on him that it landed next to the contract that would transfer ownership of the Gray Ladies to Cassandra that he and Franklin had just been working on again. Since the organization was unentailed, it was an easy transaction to make, and yet, the contract had been on his desk for four days - ever since the morning after the Raynecourt ball. As of yet, he had been unable to present the document to her, though he could not say why.

  Perhaps because she was still keeping secrets from him? Then again, he did not know for certain that she was, only that he suspected.

  "Show him to the white drawing room, please, Holcroft. I shall be there momentarily." Evan drummed his fingers on his desk as he issued the order. Once the butler had departed, he looked up to see Franklin watching him through his spectacles, the solicitor's eyes looking far too owlish and wise for Evan's liking.

  "Is there a problem, my lord?" From the sour look on his face, Franklin already knew the answer before he even asked the question.

  Evan cleared his throat. "Mr. Matthew Taylor is in town. Without his wife." He drummed his fingers on his desk again. "This is not good news, as Mr. Greer informed me just yesterday that Mr. Taylor has been granted a divorce by Parliament. Something about the child Mrs. Taylor bore not belonging to her husband and that it was evident from a mere look at the babe."

  "Is there something in the water in Little Bromley?" Franklin asked, incredulous. "How many is that now, including the previous marchioness?"

  "Too many for my liking," Evan snapped gruffly. "And I'll not have my wife be the next in a long line of unfaithful women to hail from that despicable place."

  "Even if you yourself plan to be unfaithful to your vows as soon as possible?" Franklin had never quite approved of Evan's plan to take up with his mistresses
again after Cassandra bore children. He pointed to a letter on the edge of Evan's desk that had been delivered just that morning. It was from Mrs. Logan, another one of Evan's old mistresses. "You know that offer is just the first of many to come from your previous paramours, do you not? It is well known that you are not in love with your wife, or if not known for certain, then widely suspected." The man blinked a few times as if choosing his next words carefully. "Also, you now have access to the whole of the Berkshire coffers. I would think you, of all people, would be well aware of how attractive that can make you to a certain sort of lady."

  Crumpling up the missive, Evan tossed it in the small can beside his desk that he kept for trash disposal. "I do. And we are far from that point in our marriage, as you well know. Cassandra has yet to become with child." Except he still wasn't altogether certain of that.

  "And if she cannot provide you an heir?" The other day, Evan had let it slip to the man that he suspected Cassandra had been with child for a few days and then lost the babe when her courses came. That had prompted Franklin to ask what Evan would do if children never came. The female body was still a puzzling thing, even to the best physicians London had to offer, and it was indeed possible that the child Cassandra had lost was simply the first of many. Or that she might never carry a child to term at all.

  "Again, we are not there yet," Evan snapped as he rose, not wishing to contemplate that possibility just yet. "I shall deal with that eventuality if and when it occurs. Until then, I want this man out of my house and out of my wife's life."