Something inside Cal snapped. Anger like which he hadn’t felt in years pumped through him. He jabbed a finger against Geoffrey’s chest, forcing him back a step. ‘Unhand my wife.’
Chapter Thirteen
His what now? Ellen swallowed the wrong way and started choking. His wife?
Calum clapped her on the back and glared daggers at Geoffrey. ‘Get out and don’t come back.’
Her brother’s mouth had dropped open. He looked like a stunned fish. He looked how Ellen felt. Out of water, out of depth. He blinked, glanced once more around the room, then turned on his heel and hurried from the house.
‘What just happened?’ Lady Faye pressed a hand to her throat.
My idiot brother happened, Ellen wanted to answer but it was like her voice was suppressed under the weight of all the panic and anger and guilt. Her legs were like bricks. She was tethered to the spot. Her very own statue.
Calum gripped the table edge with both hands, his knuckles turning white, his head bowed.
What should she do? What could she do? Comfort Lady Faye? Explain herself to Calum? Beg for their help? Cry for Gwen? Scream over Geoffrey?
Weeks of hard work trying to be the perfect lady’s companion snatched away in just a few moments. No number of rules could ever have been enough to keep her old life at bay. ‘Calum…’ His name was heavy on her tongue.
His wife!
What could she possibly say to him? How could she possibly start to apologise?’
Lady Faye blinked, coming back to life like a clock whose mechanisms had been wound back up. She dived at Ellen, grabbed both her hands and pressed them to her ample bosom. ‘You poor, poor gel. How could you possibly be related to such a horrible man? He’s absolutely despicable.’
‘Despicable,’ Calum muttered under his breath, still unmoving. He could have been carved from marble. ‘That’s one word to describe what just happened here.’
‘Geoffrey shouldn’t have pushed his way into your home like that. I’ll begin packing immediately and be out the door within the hour.’
‘Pack?’ Lady Faye pulled her closer, forcing Ellen to stoop a little. ‘Surely you’re safest with us.’
‘I don’t know.’ Ellen’s heart lurched. Why wasn’t Lady Faye demanding she leave? It could only be a matter of time before she did. ‘I don’t know how he found me so fast.’ Verity would never have revealed her location, and it was clear Geoffrey was yet to find Gwen and Maggie. Maybe the coachman…?
‘Who’s Gwen? That child he was searching for?’
Ellen jumped at the sound of Calum’s voice. It was a low rumble in his chest as though he still didn’t quite trust himself to speak without shouting. And he still wasn’t meeting her gaze. Was he ashamed of her? It was impossible to tell what he was thinking.
And her heart was breaking.
‘Is she your sister?’ Lady F was gentle but persistent.
‘She’s only six,’ confirmed Ellen. ‘Practically still a baby. I’ve hidden her away in the country.’
‘Why did you never mention her to me before now?’ Calum sounded calmer than she’d ever thought he could be. Where was his temper? Oh, what she wouldn’t give to see his temper right now.
‘None of that matters right this moment, Cal.’ The smile lines around the old woman’s mouth were all turned down. ‘We need to be thinking of a plan. We need to prepare for when he returns.’
‘Calum’s right.’ Ellen pulled her hands free of the dowager’s grip. She let out a swoosh of air, straightening her shoulders. ‘I shouldn’t have lied. But I did what I thought was the right thing for Gwen. I couldn’t leave her under Geoffrey’s roof for a moment longer. He’s…not a nice person. Not anymore.’
She looked between them—her employer who’d become her friend and the duke who sent her heart pounding and her toes curling. ‘I’m sorry,’ she finally said. It was all she could say, but it would never be enough. She’d brought Geoffrey to their doorstep and he’d come crashing into their lives like a team of carriage horses. She, more than most, knew how important solitude and anonymity was to Calum. She moved towards the kitchen door. A hard ball settled in the pit of her stomach. But she ignored it. She ignored everything but her determination.
Her determination to keep Gwen safe.
Her determination to retain her freedom from Geoffrey.
And her determination to bring no more shame or hurt or anger into Calum’s house. Because he deserved none of it.
‘But what happens when Geoffrey realises we lied about the two of you being wed?’ Lady Faye clutched Calum’s arm.
‘I don’t know. If I leave now, maybe nothing.’ Ellen sighed. ‘My brother is a gambler, but he’s smart and resourceful, and now it looks like he has some money, so the sooner I leave, the better.’ And the sooner she left before Lady Faye realised her continued employ was untenable, the better.
The need to reach out to Calum was a physical pain. With what felt like a Herculean effort, she clamped her hands behind her back and took a step away.
‘Calum McKenna Callaghan, I demand you do something. Stop her! Marry her!’ The dowager actually stamped her foot. ‘It isn’t fair. Ellen cannot leave us. We cannot let her brother bully us around.’ Her voice sputtered into silence as she stared up at her grandson. Tears clung to her invisible lashes. For an instant, she looked like a child.
An oppressive silence filled the kitchen.
‘Miss Burney.’ Calum nodded towards the hallway just beyond the kitchen door. ‘A private word.’
Miss Burney. It was like that, was it?
‘Yes!’ Lady Faye ushered them both into the passage. ‘Talk. Sort this out between yourselves. And don’t you dare come back into the kitchen until Ellen has dispensed with this ridiculous idea of leaving us. It will not do.’ With another stamp of her foot, she slammed the door in their faces.
They were plunged into gloomy darkness.
Ellen narrowed her eyes, trying to make out the finer features of Calum’s face, but he was just a looming shadow against a backdrop of more shadows. There were no windows in this part of the house; with a solid wall down one side and the kitchen door closed behind them, it was almost impossible to see with any clarity.
He pulled in a shuddering breath, the gentle rustle of his superfine jacket against his waistcoat the only sound in the otherwise silent passage. It was a heavy silence, like a weight on her shoulders, grinding her into the floor.
‘Why didn’t you tell me about your siblings?’ His voice was low, as though he suspected Lady Faye of having her ear pressed to the door. Which she probably did.
‘Family problems aren’t something one usually discusses in polite society.’
‘Like hell. Answer me straight. Why didn’t you tell me about your brother?’
She let out a deep breath, bracing herself. ‘Because I wasn’t sure you’d care.’
‘Of course I care.’ His voice was harsh. ‘Why did you really come to my house?’
‘I didn’t lie about that. My friend Verity knew your grandmother was looking for a lady’s companion and she wrote to Lady Faye on my behalf.’
‘You said you have no other family.’
‘No. My mother died when Gwen was born, and my father passed away two years ago. He made a provision for my dowry, which Geoffrey paid little attention to.’
‘Gwen—’
‘Is my responsibility. Geoffrey knows nothing of children. He…’ she faltered. ‘The day he hit her was the day I knew we couldn’t stay under his roof any longer.’ Her eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkened passageway. There were small spots of light leaking out from the bottom of the closed kitchen door. And then a shadow and the slight creaking of floorboards, probably the dowager moving around just on the other side of the door.
‘And that’s when your friend, this Mrs Nott, started making employment inquiries?’
‘Yes…no.’ She frowned. ‘I went to Verity to ask for her advice, and she showed me Lady Faye’s acc
eptance letter. Verity was a childhood friend of my mother and was happy to help.’
Leaving Calum’s house was the last thing she wanted to do, but it would be better for them all if she wasn’t here if Geoffrey returned—when he returned. Better to get the goodbyes over with before she lost her nerve. ‘I really do appreciate everything you and your grandmother—and Owen—have done for me, but that doesn’t mean I expect you to risk the reputation of your family any more than need be just because of my idiot brother. He’s my problem, not yours.’
‘That’s far from the truth. You’re under my roof and therefore under my protection.’
‘I don’t expect—’
‘I won’t let Blackford near you or your sister.’ He cut her off, his words abrupt. ‘Tell me exactly where she’s hiding and I’ll bring her to London.’
‘Back here? To London?’ Her mouth opened. Why wasn’t he demanding she leave? It made no sense.
‘Aye. Where is Gwen hiding?’
‘Tell him!’ demanded Lady Faye through the closed door.
‘Um…near Evendale. With another of my mother’s friends and her sister-in-law.’
‘Good. It shouldn’t take me more than three days at most, there and back.’ He started down the corridor, but she caught at his arm. In the half-dark, her sense of touch was heightened. She could feel his corded muscles practically quivering with tension even beneath the layers of his clothing.
‘Think about this for a moment. Geoffrey knows I’m here. If we bring Gwen to London, we’ll practically be handing her over to him. And if I’m going to find new employ, I can’t have a child with me. No position—’
‘Who said anything about new employment? This is your home. I’ll keep you both safe here.’
‘But—’
‘No buts.’
‘It isn’t that simple.’ He was infuriating! ‘You lied to Geoffrey about us being married.’ If the newspapers found out, her reputation would be ruined. She’d never find new work. She’d never make a living of her own. Never have her independence. Never be able to provide Gwen with safety and security.
‘I’ve been a sailor and a soldier. For a while, some people even thought me a traitor and a murderer. But I’ve never lied. Not to you, and certainly not to your idiot of a brother, not entirely at any rate.’
‘What do you mean?’
He reached out as if he meant to brush a strand of hair from her face but stopped, letting his hand drop back to his side. ‘I mean, by week’s end both you and Gwen will be safe forever. By week’s end, you and I will be wed.’
***
Cal clenched his hands by his sides, keeping as still as humanly possible, not trusting himself to move or speak any more than necessary. His Ellie had a Jack o’Dandy for a brother and she hadn’t told him because she didn’t think he’d care enough to do anything to help.
His insides twisted into a knot.
She stood just inches away but there might as well have been a chasm between them. The urge to take her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her small frame was almost too strong to resist. Of course he bloody well cared.
The narrow passage seemed to be shrinking, pushing them closer and closer together.
He pressed his eyes closed, barely trusted himself to breath. He wanted…so many things he could barely think straight. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to beat Geoffrey senseless. He wanted privacy in his own house, away from his spying servants and his meddling grandmother. He wanted the newspapers to burn in hell.
But most of all he wanted Ellie to trust him.
What of that secret Geoffrey was threatening to tell everyone?
That was just another thing she’d kept from him. Another thing she hadn’t thought he’d care about.
Blast it all. Cal had seen the bruises on her arms that first night. He should have demanded she tell him everything there and then.
Even as he berated himself, he knew pressuring her wouldn’t have worked. She’d had enough of that from her brother.
Nay. If he was going to get Ellie to finally trust him, he was going to have to give her good reason to do so. If he wanted her trust, he’d have to keep his word. They would be married, and he would keep both her and her sister safe from Geoffrey.
A husband had legal rights over a wife where a brother did not. Geoffrey would not be able to get a look in once they were wed. He’d be forced to return to Evendale with his tail between his legs.
Cal gave a self-satisfied nod. It was the perfect plan.
And the niggling voice at the back of his mind asking why Ellie’s trust was so important to him— He was much too busy to contemplate that now.
***
By week’s end, you and I will be wed.
Seconds of pregnant silence ticked by. In the drawing room, the pendulum clock stuck the hour, and the other clocks answered in kind.
Calum stood stock still, a mountain of a man: immovable and so frustratingly stubborn.
‘I’m not going to marry you.’ Ellen wanted to punch him. Instead, she let out a frustrated sigh. ‘Come here.’ She led him into the library, away from Lady Faye’s listening ears.
The heavy brocade curtains were open, letting in the last of the afternoon sun. Expression was beginning to return to Calum’s face. It appeared he couldn’t keep his emotions under such strict guard for long. The corners of his mouth were turned down.
She turned her back on him, afraid she wouldn’t be able to keep her distance if he kept looking at her like that. They should have stayed in the dark passageway where she couldn’t see his face.
For such a small room, the library housed an impressive number of books. They were packed into the bookcases, double stacked in some places, and newspapers had pushed into all remaining available space. Old papers littered the floor. Adelynn hadn’t dared tidy a room so obviously the duke’s private space. Ellen’s eyes lingered on the books stacked knee high beside the outdated cerulean armchair.
‘I daresay you don’t understand.’ He spoke slowly as though her level of comprehension had dropped considerably in the last half hour. Or perhaps it was just his estimation of her that had dropped now he knew what type of family she came from. He walked around her so they were face to face again. ‘As my wife you’d be free of your brother. I would give you a monthly allowance, and Gwen would live with us in London. Or in the country if you prefer. I have several estates—’
‘I understand perfectly well. I’m not a goosecap.’ And she wasn’t a charity case either. She ran a hand over her hair, and the pins in her chignon prodded painfully into her scalp. If they married, she’d be behoven to Calum for the rest of her life, unable to even earn a simple wage. Independence had been so hard won. She wasn’t going to give it up so easily just to scare away Geoffrey.
‘I’m not suggesting—’ He made a noise of exasperation, and his mouth snapped shut in a way that made it perfectly clear he was too frustrated with her to finish his sentence.
The dark shadow that always clung to his face was darker than usual. He rubbed at the thigh of his wounded leg as though trying to rub away the pain. As though he were readying himself for another fight.
Lady Faye had described him as a happy child, but Ellen had rarely seen him smile all the time she’d known him. The war had left more damage than half a body of scars. Now she’d brought the threat of violence into his own house, the very house he’d hidden himself in to get away from the gossips and the noise and the brutality of life.
The shadow was there because of her.
‘When was the last time you ate a proper meal?’ she demanded.
‘I’m asking you to marry me and you want to talk of food?’
‘If I might be so forward as to point out that you didn’t ask me to marry you. You demanded, and I refused. Thank you all the same.’
‘Can’t ye see I’m trying to help?’ he practically yelled, slipped back into his Scottish accent.
‘Shouting isn’t going
to change my mind. You need not concern yourself with my welfare. I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself and Gwen. My brother ruffled your feathers, and you spoke in haste. I won’t hold you to your word. I have my own plan. I can—’
‘Concern myself? What exactly do ye mean by that?’
‘I mean marriage to me wouldn’t suit,’ she said simply, truthfully. ‘You can barely tolerate servants living under the same roof as you, let alone your own grandmother. What do you want with a wife?’
A pause. A flash of thought crossed his face. And then he slow-blinked, his heavy-lidded eyes softening. ‘But Ellie dearest, there are so many answers to that question which would have ye blushing.’ His voice was almost a purr. A complete turnaround from a second ago.
She missed a breath. Getting angry hadn’t worked, and now he was…seducing her? ‘That isn’t going to work either.’
He raised a single eyebrow. ‘Isn’t it?’ Another purr.
Tingles prickled her skin. Starting at the top of her head, they rolled down her body beneath her sensible grey gown and tightly laced stays like waves against the water’s edge until a light sheen of sweat broke out on her forehead. ‘Um…’ Her mouth was dry. ‘I… It will not do for us to marry,’ she said finally. The safest course of action was to ignore his attempt at flirtation. She was suddenly aware of just how much space he took up in the small library.
‘Marriage is the simplest solution,’ Calum replied, taking a step closer.
‘A married woman cannot work. I wouldn’t be able to support myself. I have a plan.’ She tried to focus on her reasons for refusing his suit, but it was like trying to trap water in her hands. Thoughts were melting out of her head. He was so close she could see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. ‘A good p-plan. I’ll find new employment…’ She licked her suddenly dry lips. ‘And make money…and save Gwen…’
‘But I could support ye. I have more than enough money for the both of us. More than enough money for the three of us.’ He slipped an arm about her waist, sending a wave of heat through from body from where his arm held her. And he wasn’t even touching her bare skin.
The Unworthy Duke Page 14