Born to Scandal

by Diane Gaston

  Even in her misery, Anna realised this was a more relaxed and happy household than Brentmore Hall. Perhaps nothing would entirely erase the unhappiness of that place. She shuddered that she might spend years there.

  Would the new marchioness be in residence there often? Or would she and the marquess spend most of their time in London? Would Lord Brentmore abandon the care of the children to his new wife? Would both she and the children lose him entirely?

  How would Anna bear up under such changes? It was likely that she would be required to answer to the new marchioness and would lose her say over the children. Had she not lost enough already?

  Most painful of all, how was Anna to endure the knowledge that Miss Rolfe would share Lord Brentmore’s bed?

  There was nothing to object to in Miss Rolfe, truth be told. Her eyes were kind and she’d tried to engage the children in conversation as they ate their ices. She’d been gentle with Cal. Her clothes were not extravagant. Her light brown hair was simply dressed and all but covered with her bonnet. She was shorter than Anna, about as tall as Charlotte, whose height the comportment tutor insisted gentlemen preferred.

  By the time Anna had finished dinner, she’d erected walls around her pain. It had been her foolishness that had caused her to become infatuated with a marquess, the weakness like her mother’s to wish to seduce him.

  She was strong. She could overcome loneliness and need. She’d merely forgotten what her father—Mr Hill, she meant—always said to her. That she was not a lady, no matter how many ladylike airs she adopted, and that she should never expect to be treated as one.

  ‘I had forgotten that, Papa,’ she said aloud to the empty room. ‘But I shan’t forget it any more.’

  After leaving the dining room, Anna checked on the children. Both were sound asleep in their beds. Dory still held her doll in her arms. Cal slept with his sword. She kissed their smooth, untroubled foreheads and tucked the covers around each of them.

  Anna retreated to her room, and allowed the maid to assist her in readying herself for bed. She let the maid’s chatter wash over her. The girl went on about all the toys his lordship purchased today and how delighted the children had been and how enjoyable it must have been to pick out whatever they wanted at the toy shop.

  When the maid finally bid her goodnight, Anna stood in the centre of the room, her arms around herself in a vain attempt at self-comfort. Tears threatened, but she refused to give in to them. Instead she paced the room, scolding herself for romantic fantasies, forcing herself to return to the strong, sanguine person she’d once been as Charlotte’s companion. Back then she’d never expected anything for the morrow, never made plans, just happily accepted what came her way.

  She walked to the window that overlooked the street and faced Cavendish Square. The long summer day had finally given way to night and the silence and darkness was broken only by the occasional carriage, with its lamps lighting the way.

  It was time for her to accept who she was and where she belonged—somewhere in between Charlotte’s world and her mother’s, but not part of either.

  She would purge herself of that carnal awareness of Lord Brentmore and learn to regard him, not as a lover, not as a friend, but as her employer.

  ‘I’ll not weaken again,’ she vowed.

  Chapter Twelve

  Brent and his cousin Peter climbed into Brent’s carriage after spending an afternoon and evening with Baron Rolfe and his wife and daughter. It had not been Brent’s plan. He’d planned to make a quick call on the baron, reassure him that all was well, make an appointment for a later time and return to his children—and Anna.

  He’d forgotten how affable the Rolfes were and how dependent they were on him for the survival of the baron’s estate and for the well-being of the baron’s children. He’d forgotten how thoroughly duty to others ruled the time of a marquess.

  So he’d stayed with the Rolfes the afternoon, remained for dinner, and for tea afterwards.

  ‘It was good of you to spend the evening, Brent,’ his cousin said as soon as he was settled in the rear-facing seat of the carriage. ‘Lord and Lady Rolfe were nearly at their wit’s end when they had little word from you for so many weeks.’

  ‘I’d not intended them to worry.’ He’d actually given the Rolfes little thought when he was at Brentmore. ‘The children were in great need of my attention.’

  ‘The new governess summoned you, you said.’ Peter leaned back on the seat, clearly wanting Brent to tell him more.

  There was little detail Brent wished to provide, even to his cousin. That a physician declared his son insane? That the children had been like prisoners in their rooms? That he had formed this unusual and at times ungentlemanly attachment to their governess?

  That he had treated her very shabbily this day?

  He rubbed his face. ‘It was fortunate that she summoned me. The children were more troubled over their mother’s death and the death of the old governess than I had been led to believe. Parker, it turned out, was not a very good reporter on the children’s welfare.’

  ‘And the governess was?’ Peter added.

  ‘She made all the difference.’ And look how he repaid her. Hurting her, over and over.

  ‘She’s quite stunning,’ Peter said. ‘I’d not expected that.’

  Stunning was a good description. Not the perfection of feminine beauty, but none the less so lovely it was difficult to look away.

  ‘Quite stunning,’ Brent agreed, keeping his tone even.

  ‘How is that for you?’ Peter persisted.

  ‘How is what for me?’ Brent played dumb.

  ‘That your governess is a beauty.’

  Brent made himself shrug. ‘That would be to no purpose if she were not excellent with the children.’ Where would his children be without her?

  Peter’s expression turned sceptical.

  Brent ignored it. Instead he launched a counter-attack. ‘You said you would explain my continued absence to Baron Rolfe and his daughter. Did you not do that?’

  ‘Of course I did!’ Peter looked offended. ‘But Rolfe is insecure. He needs funds quickly.’

  ‘So I learned.’ The baron had humbled himself, both in his recent letter and in his conversation with Brent this day, disclosing how desperate he was. ‘I’ll settle some money on him now. Parker can arrange it tomorrow.’

  ‘That is good of you,’ Peter murmured. ‘I hope he accepts it.’

  ‘Why wouldn’t he?’

  Peter glanced away. ‘He’s a proud man. He might think it is charity. You are not yet married to Susan—Miss Rolfe, I mean. You have not made an announcement or set a date.’

  ‘I am not ready.’ He frowned. ‘The children are not ready.’

  Brent knew Peter was right. He was being unfair to these good people to keep them in limbo, but he was not ready to marry.

  Peter persisted. ‘Do you not think it wise for the children to see Miss Rolfe as their mother as soon as possible?’

  ‘No.’ His tone was firm, but his reasons elusive. Why wait?

  He wanted more time, like their time together during the summer. He wanted to help his son heal. He wanted to love Dory for herself.

  And he wanted more time alone with Anna, as dangerous that was to them both.

  Peter gave him a direct stare. ‘Forgive me speaking my mind, Brent. But it is this attitude that creates the Rolfes’ insecurity. I’ll not have you trifle with these people. They are more than friends to me—’

  Brent halted this speech with a raised hand. ‘I have no wish to trifle with anyone. And certainly no wish to cause scandal. I’ve come to London to set everything straight, as you asked me to. Do not expect me to do so within a matter of hours.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Miss Rolfe must understand my children take precedence over everything. I intend to spend a great deal of time with them in London. I will make an announcement and set a date for the wedding when I feel it is right for the children. If she cannot accept that, then perhaps she ought to cry o
ff.’

  The carriage stopped and both men glanced out the windows. They had reached Peter’s rooms.

  Peter rose to leave. ‘Very well, Brent. I suspect there are several who will think this attention to your children very odd, but I see much to commend in it. I will explain it to Miss Rolfe.’

  He climbed out and the carriage moved again, heading back to Cavendish Square.

  Brent’s thoughts immediately turned to Anna.

  He relived the shock on her face when he introduced her to Miss Rolfe and was filled with guilt and regret.

  No one was more deserving of happiness than Anna. Brent despised those people in her life who had so callously caused her pain.

  And he suffered from the knowledge that he was one of them.

  * * *

  As Anna stood at the window another carriage approached, but this carriage stopped in front of the town house and discharged its passenger.

  Lord Brentmore.

  His appearance was no more than a dark silhouette, but that familiar thrill erupted inside her. She was glad she was on the third floor, far away from him.

  She walked over to her bed and stared at the pillows. She was too restless to climb in and burrow under the covers. The brief glimpse of him was enough to set her insides fluttering like butterflies. She pressed her palm against her stomach and tried to still them.

  There was a knock on her door, causing her to jump.

  She crossed the room and put her lips near the door, pausing before saying, ‘Who is it?’ She knew very well who it was.

  ‘It is Brent.’

  Why did he use a familiar address? She’d never called him Brent...although she had called him Egan.

  ‘Will you open the door, Anna? I need to speak to you.’ His tone was pleading.

  She opened the door wide. No point in being tentative. She lifted her chin. ‘Yes, my lord?’

  ‘I owe you an apology—’ he began.

  She held up a hand. ‘No, you do not, my lord.’

  ‘I ought to have told you about my betrothal—’

  She shook her head. ‘I am governess to your children. I am in your employ. You do not owe me anything but wages.’

  His cheek stiffened.

  ‘I was surprised,’ she went on. ‘I admit that, but I quickly realised how inappropriate that was for someone of my station.’ Oh, she was managing this so well!

  ‘Stop it, Anna!’ His stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

  Anna’s heart beat faster.

  He stood inches from her. ‘I ought to have told you long ago about Miss Rolfe, because you know very well there is something more between us than governess and employer. I feel it now as I felt it the first day, when I spied you pacing back and forth in the square outside this house. It is what led us to overstep the proper bounds.’ His breathing accelerated. ‘It is what led us to almost make love.’

  All she had to do was take one step forwards and she could be in his arms; she could feel his lips against hers. She wanted his hands to stroke her body. She wanted him to touch her, to arouse her and to show her at last what it meant to be a woman.

  She forced herself to stand her ground.

  He ran a hand through his hair and turned away. ‘God help me, I want to make love to you right now—’

  ‘Do not say so,’ she rasped.

  He raised a hand. ‘I know we cannot. I will not. I will not dishonour you. I cannot dishonour her.’

  She turned her cheek as if he had struck her.

  He seized her arms. ‘Do you not see, Anna? I cannot treat you as Lawton did your mother.’

  She raised her eyes, full of pain and worry. ‘What do you do then? Do you send me away?’

  Lord Lawton—her father—had sent her away.

  His brows knitted. ‘Do you wish to leave?’

  Her chest ached. ‘If you wish me to, I have no choice.’

  He dropped his hands and swung away. ‘I want you to raise my children. I want them to know you will be there for them every day, but—but you are not trapped here, Anna. If you wish to leave I will help you in every way I can.’

  She folded her arms around her. ‘Who would hire me? You ought not to have hired me. I know nothing of being a governess.’

  He gave her an intent look. ‘You knew better than anyone what Cal needed. What both the children still need. You loved them. They feel secure with you. I want nothing to change that.’

  She stared at him. ‘Marrying Miss Rolfe will change things.’

  He gave her no argument.

  She straightened. ‘So we are to ignore this—this passion between us for the sake of the children?’

  ‘We must,’ he said in a low voice.

  She went on. ‘There must be no pretence of a friendship between us. We must be governess and employer. Nothing more.’

  He nodded and made a gesture of surrender. His face turned solemn. ‘I agree, but you must know, Anna, that I am still your friend ready to help you in any way, at any time.’

  Did he not know that his kindness was the sharpest dagger he plunged into her flesh?

  He raised his hand and drew a finger lightly down her cheek. ‘Goodnight, Anna.’

  He slipped out of the room and Anna touched her cheek.

  Would their bargain make matters better for her or worse?

  * * *

  The next morning Brent entered the dining room to find Parker seated there, sipping a cup of tea.

  ‘What the devil are you doing here?’ Brent barked.

  Parker rose to his feet. ‘I came early, my lord. There is much correspondence to pore through and since you were not available yesterday, I thought you might wish to get started as soon as possible.’

  ‘I can give you an hour this morning, no more.’ Brent poured his tea and sat. ‘I am taking the children to see the menagerie at the Tower.’ Not that he owed his man of business an explanation.

  ‘The children?’ Parker’s brows rose. ‘But you spent the day with them yesterday.’

  ‘I will spend part of each day with them, not that it is any of your concern.’ He lifted the teacup to his mouth and sipped. ‘By the way, I should tell you that I eat breakfast with the children. The governess will bring them any time now. You may fix yourself a plate and wait for me in the library.’

  ‘Wait for you?’ Parker seemed shocked.

  Brent nodded. ‘There is something I want you to arrange for me. A transfer of funds to Baron Rolfe.’

  ‘Baron Rolfe?’

  Parker knew nothing about his betrothal. ‘I’ll explain later. Go on with you.’

  Parker rose and hurriedly put some bread and ham on his plate. ‘Begging your pardon, sir, but I am astonished that you allow the children in the dining room.’

  Parker was a confirmed bachelor who had even less need for children than he had for women. It was obvious to Brent now that Parker knew nothing of the children’s needs.

  He gave the man of business his coolest stare. ‘I am astonished you would question my personal family affairs.’

  Parker stiffened, then bowed, plate in hand. ‘It will not happen again, my lord.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Brent took another sip of tea. ‘You may ask Davies to bring you some tea.’

  Almost immediately after Parker left, Anna and the children came in, Cal carrying his sword, Dory, her doll.

  Brent caught Anna’s eye briefly and smiled. She smiled back. It was a tentative smile at best, but then so had his been. But it was enough to encourage him that they could do this, help the children in spite of what hummed between them.

  ‘Papa!’ Dory ran over to give him a kiss.

  He kissed her back, disarmed in spite of the memories of her mother that she evoked.

  He left his chair to give Cal a hug. ‘How are you this morning? Did you sleep well?’

  Cal nodded.

  Anna spoke up. ‘As well as a boy could who slept with his sword.’

  Brent ran his finger down the wooden blade of the to
y sword. ‘A knight must be ready at all times to defend the castle. Is that not so, Cal?’

  Cal made a face. ‘Not a knight. An officer.’

  ‘An officer?’ Brent felt a pang of tenderness every time Cal spoke. ‘In the war, I suppose.’

  Cal nodded and then caught himself. ‘Yes.’

  Dory thrust her doll at Brent. ‘I slept with my doll, Papa.’

  ‘So you did, Dory.’ He obligingly admired the doll. ‘Did she sleep well?’

  Dory’s expression turned serious. ‘She did not make any noise all night long.’

  As they’d been afraid to do while Eunice has been alive.

  Anna clapped her hands. ‘Put the toys aside now, as you promised, and come tell me what you wish to eat this morning.’

  The breakfast was as calm and pleasant as Brent could expect. So why did he feel a tug of regret, as if he’d lost something he would never get back?

  * * *

  After breakfast, Brent met with Parker, then took the children to the Tower to see the animals. Kings had kept their menageries of exotic animals there for centuries, and now visitors could pay to see them.

  The trip was an unqualified failure. Although seeing the porcupine and zebra were met with cries of delight, the stench was so oppressive that Dory spent the entire time holding her nose. When they came upon the lions and tigers and other wild cats, the children stood silent. The big cats paced back and forth in their cages, always looking through the bars as if yearning to be free.

  Brent understood why the sight of the caged animals disturbed the children. They’d been caged, too, until recently.

  He less understood why Anna’s gaze was riveted to the panther cage.

  ‘Shall we go?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Cal said.

  Dory, her fingers still pinching her nose, nodded.

  Anna took one last glance at the panther. ‘As you wish.’

  She engaged the children as before, but spoke to him only when necessary. He mourned the loss of their easy camaraderie.

  When they waited for the carriage outside the Tower walls, Brent looked back at the imposing stone structure and leaned towards Anna. ‘I should not have brought them here, to see a prison and caged animals.’