The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 5

by MacMurrough, Sorcha

  Lawrence stammered, "N-n-n-no, it' s not possible. You're lying!"

  Blake nodded. "Juliet's trying to tell you the whole truth about your marriage, old chap. I think you'd better listen."

  "She can't be--"

  "Every word she just said is true," Blake confirmed. "I'm sorry to have to say it, but you were nearly duped on your wedding day. Though not by Juliet."

  Lawrence's mouth worked up and down like a landed trout's for a moment. When he finally regained the power of speech, he stammered, "But she-- And we never-- Matilda told me--"

  Philip poked his head around the door, and shook his head. "It's all true, Lawrence, every word. But perhaps you can discuss the more intimate details with your wife later, when you're not so upset."

  "No," he said, scowling furiously, "for there's nothing to discuss. I swear to you by all I hold sacred, Matilda and I never went to bed together. Never. She told me she'd been chaste since her husband had died and that we should wait until our marriage. She groped me a bit, but that was all, the better to lead me on. I was busy setting up everything in London and Bristol, and didn't really have time or care. I thought her solid, respectable, unexciting. I was willing to wait.

  "I was anticipating life being so dull with her that when the other Matthew, Matthew Sampson, suggested I have a go at the most fabulous Incognita in the Ton, I decided why not have a last fling before I settled down to a stolid life of domestic respectability. Except I got the address wrong, and came to your house instead. The rest you know. I blamed you, thought it was a trick."

  She nodded. "I never deceived you, darling, but nor could I tell you the whole truth. The fact is, well, even leaving aside my fascination and desire for you, I did have an ulterior motive for agreeing to marry you. Not for your wealth, but in order to save you from Matilda. Because I wanted you, and well, I could see you needed me."

  "I do need you, I can admit it now." He kissed her hand tenderly.

  "I could see it. You were so glowing and full of hope until my brother came in, and just seeing him dragged you right back to the cold, dark past you thought you had left behind when you went to India to make your fortune.

  "But he and his friends never bore you an ounce of ill will. I had heard all about you and your circumstances from the Rakehells. They said so many good things about you, that I was delighted to meet you, and hence, well, where we ended up.

  "The more time I spent with you that night, the more it seemed to confirm everything that they had told me, darling, and that we were made for each other. For that glimpse of what it was like to find true love with a man I could admire, respect, and esteem, well, I was willing to risk my all and give my all for it. And not because of what I hoped to get from you, Lawrence, but for what I hoped to bestow. The love of a good woman, not a selfish and self-serving one like Matilda."

  "You did it for me?" he whispered.

  She nodded. "Aye, to save you, even if it meant putting myself in peril. No, not because I was frightened of you, though I suppose I should have thought more about the pox. But you're a worldly man, and sensible above all, so I trusted in you having always been cautious.

  "I'm not so naïve that I don't know what happened to fallen women in this society, but I'm not friendless and alone. I didn't have to go through with the wedding, you know. But I did it to stop you marrying Matilda. Ask Althea if you don't believe me."

  "Oh I do, sweetheart, that's just the trouble. I believe you, and yet it's all so incredible."

  "I could very easily have refused to marry you that day, brazened it out until we saw whether or not there was a child on the way, and then decided what to do."

  "I know. I could have as well. Or just walked out."

  "But you didn't walk away."

  "No, and thank God not, since there is indeed a child. Our child."

  She stroked his cheek. "You believe me after all, then?"

  He nodded emphatically. "Our son or daughter will be loved and treasured, I promise. I'm so very grateful for, and humbled by your capacity to love. I want to learn that from you. It's the greatest blessing you've ever given me, even more than, well, you know. I saw the sheets. You were pure as the driven snow until you let me into your bed, into your heart. I'm your only love at the moment, and I have no intention of sharing you with anyone except our family and friends. And only in the platonic sense." He kissed her warmly.

  When he raised his lips, he asked, "I know you're a loving woman, but how on earth could you ever have brought yourself to marry me after all I said and did that fateful morning. I was so hateful and hurtful to you."

  She shrugged one shoulder and gave him a weak smile. "Even beyond my own predicament, Althea reminded me to consider how much was at stake for both of us. I knew all about Matilda from Matthew. So I didn't really have to think twice. I knew it was virtually a matter of life and death. And I was pretty sure I loved you. And that you cared for me. You asked me to marry you before Matthew ever barged in, remember?"

  He nodded. "I do. You see, I was thinking clearly after all, even though I was so dazzled. All I knew was I had found a treasure so precious, I simply couldn't let it go."

  "Matilda would have led you a merry dance and divorced you for infidelity. You can count yourself lucky you didn't end up with a dose of the pox."

  "I know it now." He sighed.

  "You don't look convinced," she said softly.

  He got off the floor where he had been kneeling, and leaned down to embrace her. Then he perched carefully on the edge of the bed, making sure he didn't lean on any part of her. "I am sure. It's just, well, I can't believe how cruel I've been to you. I've been furious with myself for this entire mull. After all, I don't normally ring the front door bell of a respectable home, mistake it for a brothel, and roger the first woman I meet. I've made so many mistakes, I can't see how you can even stand to look at me."

  "Darling, please, it doesn't matter now." She reached out to stroke his shoulder. "I love you. I've been telling you all along. I don't know how long it will take to convince you. Maybe a lifetime. But then my life is yours to share. Or not, if you really wish to be rid of me."

  "No, not at all," he said firmly, shaking his head. "It would be like ripping the heart from my body. But it does matter, what I've done. Look what I've brought you to. All because you were kind enough to try to save me. Because you're tender-hearted and cared what became of me.

  "And now I've destroyed you. I'm never going to get back that adorably pert young woman who sparkled like the brightest star in the firmament in a gown fit for a goddess. I've torn it all to shreds." He fingered the remnant of her gown sleeve, then put his head down on her shoulder and began to weep.

  She was startled, but stroked his hair tenderly. "I don't know. I'm told being a wife and mother, with an adoring husband and baby, is a pretty joyous time in a woman's life. Some parts of our life may be over, but there's still a great deal more to share."

  "I can't be so selfish. I don't want to hurt you any more than I have already."

  "If you can honestly say you believe in my fidelity, that this baby is yours--"

  He gulped back his tears, reminding her of a small child. "I do believe it. I was so jealous. Not just of you talking to other men, but the way, well, the way you fit in with the Rakehells and all of their friends down here so effortlessly, as if you were always a part of them," he admitted with a rare flash of complete candour. "I was a fool. That damned chip on my shoulder again."

  She stroked his cheek, pitying him with all her heart. How had such an intelligent and compelling man come to this? "If you can honestly say you believe in my fidelity, that this baby is yours, then I want us to stay married, to try again. But I want you and I to woo each other properly. Take the time to really get to know each other, without any arguments, and without, well, the dazzling passion we share."

  Blake, who had been sorting through his medicine bag on the far side of the well-appointed blue and mahogany chamber, scowled at them bot
h.

  "That's exactly right. Absolutely no dazzling passion until I say so. You need to rest, Juliet, which means you're going to be in this bed and bored for weeks. You get a kiss on the cheek if you're lucky, Lawrence, do you hear me?"

  He nodded. "Yes, anything. If only you'll agree to remain my wife."

  Philip said quickly, "I know he's an old school friend of mine, Juliet, but as your solicitor I'm advising you to think carefully before you commit yourself to anything."

  She shook her head. "I don't need to think, Philip. I'm already committed to him. We're married. 'Let no man put asunder, remember?' That includes you, Lawrence."

  "I don't want a divorce. I know I'm terrible at sharing my thoughts. Please, just believe me when I say I love you and I'll do anything for your forgiveness."

  "Anything?"

  "Anything."

  "That includes trying to get along with all of the Rakehells, including my brother?" she asked softly.

  He gave an abrupt nod. "I will try. Give me a bit more time, and we'll see."

  "Thank you. I love you."

  "I love you. God forgive me for being so blind. But I'm going to find out the truth. All of it, as soon as you're well. No more being haunted by the past."

  He kissed her and began to cry softly again against her silken fall of hair. She wiped away his tears with her slender fingers, which he now kissed.

  "It's all right, Juliet. Everything is going to be all right. I swear it."

  He looked up at Blake hopefully.

  Blake nodded. "There was just some staining. It's stopped now. She twisted her back but she and baby are fine. I'm going to prop the bed up just to be sure, and we'll need to check her every hour.

  "Luckily, she's one strong girl. Of course, she's had some good country breeding. None of the missish putting on of Town airs and too tight corsets for you or your sister, eh?"

  "No, indeed," Juliet said with a slight smile. "London was more than enough for me the few days I got to stay there. Most unhealthy. Nothing could compare to Somerset, except back home in Dorset."

  "Aye, it's lovely here."

  Lawrence stared. How was it that Blake knew more about his own wife than he did? And what was this about Dorset? Matthew had been brought up in Surrey and Berkshire.

  Blake said quietly, "I'm going to have a trundle bed made up for you here, that is if you want to stay with her."

  "I'm staying," Lawrence said firmly.

  "I'll just get some wooden blocks for the bed. Call if she starts to feel any more pain."

  Lawrence blanched at the mention of the wooden blocks, and felt as though he would be ill all over again.

  Eswara said, "Don't worry."

  "I can't help it."

  "She's in good hands."

  "I only wish she had been in better ones up to this point."

  Eswara stared at him assessingly for a moment. Then she replied, "The gods have seen fit to give you more than your fair share of luck and chances. Don't waste this one, will you, Lawrence. "

  "I'll try," he promised, cuffing the tears from his cheeks. Eswara had given him the clue he needed to go on. He sat up more fully and took his wife's hand.

  "Tell me about Dorset," he asked quietly.

  "What, you mean the place, or my life?" she asked in surprise.

  "Both."

  She described the house she had lived in, and her sister Miranda. For the first time ever, he truly listened to her uncritically, not sifting through every word looking for falsehoods or a reason to mistrust her. To try to detect conspiracy where there was none.

  Blake returned a short time later with some night things. "Arabella gave me these and said use whatever you like. Eswara can help get you settled. Let's just leave them for a little while, eh, Lawrence?"

  "Oh, er, yes. Call me when you're done, sweetheart."

  "I will, and thank you for staying with me."

  He shook his head. "It's I who should be thanking you for that."

  Philip went out first and held the door for Lawrence. "I'll just head back downstairs to speak with my wife for a moment. I'll be right back." His low tone and sharp look at Lawrence made it sound like more of a threat than a promise.

  "Thank you, Philip. Really. You saved my wife when I couldn't. I'll always be grateful."

  "Thank your wife, not me. If I had my way, I would leave you to rot. But she loves you. I will have to respect her wishes, and not start divorce proceedings. But you owe me a favor, Lawrence, and I have every intention of collecting."

  Lawrence stiffened.

  "Learn how to love your wife. I guarantee, once you really get to know her, you won't be disappointed." With that he vanished down the elegant staircase.

  Lawrence stood staring after him for a time. Then he looked down the hall at his companion. "Blake, this going to sound like an odd question, but can you please tell me everything you know about my wife?"

  Blake shrugged. "There isn't much to tell. There was a family scandal. Matthew's mother died. His father cast off she and her sister Miranda, not quite identical twins. They were fostered out to a couple called Lyons, and lived with that name. Matthew met them perhaps a half dozen times over the years."

  "So that's why no one knew Matthew Dane had any sisters? And why she wasn't the toast of the Ton even though she's so gorgeous."

  Blake nodded. "Now that he's settled and respectably married, Matthew thought he and his wife could do something for them. Give them a London season and perhaps a settlement so they could marry well. They're both as green as grass. They were only up in Town for a week or so when you met Juliet, and were hardly seen except by we Rakehells and a few shopkeepers. Althea was working on getting them kitted out with a few less countryfied fashions, and Lady Pemberton was getting ready to present them at court. But then you met Juliet, and well—" He spread his hands wide.

  "My God, and all this time, I've been accusing her of—"

  Blake shook his head. "And worse. Of trying to destroy you as well, when anyone can see she is a loving woman incapable of guile."

  "What else do you know about her?" Larwrence asked, eagerness replacing the last twinge of jealousy which plagued him.

  He flapped one arm at his side. "Not much that can help you with the answers you really seek. I know she loves roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, and told my wife something about adoring swings."

  Lawrence blushed, but for the first time in a long time he almost felt like smiling.

  "Lady Pemberton could tell you more. Or her guardians the Lyonses down in Dorset. That's all Matthew ever told me of her past history, and I doubt he's withholding anything. You can ask Philip, Thomas or Randall if that helps. If you're willing to talk to any of them, that is," he added with a grimace.

  Lawrence nodded. "I will. I gave Philip my word, and I have to start somewhere."

  "Start with Juliet, when she's feeling better. You need to learn how to talk to your own wife. Or should I say, actually listen to her."

  Lawrence couldn't wait for her to get well, however, so he did indeed speak to the Rakehells about his wife, for they all came to call the next day to see how Juliet was.

  Lawrence was astonished at how everyone went out of their way to be so kind.

  At the end of Philip's visit with his wife Jasmine, he pulled Philip to one side in a small reception room, and expressed his gratitude for all he had done for her, that day, and the night she had been attacked.

  Philip shrugged. "You've been in a very dark place, Lawrence. We do want to help. The Rakehells look after their own."

  "So what do you know about my wife?"

  His account did not differ in any way from the others he had received already.

  Philip paced up and down in front of the hearth in the small half paneled room with pale blue flock wallpaper and walnut furnishings. "Listen. I don't know what happened with that business venture all those years ago, for I was in a bad way myself and left school as soon as I had finished my studies," Philip said.


  "But I can honestly say that greed has never been one of the Rakehells' failings. A certain eagerness for the ladies before they married, yes, but if you're thinking they cheated you for that reason, I still say you'd be wrong. You can tell me to mind my own business, but this has gone on for far too long. I think you need to find the whole truth. Go see Lady Pemberton in London, and talk to Matthew."

  Lawrence scowled and sat back on the sofa with a stubborn look on his face. "I'll see Lady Pemberton, but I'm not--"

  "I heard you promised your wife that if she got better that you would try to get on with her family and friends."