The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 5

by MacMurrough, Sorcha

  He sighed. "I'll start with Lady Pemberton."

  "All right. Just don't leave it too long."

  "But I can't go now, not when Juliet needs me."

  "No, but in a few days. And she can come to stay with us while you're away," Philip offered, "unless of course Blake insists on her staying here for medical reasons."

  "You're all being very good about--"

  Philip waved away his thanks. "You've been acting like a madman. When you're willing to steady yourself down and confide in someone rationally, we'll all be the better for it, especially your poor wife."

  Lawrence broke down then and told Philip about the state of his marriage ever since he had wed, his neglect, his mental cruelty. He wiped away his bitter tears at the end with Philip's handkerchief.

  His friend looked grim. "I am not going to berate you more than you've already done to yourself. I can see you've suffered through your misunderstandings, your suspicion and jealousy, and that all this has all been hellish for you. It has to stop, Lawrence, surely you can see that."

  "I don't know what to—"

  "You do," Philip maintained, before moving over to pour two glasses of sherry from the decanter on sideboard. "You were raised a decent Christian, and you're married to the best of women. I don't know Juliet intimately the way you do, it's true, so mayhap she does have some character traits you find it difficult to reconcile to."

  Lawrence shook his head. "That's just the trouble. She's perfect. Even when I was so furious with her, thinking her fallen, or a traitor, I couldn't stop wanting her."

  Philip smiled wryly. "And hated her all the more for it, I dare say."

  Lawrence didn't even bother to deny it.

  "Well, I can talk about the Juliet I've come to know and respect ever since Matthew introduced her to me and my wife. I can't understand how you could be so wrong about a sweet, loving young woman as to treat her the way you have.

  "Even if she were a fallen woman and a schemer, and all the other vile things you believed, did that make her any less of a human being?

  "I was a prostitute, for Heaven's sake. Are you going to send me out of the house and forbid your wife to have anything to do with me?"

  "No, no, of course not," Lawrence said sincerely.

  "Would I deserve cruelty, neglect and brutality just because I was trying to earn a living the only way I could to help support my entire family?"

  "No! I thought Matthew was setting out to ruin me somehow!"

  "Ruin you?" Philip snorted, all patience at an end at last. "You bloody fool. He saved you."

  Lawrence stared. "Saved me? I don't see how."

  Philip sighed, and sat across from Lawrence with a sigh. He handed him the sherry glass, and began, "Michael told me all about it. He and Matthew were there the day the letter came to your little office from your uncle, asking you to be his heir, and travel to India. The opportunity that saved you from ruin. Though it invited you to come out there, that was all."

  "All?"

  "There was no money for your fare to India."

  Lawrence shook his head. "Of course there was. I had nothing left after our partnership went bad. The money in the letter was the only thing that paid for my passage."

  Philip shook his head. "There was cash, it's true, but it never came from your uncle. It came from Matthew's own pocket. And added up to damned sight more than any dividends that you might have had from the investments you all made."

  "I don't understand. After the way I treated him, why on earth would he ever—Unless you mean he felt guilty, and was giving it back."

  Philip shook his head. "No, never guilty. The fact of the matter is, when the money went missing, Matthew knew he hadn't done it, so naturally began to look around for whoever did. In the end, he thought you were guilty of cleaning out the account yourself. He was livid at the accusations you had leveled at him, and angry with himself for having trusted you. But he gave you the money anyway. He hoped you'd make something of yourself with it far away from England and the shadow of your brother. And the woman who was being unfaithful to you right under your nose."

  Lawrence gaped, but knew all Philip was saying was true.

  "As for Juliet, well, when she learned that you were set to marry Matilda, she saved you as well. She didn't want you to end up a laughingstock and in that foul woman's clutches. If you had married Matilda, you would have been seen as the biggest gull alive, and she would have brought you nothing but scandal and ruin. You don't have to take my word for it. I'll give you a list of names you can take with you to London. Just make sure you have plenty of money for horse shoes, and a few new pairs for yourself."

  He shook his head and sighed. "I can't believe any of this. Damn it all to hell. Juliet told me one day I would find out the truth about her and feel like an idiot. But I've hurt her so much, the marriage should be over."

  Philip reached over to clap him on the shoulder. "Except that she loves you, old chap. Despite everything, Juliet sees the good in you. You offered her the chance for divorce and she was willing to take it to make you happy. Because even more than her own happiness, she wants yours. She loves you. In spite of everything. Doesn't that tell you something?"

  Lawrence downed his sherry in one gulp. "That the woman is a saint and I don't deserve her."

  "I thought you were coming to terms with each other? That you loved her?" Philip asked softly.

  "I do," he insisted.

  "Even though you thought her a harlot?"

  "Yes, even then."

  "So how much more do you love her now that you know she is innocent and chaste?"

  Lawrence shrugged. "I don't think I can love her any more than I already do, but I'm willing to give it my all."

  Philip nodded, satisfied. "Good man. But don't be surprised if you do love her more with each passing day. Your heart being open to her at last will make all things possible. And just wait until your baby is born."

  He heaved a ragged sigh. "If it's ever born. The poor thing has been through hell."

  "You're going to have a fine healthy son in the fall. You mark my words. And you're going to spend the rest of your life thanking all the gods in the heavens for the gift of their bounty. You thought Matthew took everything from you. If it hadn't been for him, where would you be now?"

  Lawrence shook his head. "I have no idea. I certainly wouldn't have all I do now."

  "And if Matthew hadn't agreed to let you marry Juliet?"

  He sighed. "I would be miserable right now married to his cast off mistress, and would never have known the joy that Juliet has brought into my life."

  "A joy all the more precious, I should think, because you have the bliss of her love when you've really never deserved it."

  Lawrence clinked his glass down on the table and rose to go see his wife. "Believe me, I can't get out of my mind just how unworthy of her I really am. It's part of the reason I've been acting like a madman, as you put it. But I swear to you, I am going to make it up to her. To you all. If Juliet still loves me after all, this I shall worship her like a saint or goddess. For she would surely be one to continue to love a bastard like me."

  "Not a bastard. Just a very haunted and angry man."

  At the end of a week Juliet declared herself hale and hearty, with her back feeling very much better. Blake insisted she should stay to be kept an eye on by he and his wife. She got out of bed and was able to sit and read to the boys and chat to her husband.

  He basked in the opportunity to wait on her hand and foot, but the questions which teemed in his mind refuse to rest.

  "I need to go to London for a few days, though, darling," Lawrence said quietly at one point. "I hate to leave you, but--"

  She gave him a reassuring smile. "One last separate journey. You're going where I can't follow."

  "You know why?"

  Juliet nodded. "I do. But I'll be waiting for you when you get back. Then you can tell me everything."

  "I love you, Juliet."

  "I kn
ow you think you do at the moment. Only time will tell. Go on, seek your truth, and come back home to me a whole man."

  Lawrence's first port of call in the capital was not his warehouse, but Lady Pemberton's.

  She was rather surprised to see him, but made him feel welcome. The handsome older woman gestured him to a chair, and did not bother to beat around the bush.

  "I've heard about your wedding to Juliet from my nephew Matthew. Why have you come here, Lawrence?"

  He tried not to be humbled by the magnificence of the blue and gold drawing room she had received him in. "I know this is going to sound like an odd question, but I need you to tell me what you know about my wife."

  "Ah."

  Something in the tone of that single syllable made him start and stare at her expectantly.

  "I was wondering when you were going to come looking for the truth. It's taken you long enough. How is she?"

  "Not well. I've been a fool," he said bluntly.

  Lady Pemberton gasped. "What do you mean, not well?"

  "She nearly miscarried. Blake Sanderson says she's better, she says she is as well, but I'm afraid I've been harsh with her and have much to regret. I thought she was one thing. It turns out she's another."

  "And are you disappointed?"

  "No! Not at all," he said sincerely. "Maybe that's just the trouble. She's everything I could have hoped for in a wife, if I ever dared hope so high. I want us to be happy. Her to be happy. I'm just not sure if she can be with me. I've been like a madman with her, loving one minute, shouting and furiously jealous the next. She's a loving woman, but I don't know if she can ever find it in her heart to forgive me."

  "Do you love her?"

  He shrugged hopelessly. "I think so. I'm fairly sure I do. But I don't know."

  The silver-haired woman glared at him from her piercing blue eyes . "You're going to have to do a damned sight better than that!"

  "But how do you know? How can one ever know? What is love?" he asked, his emotions surging so powerfully they threatened to choke him.

  Lady Pemberton sighed. So that was it. "It’s no one single thing. It’s a million things, little and great. The life you build together with each other. The nights of joy and the sharing, tenderness, even when intimacy isn’t possible. Holding hands, putting your arms around each other, being affectionate and devoted, aware of the other person. Desiring to please her instead of only yourself."

  "And being faithful. How can I be sure?"

  She shrugged her thin shoulders and shook her head. "No one can ever be completely sure, but great intimacy usually ensures that neither partner ever has the chance or desire to stray.

  "Matthew's parents had all that and more, until Matthew's father destroyed his marriage by refusing to trust Matthew's mother. I can tell you for certain, she was never unfaithful."

  Lawrence blinked in confusion. "Matthew's parents? I thought we were speaking of my marriage."

  Lady Pemberton sighed. He had been a self-centered man for a long time, but perhaps he was ready to hear the whole truth now. Hear it, and listen, and understand.

  "Matthew's mother adored him, wanted a whole house full of children. Alas, it was not to be. Years passed with him as the only one. Not even a false pregnancy or miscarriage. Then one day, just after Matthew went off to boarding school for the first time with all you Rakehells, she suspected she was pregnant. Was overjoyed, but fearful she might have made a mistake, or that she might do something to provoke a miscarriage, and lose the chance of such a huge blessing.

  "She withheld herself in the marital bed because of that. She didn’t tell her husband because she was afraid he would make a huge fuss, be upset, treat her like an invalid. She was also afraid of disappointing him if it turned out that she was wrong, or that she lost the child.

  "She never lost interest in him as a husband, never came to London to see a lover. She came up to see a specialist. She was staying with me, and told me all about her bright hopes of another son. She adored Matthew so. Worshipped him. Raised him like a demigod, which is why he was always a bit spoilt and arrogant. But he's always had a good heart, and tried not to hurt people if he could help it."

  Lawrence stared at her in confusion. "I still don't understand--"

  "Patience. Forgive me if I occasionally seem to digress. After her visit to the specialist, who assured her that all was well, Matthew's mother went out the following day to buy Matthew's father a gift. She wanted to buy him something special to make up to him for what she felt was her marital neglect. To tell him what the doctor said, and explain everything. To share the wonderful news, and celebrate"

  She sighed for a moment. "Alas, fate intervened, in the most harmless way. Whilst out, she ran into an old school friend, and agreed to take tea with her. Her friend met up by chance with a male acquaintance, who offered them a ride home in his carriage when they were finished with all their shopping. The friend went across the street to buy one last-minute item, and left them alone, never dreaming that any harm could come of it.

  "Only that one innocent act led to the most dire consequences. Matthew's father had followed his wife up to Town hoping to surprise her. He saw she and the harmless chap together admiring the gift Matthew's mother had bought for Matthew's father, a lovely new fob watch.

  "I'm ashamed to admit that my brother misread the whole thing completely. Jealousy caused him to do the unthinkable with the woman in his life he adored more than life itself. He banished her from the house, forbade her to ever see Matthew again, and filed for divorce. He named the gentleman as having had a criminal conversation with her."

  Lawrence felt ill as he heard the latter part of the tale. And to think he had come so close to losing his own wife because of his blind jealousy and the rage it provoked. "Don't stop now, please, Lady Pemberton. I need to know. What happened next?"

  "As you can imagine, it was the scandal of the year. Yet oddly, no one took my brother's part. His wife had been so completely above reproach, not even the gossip hungry Ton could find fault with her. Everyone tried to reason with him, me above all. Matthew's mother was as close to me as any sister could ever have been. But his father insisted that even if she had been blameless in London, she had been up to no good for months at home. He refused to believe the child was his. She died in childbed, with the twin girls who arrived farmed out to a decent family down on the south coast, down in Dorset.

  "I begged and pleaded, but they were not permitted to be anywhere near Matthew. I can honestly say, having seen the girls, that they could not have looked more like their father if they had been stamped at the same mint.

  "I wanted to raise them myself, but Matthew's father forbade me to interfere. I'm sorry to tell you that my husband, God rest him, insisted I stay out of it. Those twin girls were Juliet and her sister Miranda."

  He opened his mouth to ask another question, but she halted him with one raised hand.

  "But before I tell you about them, let me finish the story of my sister-in-law and brother. After Matthew's mother died, Matthew's father was never the same. He became a religious fanatic who saw depravity everywhere. He told Matthew, his only son, whom he had once loved, that he was full of base desires. That probably goaded him into committing even more rakish excesses. I understand young people only too well, their spirit of rebellion.

  "But what was even worse than his father's fanaticism was his coldness. His wife's supposed infidelity made him second-guess himself, see treachery everywhere even when none existed. He even started to doubt that Matthew was his, though they were as alike as two peas in a pod."

  She fixed him one more with her rapier-like gaze. "You can see now what jealousy, mistrust and suspicion can do to even the happiest of marriages. He should have trusted her. They were so happy. Why could he not believe it was true love?"

  "Perhaps he felt he didn’t deserve it?" Lawrence said softly.

  "And what would ever give you the idea that you didn’t?" she demanded astutely.

 
; He sighed, poised on the brink of a momentous confession, something he had dared not admit even to himself before. He pressed his palms together as though in the confessional, and took a deep, steadying breath before revealing, "I wanted to be a good, virtuous man. But after what happened here in England, being a second son, and then losing my business and my fiancee because of the actions of the very people I should have been able to trust the most, well, I started to tell myself that the ends justified the means.

  "Once I left for India, all my hopes dashed, to encounter my debauched opium addict of an uncle, I'm afraid to admit that I didn't dare trust, didn't dare love. I just became a law unto myself. I was determined that no one would ever touch my heart, or see me vulnerable. I swore to myself as I sailed from these shores that no one would ever be able to take advantage of me again."