Lady Priscilla's Shameful Secret

by Christine Merrill

  But at least it would be over.

  The Duke of Reighland was still standing there, giving her the same curious, up-and-down examination that he had been. Then he asked, ‘Are you pregnant?’

  ‘Certainly not!’ Her cheeks heated and her palm itched to slap him for being so bold as to ask. Then a thought struck her. ‘If I was, then why would I bother to tell you?’

  ‘Why would you have told me anything?’ he asked back, just as sensibly. ‘If you wished to marry me, you would have kept quiet on the first point. But if you truly wished to frighten me away, you’d have lied about the second. The two statements, taken together, only make sense to me if they are true. They seem to imply that you are a most candid young lady. The truth is an admirable quality and quite rare in London. It must be cherished when it is found. I have learned all I wish to know. I will have you.’ He stepped closer to her and she felt a sudden panicked scrambling desire to move away, back across the room before he would touch her.

  But he did nothing more than bow before her, taking her cold hand in his and offering a kiss that was the barest touch of his lips against the skin. ‘Now, with your permission, I will depart.’ He rose and smiled. ‘And with or without your permission, I will visit you again. While I am decided, I think we have more to discuss before an announcement can be made.’

  She sat down on the couch behind her, numb with shock. He left the room and she could hear him speaking to her stepmother in the hall, arranging for another visit.

  He was decided.

  What had she said to him that had made the decision? She had done everything in her power to put him off. The truth, there at the end, should have been enough to send him running from the room. She was not good enough for him. Any rumours he might have heard of her elopement were true. She was ruined.

  Yet he meant to come again. To persuade her. She felt a shudder rising from deep within her and tried to tell herself that it was revulsion. That was not true. But neither was it desire. She did not find him attractive. He was too large, too imposing and in all ways too blunt. She was not exactly frightened of him. That would be like fearing a mountain, or perhaps a cliff that one had no intention of standing on. It was more like awe, really.

  She was not used to being in awe of anyone. The glamour of a title had been tarnished to her years ago.

  And as for men?

  She removed a handkerchief from her sleeve and delicately mopped her brow. Those secrets had been stripped away as well. Men were not nearly as pleasant as they appeared. She would be quite content to do without them, if only it would be permitted.

  Veronica’s voice, as she saw the duke to the door, was light, flirtatious and sycophantic. Whatever Priss might feel on the subject, her prospective husband was a favourite of the household and she was unlikely to escape him.

  She thought of the size of him and the way he would come to her, naked, hairy as a bear, crushing her body with his weight, sweating and grunting over her as he pushed and thrust.

  There was a soft rip and she noticed that she had torn the lace on the corner of the handkerchief she’d forgotten she was holding. She would need to mend it before an explanation was required of her. There had been a time when she might have lost a hundred such linens and experienced no punishment. But that was when Dru had still been in the house and there had been no Veronica, eager to find fault with her.

  The duke was barely gone from the room when the doors to the salon burst open and her stepmother entered. ‘Well, then?’

  ‘He has offered,’ Priss affirmed glumly.

  Veronica clapped her hands together in triumph. ‘Lucky for us and far better than you deserve. I will put the announcement in The Times immediately.’

  ‘He does not wish to announce it yet,’ she said.

  ‘Then we will allow him to make that decision.’

  ‘I have not said yes.’

  Veronica was across the room in a moment, her hands in Priss’s hair to pull her gaze up to meet her. ‘Perhaps your father might permit your wilfulness, but we have seen where that led. When the time is right, you will say yes, like any sensible girl, because, my lady, in a few months there will be no space for you in this house. I will need your room for a nursery.’

  ‘There are a dozen rooms that will suit just as well,’ Priss said, glaring back at her and feeling the claws tightening against her scalp.

  ‘But I favour the light in yours,’ Veronica said with a small tight smile. ‘You will be out of this house and you will be thankful that we are sending you to such a fortunate marriage and not out into the street as you deserve. But you will not be allowed to remain here, courting further disgrace. I will not let a girl who does not have the sense to keep her legs closed associate with children of mine.’ She released Priss’s head with a jerk that cracked her neck.

  And then Veronica was smiling again. ‘Come, my dear. We will go to Bond Street and buy you a trousseau.’

  Chapter Four

  John Hendricks owned an unassuming house in an equally humble neighbourhood. Robert scolded himself for the assessment, remembering that he’d have thought no such thing before the title had foisted on him the various entailed properties in all their grandeur. There was nothing really wrong with this place, although he wondered what Lady Drusilla made of it, after living as Benbridge’s daughter.

  He knocked upon the door; when it opened, he announced himself and pushed his way past the housekeeper, tossing his gloves into his hat and giving her his most aloof ducal glare. Then he demanded to be shown to the receiving room, or whatever place was deemed best for a meeting with Mr Hendricks.

  He watched the servant melt before him with a subservient curtsy. ‘I will get him immediately, your Grace.’

  Of course she would. It was late for an uninvited call, of course. Not the thing to arrive at a man’s house without some kind of warning. But now that he was ‘his Grace’ instead of plain old Mr Magson, the rules no longer applied.

  Sometimes, he rather missed the rules. Dammit, he liked Hendricks. At least a lot more than he liked being Reighland and throwing his weight around. But today there would be no more pussyfooting about the truth. He wanted answers and he wanted them now, before his own native foolishness overcame good sense and he continued to press his suit on a girl who was showing every sign of being completely inappropriate. Even in his worst and least confident days, he’d had more sense than to chase after the leavings of other men when seeking a wife.

  ‘Your Grace?’ Hendricks stood in the doorway of his own home, offering an unironic bow as though it were he who had entered unexpectedly. ‘How might I be of assistance?’

  ‘You can leave off bowing at me, for one thing,’ Robert muttered, unable to control the impulse. ‘You might well want to bounce me out into the street when you hear why I have come. The respectful greeting will only make that more difficult.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ said Hendricks, with the faintest lift of an eyebrow. ‘But we will not know until you have made your request.’

  ‘Tell me about Benbridge’s younger daughter. And not the nonsense you were spouting at the party. I want the truth this time.’

  ‘It really is not my place—’ Hendricks began.

  ‘Yours as much as anyone else’s. I will have the story in the end. She’s already told me the more interesting half of it. The girl is no longer a maid.’

  Hendricks sucked his breath in between his teeth in a sudden hiss, but said nothing.

  ‘If the circumstances mitigate the truth, I should like to know it now. Who? When? Why? And who else knows of it? I heard rumours of an elopement with a dancing master. But I refuse to base my decisions based on tittle-tattle from gossiping old ladies. Any accurate information you can provide about Lady Priscilla will be welcome.’

  Hendricks rose and
went to the door of the sitting room, glancing into the hall to be sure that they were alone, before shutting it. ‘I would rather my wife not hear what we are discussing. It is a sensitive subject in the family as you can imagine. Dru was charged with watching the girl and feels quite responsible for anything that might have happened. And I do not know the most intimate details, of course. It was several days before we caught up with the couple. The situation might not be as dire as you make it out.’

  ‘I make nothing of it,’ Robert said. ‘It is Priscilla who seems sure of events. She should know them, if no one else does.’

  Hendricks swallowed. ‘And I can trust that, since I am speaking to the Duke of Reighland, the story will travel no further than this room.’ The statement was obvious and unnecessary. Apparently, Hendricks did not trust him to keep the secret, without reminding him that he was a gentleman. It rankled.

  He swallowed his pride, reminding himself that the man before him was near to Benbridge’s family, no matter what the old earl might think of him. Then he responded, ‘You have my word. I mean the girl no harm. But neither am I some poor gull in a country market, willing to buy a horse with bishoped teeth and piping lungs. An alliance between Benbridge and myself would be useful. But there is the succession to think of.’

  ‘You think you might still consider her a suitable choice, after knowing the truth?’ Hendricks pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as though seeking a better look at him.

  ‘I am here, aren’t I? Most men would be gone already.’ Men smarter than himself, perhaps. But he had taken a liking to her and there was no reasoning with his first impression. He was still half-hoping that Hendricks would tell him he had misheard the girl. Or that he was the victim of some horribly unfunny joke. ‘I have no real proof that Lady Priscilla will have me. Although she would be a fool to turn down the offer, she is resisting.’

  ‘Priss is not known for her foresight,’ Hendricks said drily.

  ‘Obviously.’

  ‘But if you mean to pursue her, then you shall have all I know of it.’ Hendricks moved into the room, gesturing to a chair and offering port, before taking a seat himself. It was a decent wine and a comfortable chair. Robert appreciated the gesture, which seemed sincere, and not an effort to get on his right side for some gain later. If Hendricks was the climber he appeared to be, he was subtle and not some common sycophant.

  Hendricks began. ‘Late last summer, I met Lady Drusilla Roleston in a mail coach on the way to Gretna Green. She was seeking word of her sister, who had eloped with a dancing master named Gervaise. I offered my assistance. We caught the couple before they crossed the border and I dispensed with the fellow.’

  ‘Permanently?’

  Hendricks laughed. ‘Hardly. He ran off with little encouragement, when he saw that he was more likely to come away with a beating than any money. Without guarantee of settlement, he had no real desire to take the girl for a wife.’

  ‘So there was no real affection between them?’

  ‘I cannot speak for man or girl. I can only report what I observed. Although Priss made a fuss at the time, she was over it by the next morning. It did not appear to me that either of them was broken hearted at the parting. I brought the sisters back to London safely and made my offer for Drusilla. Benbridge showed no desire to hear it. But Dru was willing, even though it meant an estrangement from her family.’

  ‘How many days was Lady Priscilla unchaperoned?’

  ‘At least three.’

  Which probably meant that the elder sister was just as compromised as the younger had been. And willing to have Hendricks to spite her father. There was a story there, he was certain. But it was no real concern of his, since it did not figure in his bid for the other girl. ‘Three days is more than enough time for mischief to be done.’

  Hendricks shrugged. ‘If a man is determined, three minutes in a drawing room is enough, even under the eyes of a chaperon.’

  Robert gave the man a stern look. ‘Not what I wished to hear from a man who had ample opportunity to be alone with my intended on the way back to London.’

  ‘But true, none the less,’ Hendricks admitted. ‘Although it was unorthodox for me to be travelling with either of them, my affections were quite firmly fixed on the other sister by the time we turned back towards the city.’

  ‘And when Priscilla returned, was it to the censure of the ton?’

  ‘There were rumours, perhaps. But nothing more than that. Without Gervaise, there were no facts to back them with. It was not the disaster it might have been, had she been both imprudent and unlucky. If she is avoiding society, it is more from her own sensitivity than fear of embarrassment.’

  Robert nodded in agreement. ‘Disgrace can be swept under the rug, if one meets it with a bold face.’ While Priscilla did not seem to be the sort to melt in the heat of society’s stare, he had hardly known her long enough to make a judgement.

  ‘Benbridge has done more to hurt the girl than she did with her own behaviour,’ Hendricks added. ‘The foolish feud he seeks with me makes it appear that Priscilla has some biological need to avoid society. But it has been nearly eight months since my marriage to Dru. From what I can tell, Priss looks just the same as she did on the day that I met her.’

  No unwanted pregnancy, then. There had been time enough to see the results of that. ‘Since that time, how has she behaved? Have you had wind of any new scandal?’

  ‘I think it is likely that Priscilla learned a hard lesson and did not need to learn it twice. As far as I am aware, there have been no further incidents. She does not appear to be embracing rebellion. Benbridge hardly lets the girl out of his sight. Her social life was much constrained, once her sister was not there to serve as escort.’

  ‘And now there is the new Lady Benbridge.’ Robert dropped the name and waited for the reaction.

  There was the faintest pursing of Hendricks’ lips, as though he had no desire to think ill of a woman who was now his wife’s stepmother. ‘Perhaps I speak from affection. But Dru was a much steadier influence and more likely to act in the best interests of her sister, although Priss did not always see it as such.’

  ‘Not as likely to hitch Priscilla to some ill-mannered stranger, just because he is a duke?’

  Hendricks looked him up and down, then, as though appraising him. And for a moment, Robert was sure that, no matter how much the man might make of a connection himself, he would choose family over rank. ‘I would think it little business of mine what the manners of the man were when he spoke to others, as long as they were good enough to suit his wife. And I would add that I wished to see Priscilla married to a man who, regardless of title, had at least a modicum of affection for her. She is far more likely to be loyal to someone who cares for her, than one who wishes to marry her father.’

  ‘And you are wondering if I am such a man?’

  ‘Perhaps I think it is time that someone wondered it. My wife is right. For all her faults, Priss deserves some happiness. She is unlikely to gain it if her father is left to choose a husband for her. If you wish the truth, then I will tell it to you: it matters not how you behave, or what Priscilla thinks of the matter. When Benbridge sees you, he will look no further than the title. After the coup of catching an earl, Lady Benbridge sees Priss as being little more than an inconvenience and will have her out of the house one way or another. If, after what you have learned today, you are not interested in pursuing this matter, then a rapid and strategic retreat is in order. Lady Benbridge will not be pleased that Priss has told you of her past to scare you off. She will trick you into dishonouring the girl, if she can make the match in no other way.’

  ‘I suspected as much. It was only confirmation I sought when coming here.’ Robert rose, setting his wine glass aside, and Hendricks followed him to his feet. ‘Should you see her, you may tell your wife
’s sister that, at this time, I have no intention of retreat. I have learned nothing that has changed my intention to make a match with Lady Priscilla. But I do not intend to force an offer on a woman who does not want me. Further study of the situation is in order. And then we shall see what we shall see.’

  Chapter Five

  ‘Priscilla, whatever am I to do with you?’ Veronica was standing in the doorway to her bedroom again, shaking her head in disapproval. ‘You knew to expect a caller, yet you have done nothing to ready yourself. You cannot greet a duke in such a shabby dress.’

  Priss had assumed that, when given the time to reflect on what she had told him, he would see his error in courting her and sever the connection. But it appeared that he was more persistent than sensible. ‘I had quite forgotten,’ she lied. ‘Tell him to return another day. Perhaps tomorrow I shall have enough time to prepare.’ She was being childish, to the point where she bored and annoyed even herself. But when man and family would not listen to a plain refusal, she was forced to use any trick she could muster.

  ‘I most certainly will not send him away.’ Veronica came to the side of the bed and hauled her upright, spilling a half-finished game of Patience off the unmade bed. ‘If you refuse to dress, then he will see you as you are now. Perhaps it will embarrass you sufficiently that we will not have this problem when he comes again tomorrow.’

  They were planning for tomorrow already? Then she had just as well let him see her in a sad state today. Until she could manage to make him see that she was not appropriate, he would stay camped out in the salon and she would have no peace at all. ‘Very well, then, I am justly punished for my lack of preparation. Let us go downstairs so that I may humiliate myself.’