Scandal

by Heather Cullman

  Julia hugged her back. "I have missed you too, dear."

  Helene came forward then to give Julia a dutiful hug, while Mina turned to Gideon. Flushing a blotchy pink that perfectly matched the three spots on her chin, she stammered, "It is wonderful to see you again, too, Mr. Harwood."

  Gideon smiled and inclined his head. "The pleasure is all mine, Lady Mina. But do call me Gideon. Julia speaks of you so often and with such fondness that I have begun to view you as a member of our family."

  Mina's blush deepened. "Gideon, yes, and you must call me Mina." She could not have looked more flattered.

  "Mr. Harwood." This was from Lady Helene, who rudely pushed Mina aside and now stood in front of her, gracing him with a simpering smile.

  "Lady Helene," he responded in like insincere coin.

  She continued to gaze at him expectantly, clearly waiting for him to lavish her with the same sort of pretty welcome he had given Mina, no doubt believing it to be her God-given due as the toast of the ton. When he merely turned his attention to her mother, who Julia was formally welcoming to their home, the disagreeable chit sniffed and turned away.

  As he watched the Duchess of Hunsderry, he could not help wondering at the titled bucks who so eagerly thronged around Helene at every gathering. One glance at her mother would have been more than enough to put him off the chit forever. As it was, he could barely keep from grimacing his distaste at the sight of the hideous creature. With her obviously dyed black hair, thickly pasted pockmarked skin, and overly rouged cheeks and lips, Her Grace truly was a horror to behold.

  Well, at least to his eyes. The ton, however, seemed to find her quite elegant. Then again, they considered anyone with plump pockets and a title to be the height of elegance. Nonetheless, there was one opinion he held that he doubted anyone in the ton would dispute. And that was that Her Grace had an overly sharp tongue, which she wielded as a weapon to bring about the downfall of anyone who did not meet with her exacting, if rather arbitrary, standards. At the moment she was using that tongue to take Julia to task for allowing Jemima to run about like a hoyden.

  "Really, Julia! I cannot even begin to imagine what could be going through your mind to allow the girl such liberties. You know what they say: an ungoverned child will grow into an unprincipled adult. My dearest Helene was allowed only an hour of play each day, and then only under the strictest supervision to ensure that she did not engage in unseemly activity, such as running and making unnecessary noise. And just see how splendidly she turned out. Lord Shepley, on the other hand, allowed Amy to run willy-nilly and to go her own way in matters that the chit had no business whatsoever in deciding for herself, and just see-"

  "What an enchanting creature she has turned out to be," Gideon smoothly inserted, not about to allow the odious woman to insult someone Julia counted as a bosom bow. "You are correct in that Lady Amy is a stellar example of womanhood, Your Grace. Indeed, aside from my wife and Lady Mina, I count her as quite the most charming girl in the ton."

  Helene sniffed at being omitted from his compliment, an annoying sound that was echoed by Her Grace as she lifted her spectacles from where they dangled against her bony chest on a gold chain. Fixing him with a condescending stare through the thick lenses, she sneered, "Yes, well, I daresay that you would find her so, Mr. Harwood."

  Gideon nodded and smiled, deliberately misunderstanding her slur. "Thank you, Your Grace. You do not know how much it means to me to be acknowledged as a fine judge of character by a paragon such as yourself." He could not have sounded more fawning.

  Julia and Bethany, who now stood behind the awful woman, clapped their hands over their mouths to stifle their guffaws, while Bliss emitted a loud snort. Poor Mina merely looked confused.

  The duchess opened her mouth, no doubt to have another go at taking him down a few pegs, but he cut her off before she could speak by quizzing, "By the by, Your Grace, to what do we owe the pleasure of your company?"

  For a moment it looked as if she might ignore his inquiry and proceed with her setdown, then she seemed to think better of it and dropped her spectacles back into place.

  "The cream of the ton was invited to Lord Waddington's lodge in Westmorland for a hunting party, but the place turned out to be so barbaric that Helene and I simply could not stay." She sniffed her disdain. "How his lordship could expect ladies of quality to suffer such abominably crude accommodations, I do not know." Another sniff, this one more contemptuous than the last. "At any rate, His Grace elected to stay and kill things with the rest of the gentlemen, so Helene and I were forced to return home alone."

  "And our dearest Mina," Gideon interjected, infuriated at the woman's insistence on dismissing the girl as if she did not exist.

  When Her Grace sniffed again, he was tempted to offer her his handkerchief, as he had once done with Julia. "Yes, even Mina could not be expected to endure such wretched conditions." She heaved a much-put-upon sigh and shook her head. "Since we are three helpless women traveling alone, we have decided that it would be best to spend our nights at acquaintances' country houses whenever possible. After all, a beauty such as Helene is bound to excite interest at inns, which puts her at risk to suffer advances from the common ruffians that frequent such places. Your house happens to be on our route, so . . ." she finished the sentence with a shrug.

  Gideon smiled and inclined his head in what would normally denote a gracious acceptance of her explanation. "But of course you are welcome here, Your Grace." He paused to slant Julia a sardonic look. "Heaven knows we would not want your darling Helene to become the target of some dreadful commoner's primitive urges."

  "Yes, and a pinch of cinnamon would do wonders in improving your cook's recipe for bread pudding," the Duchess of Hunsderry said, scraping her plate with her fork to scoop up the last of the dessert she had spent the past fifteen minutes maligning. "My cooks have always benefited immensely from my advice, or so my friends tell me, so you would be wise to heed it as well, Julia, dear, and pass it on to your cook."

  Gideon, who had spent the past two hours listening to the harridan criticize everything about her dinner, from the weight of the silver to the rise on the bread, feigned a pleasant smile and inquired, "Have you had a great many cooks to advise, Your Grace?"

  She sniffed. "Seven in the past two years, ungrateful wretches! They stay only long enough to benefit from my culinary wisdom and then leave."

  Gideon suspected that they left out of annoyance at Her Grace's caviling, but he kept his opinion to himself out of respect for Julia. For all that she claimed not to care for Her Grace's opinion, she had been born and bred to be a part of the ton. They were her circle. Her friends. And to be cast from their company could not help but to cause her anguish, and he would rather be damned than see her hurt. Thus he contented himself with wryly commenting. "Such gross ingratitude makes one wonder at the state of the world, does it not?"

  "Indeed it does," the duchess agreed, her words punctuated by a soft belch. Having now all but scraped the delicate Oriental pattern off the china plate before her, she set down her spoon, adding, "I noticed that you have a reasonably fine pianoforte in one of your drawing rooms. Perhaps Mina and Bethany can amuse themselves with music while the four of us play cards." She lifted her spectacles to eye Bethany with a look of condescending query. "I assume that you have had some instruction in music, Bethany?"

  Bethany, who was chatting companionably with Mina, while Helene sat pouting on her other side over the lack of fawning being directed toward her, looked up to respond. Before she could speak, Gideon answered for her. "My sister has a talent for both singing and the pianoforte, and is quite proficient on the harp as well. Since I have had the honor of hearing Mina play the pianoforte on several occasions, which she does quite charmingly"-he smiled at Mina, who in truth possessed only modest musical talent- "perhaps she and Bethany will honor us with a harp and pianoforte duet?"

  Mina flushed, visibly thrilled by his praise. "B-but of course, sir. It would be a p-pleas
ure," she stammered, while Bethany smiled and nodded in agreement.

  The duchess shrugged. "I daresay that their efforts would be vastly improved by the addition of my dear Helene's singing, but alas, we cannot spare her if we are to play cards."

  "I shall be perfectly amenable to forgoing our card game if Helene would prefer to sing. Indeed, Helene possesses such a lovely voice that it would be a treat to hear her," Julia said. She smiled at Helene, who instantly brightened at the compliment.

  Gideon smiled as well. The sly minx! It was obvious to him that she sought not musical entertainment, but an excuse to escape yet more of Her Grace's tedious conversation.

  "Pshaw, Julia!" Her Grace scoffed. "Do not tell me that you harbor the same prejudice against cards as your mother?"

  Julia drew back, frowning. "Pardon?"

  Gideon cringed inside as he waited for the other shoe to drop. Bloody hell! What had Lord Stanwell been thinking to invent a lie that could be so easily uncovered through casual conversation? But, of course, the answer was obvious: In his desperation to squirm out of his predicament, the bastard had not bothered to fully consider his story.

  "Why surely you know of your mother's low opinion of cards and gambling?" Her Grace replied, lifting her spectacles again, this time to peer at Julia with an air of quizzical superiority.

  "No," Julia admitted. She could not have looked more nonplussed.

  The duchess sniffed and lowered her spectacles. "How very odd that you should not know such a thing about your own mother, especially when you have been in the ton for so long. Then again, you have never had the close sort of relationship with your mother that Helene and I share, so I suppose that your ignorance should come as no surprise." She shrugged, another belch escaping her as she did so. "At any rate, I must say that I have always considered your mother's steadfast refusal to engage in wagering to be rather poor form. Bad ton, frankly. And were she not such a spendthrift in other regards, I would be forced to suspect her of cheeseparing."

  Julia was staring at him now, her eyes full of the questions he knew must be running through her mind. Damn it to hell! Why did this have to come about now, when their love was so new? Why could it not have happened several years down the road, when they were settled in their life together and secure in their marriage? Feigning interest in his dessert to avoid meeting Julia's gaze, Gideon wondered what he could possibly say to her to explain the matter. The truth was out of the question, of course. He would not wound her in such a manner.

  "Are you saying that you have never known my mother to gamble?" Julia inquired. Her eyes were now boring holes in him.

  Another sniff from Her Grace. "Never. Even your father is rather less inclined to gamble than most men. Indeed, I cannot recall him ever wagering more than a few pounds."

  "How very interesting," Julia murmured, her soft voice pregnant with a meaning that only Gideon could understand.

  Uttering a silent oath, the foulest one he knew, Gideon forced himself to glance up at Julia, knowing that to further evade her gaze would serve only to mark his guilt. Her head was tipped to one side and she was staring at him with a look of bewildered suspicion. The instant their gazes touched, her eyebrows lifted in mute query.

  He grimaced and shrugged one shoulder, hoping that she would take the gesture as a plea of ignorance. Determined to cut the damning conversation short, he glanced at their guests, smoothly suggesting, "Shall we retire to the drawing room, ladies? I can assure you, Your Grace, that I have no prejudice whatsoever against gambling and will gladly engage you in a friendly wager." Praying that in branding himself a gambler he might put Julia off, he rose.

  As the rest of the party followed suit, Julia said, "Bethany, do be a dear and show our guests to the Blue drawing room. Gideon and I will join you shortly." She shifted her gaze to him, her expression conveying that she would brook no argument from him.

  Gideon nodded, his gut giving a sickening wrench at what awaited him. Good God, what was he going to tell her?

  The door had no sooner closed than Julia rounded on him demanding, "The truth, Gideon. I will know the real reason why my father insisted that I wed you."

  "What makes you so certain that what your father told you is not the truth?" he countered, nimbly dodging her question.

  "Because Her Grace has neither the wit nor the imagination to make up such a thing about my mother. Besides, now that I consider the matter, I truly cannot recall my mother ever retiring to the card table at any gathering." She shook her head, her expression mulish. "No, Gideon. It is clear that my father lied about his reason for forcing me to wed you, and I will have the truth now."

  "Has it never occurred to you that your mother might not like the Dunvilles any more than we do. and that she has sought to escape Her Grace's company by refusing to game with her? As for whether or not she indulges in cards at gatherings, how can you honestly claim to know that she abstains? From what I have observed, you are far too occupied with dancing and being fawned over by your admirers to possibly mark anyone else's actions."

  Another head shake. "Perhaps I could accept those explanations if the rest of my father's story made sense, but it does not. It has not for a long while now, not since I have discovered what a fine man you are. You, Gideon Harwood, are far too noble to ever be guilty of cheating and blackmail. Please do not insult me by trying to convince me that he told the truth." She was inching toward him now. "So tell me: why did my father force me to wed you?"

  Gideon frantically searched his mind for a response, one that would satisfy her. The best he could find was, "Has it never occurred to you that this might be a private matter between your father and me? One that you have no business in knowing?"

  "It became my business when I was forced to wed you, Gideon. Can you not see that?" Now stopping before him, she grasped his arms to stare beseechingly up into his face.

  "I love you, Gideon. More than I ever dreamed I could love anyone, and not a day goes by that I do not thank heaven for the good fortune to be your wife. And yet, what kind of a marriage do we truly have if you will not confide in me? How am I to believe anything you might say in the future if we have this lie between us?" Her hands tightened on his arms. "Gideon, if you cannot trust me enough to tell me the truth in this, then I shall be forced to conclude that our love is a lie. And I cannot live in a marriage built of lies."

  Gideon stared down at her, stunned by her words. "Are you saying that you will leave me if I do not tell you?" Was that really his voice, so hoarse and frayed?

  She nodded once, then let go of his arms and stepped away. "I shall have no choice but to leave Critchley Manor. I do not know where I will go or what I shall do, but anything will be better than staying with you." When she met his gaze again, he saw that her eyes were bright with gathering tears. "You see, Gideon, if I stay I shall never have the strength to keep myself from you, for I love you too much to do so. And then I will be forced to despise myself. So it is better that I leave and starve, than stay and be stripped of all self-respect."

  Gideon felt the blood drain from his face, devastated by the thought of losing her. And yet, how could he tell her the truth when it would surely destroy her?

  How could he not tell her, given the choice?

  True, he could create a new lie, a clever one that would explain everything quite neatly and spare her all pain. But would that not simply widen the web of deception between them, one in which he might someday find himself caught? And if he were caught in a lie a second time, she would leave him for certain and never return. Besides, she was right. What kind of a marriage could they possibly have if it were built on lies?

  Suddenly tired, more world-weary than he had ever been in his life, Gideon admitted that they could have no marriage, not without a foundation of truth to build it on.

  "Gideon, please. I love you so much," she pleaded. Rising up on her tiptoes to take his face in her hands, she gazed deeply into his eyes, whispering, "Gideon, if you have done something that shames y
ou and you are afraid to tell me for fear that I will despise you, please know that there is little on this earth that could shake my love for you. Whatever it is, we shall work it out. I promise." She rose higher and pressed a kiss to his lips.

  That kiss, coupled with the sweetness of her plea, undid him. For all that he hated the thought of hurting her, he had no choice. Besides, it was possible that she might someday learn the truth for herself if she dug deeply enough for it, which knowing his Julia's tenacity, she very well might do. At least if he told her himself, he would be on hand to help her come to terms with the fact that she and her siblings were bastards, and would remain so under the current laws of England, in spite of the fact that her father was now legally wed to her mother.

  Resigning himself to his terrible duty, Gideon sighed. "All right, Julia. You want the truth, so you shall have it. I know that this is going to be difficult for you to hear, but-"

  At that moment two footmen entered the room to clear the table. Nodding cordially at them, Gideon grasped Julia's arm and pulled her from the room. Nodding again, this time at the majordomo and housekeeper, who conversed at the end of the hall, he escorted her into the small antechamber next door.

  Now alone again, he said, "I suggest you sit, Julia."

  There must have been something in his face that told her that what he had to say was very bad indeed, because she did as he advised without question. When she had settled into one of the dainty straight-back chairs set against the wall, he kneeled before her, taking both her hands in his. Holding them tightly, prepared to pull her into his arms and comfort her, he told her the truth. By the time he had finished, her face had blanched to the color of ash and silent tears coursed down her cheeks.

  "Julia, sweetheart," he whispered, when she simply sat there staring at him with wet, haunted eyes. "It will be all right. I swear it."

  A great, rending sob ripped from her chest. "No, Gideon. Nothing shall ever be right again. I am a bastard and so are my siblings. Should anyone ever learn the truth--" She broke completely then, weeping as if her heart would break.