Marry in Scandal

by Anne Gracie

  Elphingstone gave him a shocked look. “Gossip? Moi? Perish the thought!”

  Elphingstone was still spouting faux indignation when Ned left. Deep in thought—who the hell had spread the scandal?—he walked along Piccadilly, heading for White’s—he wanted to check that damned betting book—when he almost bumped into a lady coming out of Hatchards bookshop.

  “Watch where you’re walking, young Galbraith!”

  Startled, he looked up and came to an abrupt halt. “Lady Ampleforth? You’re in London?”

  She gave him a dry look. “A singularly foolish observation.”

  “I thought you were on your way to Hereford.”

  “Changed my mind, didn’t I? Now, if you’ve quite finished blocking my way . . .”

  He stepped back. She handed her parcels to a waiting footman and prepared to enter her carriage.

  And it hit him. He lunged forward and stopped her. “There’s a scurrilous story circulating among the ton, linking my name with that of Lady Lily Rutherford.”

  “Is there really?” Her look of mock innocence confirmed his theory.

  He frowned. “You told me you abhorred gossip!”

  Lady Ampleforth gave him a smug look. “Oh, I do.” She looked like the cat that ate the cream.

  “But you’re the source of that gossip!” He was certain now—it could be no one else.

  “Nonsense! It’s not gossip when you speak the truth. I saw you and the Rutherford gel with my own eyes, traveling together.”

  He gritted his teeth. “I explained that.”

  She gave a scornful huff.

  “And she had a chaperone with her.”

  Another huff delivered her opinion of Betty’s value as a chaperone. “If you’re finished talking nonsense, I wish to enter my carriage.”

  He didn’t budge. “Why? Why would you do this? Lady Lily is a sweet young girl who’s never harmed a soul in her life.”

  “No doubt she is,” she said carelessly. “I doubt I’ve ever spoken to the gel.”

  “Then why would you try to ruin her reputation.”

  “Try?” There was a world of meaning in the way she said it.

  Ned narrowed his eyes. “You mean you wanted to ruin her?”

  She shrugged. “It’s nothing to do with the gel herself. She merely gave me the opportunity.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “She is Aggie Rutherford’s—Lady Salter she is now—niece. Aggie Rutherford! She holds herself so high—always has, ever since she was a gel—looking down on the rest of us and thinking she’s soooo perfect!” She gave a self-satisfied smile. “And now we have a scandal involving her precious family—and, oh, how the mighty are fallen. I trust dear Aggie is squirming as much as I hoped she would.” She pushed past him and climbed into her barouche.

  Shocked by the vitriol in her voice, Ned watched her fussily arrange herself. To ruin Lily for the sake of some ancient feud with Lily’s aunt . . .

  “You vicious old trout! If you were a man . . .”

  She laughed. “Words, words, words. Sticks and stones, they used to tell me.” She smiled. “But words can hurt after all, can’t they, young Galbraith? Coachman, drive on.”

  Fuming, Ned watched her drive off. He’d never taken much notice of the old lady before, but she’d always seemed pleasant enough. Did his grandfather know she was such a spiteful old cat? If not, he’d enlighten the old man when next he came to London.

  He continued on to White’s, where he greeted a couple of friends and acquaintances with the appearance of cool insouciance. He chatted of this and that, and then, aware of the covert interest of several members, he wandered over to the betting book and scanned it in a casual manner. There were the entries Elphingstone had mentioned, linking his name and Lily’s—Mr. E.G. and Lady L.—with bets made on a variety of possible outcomes. He swore under his breath.

  He left White’s and went straight to Jackson’s Boxing Saloon, where he burned off some of his rage and frustration in a couple of fast and furious bouts. All the time his fists were flying, his thoughts were turning over and over, looking for a way out—for both of them.

  He was all wrong for her. She was all wrong for him.

  He thought of the whispers, the sly looks, the cunning innuendoes she would face; he recalled the smugness of that malicious, gossiping old bat, and the entries in the betting book. The reputation of an innocent young girl, so easily and carelessly ruined.

  If it were anyone else but Lily . . .

  Why couldn’t the woman he’d rescued and accidentally compromised be older, plainer, more experienced, more self-reliant; the kind of woman he’d taken as a mistress from time to time. The sort of woman who wanted nothing more from him than his body, and occasionally his company. And usually his money.

  Lily would want . . . so much more. The kinds of things he didn’t have in him to give.

  He wasn’t opposed to marriage. He’d gotten almost as far as the altar last year with a woman who was all the things he required in a wife—she didn’t even like him much.

  But Lily. Lily dreamed of love. He could see the swirling echoes of those dreams in her eyes whenever she looked up at him.

  His fault, for kissing her. For rescuing her.

  Lord knew what kind of man she imagined him to be. All he knew was that he wasn’t that man, could never be that man.

  Oh, he presented well enough from the outside, and he had a name and position and wealth enough to keep a wife in comfort and style. But inside . . . inside he was a husk of a man, unfit to marry any sweet and dreamy young woman.

  But they were trapped in a scandal not of their own making, and Ned had been born and raised a gentleman; he had no option but to offer marriage.

  He left Jackson’s and returned to his lodgings, where he bathed, shaved and changed his clothes. Time to call on Cal Rutherford.

  Chapter Eleven

  Oh, Lizzy! do anything rather than marry without affection.

  —JANE AUSTEN, PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

  Ned reached Ashendon House, adjusted his neckcloth, which had become unaccountably tight, took a deep breath and rang the front doorbell.

  The butler informed him Lord Ashendon was at home, and ushered Ned into the front sitting room where Cal was reading the Morning Post. Ned didn’t waste time in social chitchat. The moment the door closed behind the butler, he said, “Rumors are rife about your sister and me.”

  “I know. Drink?” Cal folded the paper and set it aside.

  “No, thank you. She’s on the verge of social ruin.”

  “So my aunt, Lady Salter, tells us.”

  “Then you know why I’ve come.”

  Cal waved him to a seat. “Suppose you tell me.”

  Wasn’t it obvious? “To make an offer for your sister, of course.” Ned made no attempt to sit. He was too wound up. He took a position in front of the fireplace.

  Cal steepled his fingers together and regarded Ned thoughtfully. “It’s very decent of you, of course, but I’m not convinced marriage to you is the answer.”

  Ned stiffened. Having nerved himself to bite the bullet, to do the honorable thing despite all his doubts and misgivings, it was a shock to hear his offer treated so casually. It was one thing for him to worry that he wasn’t the man for Lily; it was quite another for her brother to imply the same. “Why not? In some circles I’m held to be quite a good match.”

  “In some circles, yes. In others you’re regarded as a rake and something of a cold fish.”

  A reputation he’d deliberately cultivated, which had now come back to bite him. “And which is your view?”

  Cal shrugged “It’s not about me. As far as I’m concerned you’re a good friend and were a fine soldier. But my little sister is something else. She’s . . . special.”

  Did Cal think he didn’t know t
hat? “Do you doubt I’d take care of her?”

  “Materially, physically, I’m sure you will. But Lily has a tender heart. Even apart from your rakish tendencies, it wasn’t so long ago you were preparing to marry a woman you barely even liked.”

  “That was different.”

  “Was it? Then it was your grandfather forcing your hand. Now it’s society. Not much different from where I’m sitting.”

  “Dammit, Cal, Lady Lily is nothing like—like that other girl.”

  “Forgotten her name already, have you?” Cal was too damn acute. “And what was it you said to me back then? ‘All cats are gray in the dark’?”

  It had been a stupid thing to say back then, a bit of bravado from an unwilling bridegroom, but Ned wouldn’t admit it. He shrugged. “Yes, but you don’t like cats. I do.” Another stupid thing to say, and he could see Cal was getting annoyed. So was he.

  “Lily is different. She’s soft, and vulnerable. Dreamy. I don’t want her hurt.”

  “And you think I’d hurt her?”

  Cal met his gaze coolly. “Not deliberately.”

  “So what would you have me do? Walk away and let her face the slings and arrows of the ton alone? Damned if I will.” Ned’s hands were turning into fists. He shoved them into his pockets.

  The ton was abuzz with rumors, and the wagers in the betting book at White’s only underlined them. Marriage was the obvious, the only way out. What the hell was Cal thinking to treat his offer so lightly? All very well for him to talk of protecting Lily; by the looks of things he was preparing to throw her to the lions.

  Cal ran a hand over his jaw and said ruefully, “I don’t know what to do, and that’s the hell of it. If it were up to me . . . You’re a good fellow, and you mean well, I know, but the women of my family are unanimous in opposing Lily’s marriage to you. The exception being Aunt Agatha, who simply wants the gossip silenced and would happily marry Lily to a troll, as long as he was well born and rich.”

  Unanimous in opposing the marriage? Did that include Lily?

  “You’ve discussed it already, when I haven’t even proposed?”

  Cal gave a sardonic half smile. “Where Aunt Agatha is concerned I’m not sure your views even come into it. She informed Lily yesterday that she had no alternative but to marry you.”

  Ned tensed. “And what did Lily say?”

  “Not much. But the others made their views very clear. They are determined to prevent Lily from being forced into marriage with a man she hardly knows. And does not love.”

  It was exactly what he’d been thinking himself, so why should Cal’s words annoy him so much? But they did. “Women are ruled by emotion. It’s your decision as head of the family, is it not?”

  Cal snorted. “There speaks the carefree—and ignorant—bachelor. On such things my wife and the girls have very strong opinions—and I can see their point. My own marriage was quite unpromising at the start, but . . . Well, suffice it to say that having found unexpected felicity in marriage, I want the same for my sister.” He rose. “I’ll let you make her your offer, and then, depending on her answer, the family will decide how to handle this mess.” He moved toward the door but before he reached it, it opened and Lady Ashendon entered.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, my dear, I didn’t realize you were engaged,” she said coolly. Ned took leave to doubt that. He was quite certain she knew exactly what had been going on.

  “Mr. Galbraith, how do you do? So good of you to call on us. I was expecting you last week.” There was a hint of reproof in her voice; this was not the warm and grateful woman he’d encountered when he’d brought Lily home.

  Cal gave her a significant look. “Mr. Galbraith has come to pay a call on Lily.”

  “Of course. Please be seated.” She arranged herself on the sofa and patted the seat beside her. Cal took it. She angled a cool glance at Ned and, recollecting she’d been a schoolmistress, he sat on a chair opposite.

  “You have come to make Lily an offer.” It wasn’t a question.

  “I have.”

  She nodded. “We have been considering the possibility—and our choices.”

  He raised a brow. “Indeed.” As far as he was concerned there wasn’t a choice.

  “I’ve already—” Cal began. She slid her hand into her husband’s and he didn’t finish his sentence.

  “There is no need for you and Lily to be forced into a marriage, Mr. Galbraith. The scandal was none of your making, and you are both innocent of any wrongdoing.”

  Ned watched as Cal stroked his thumb back and forth over his wife’s hand. A small, barely noticeable movement—neither of them even seemed aware of the quiet caress; it was something they both took for granted—and yet watching it, watching them, caused a strange hollowness in Ned’s chest.

  She continued, “Indeed, you behaved quite heroically in saving her from an appalling fate, and we very much appreciate your honorable motives in being prepared to offer marriage to her.” Her smile warmed. “But there is no need for such a sacrifice.”

  “Sacrifice?”

  “On both your parts. If no scandal had arisen, would you be here now, preparing to make my sister-in-law an offer?”

  “No, but—”

  “Exactly. A scandal is temporary, but marriage is for a lifetime. We are Lily’s family and we will ride this scandal out together. To be sure there will be some initial unpleasantness, but that will eventually fade. Lily is an earl’s daughter with a handsome fortune. There will be gentlemen a-plenty willing to overlook a whiff of scandal for the sake of marriage with a titled heiress. So there’s no need for you to concern yourself any further.”

  It was a clear dismissal, and he should have been relieved. Instead he was angry. This was the second time members of the Rutherford family had told him that Lily was none of his business, that he should take himself off and forget about it, about her.

  But they were the ones who had let her be abducted in the first place. He was the one who’d saved her and brought her home. And he was not to be dismissed with a pat on the head, like a schoolboy returning a stray puppy.

  “How?” he asked. Lady Ashendon paused in the middle of rising, and Ned repeated his question, “How do you intend to ride out the scandal? What exactly are your plans?”

  She settled back on the sofa. “Since the rumors are contradictory, and there were no actual witnesses, we shall simply ignore it and go on as usual. Eventually some other scandal will occur and the ton’s attention will move on.”

  “And in the meantime, Lily must simply endure being gossiped about until it dies down? Not acceptable.” He folded his arms. “Besides, there was a witness, one that the ton will not doubt. Lady Ampleforth saw us traveling together.”

  Cal swore. His wife glanced at him. “Lady Ampleforth?”

  “Aunt Agatha’s greatest rival.”

  “I confronted her earlier,” Ned said. “She has seized on it as a way of paying your aunt back for some ancient insult and is, quite gleefully, doing her best to keep the rumor alive. Short of a bullet, you won’t shut her up.” He rose to his feet. “So enough of this nonsense. Perhaps you would allow me to speak to Lily now.” Lady Ashendon opened her mouth to speak and he held up a hand. “I don’t need you to tell me I’m not worthy of her—believe me, I know it—but I can and will protect her from a scandal she does not deserve.”

  “And after that?” Lady Ashendon asked. “When you are husband and wife?”

  “After that . . .” He wasn’t prepared to give false assurances. He swallowed. “After that I shall support her as any man does his wife.”

  There was a short silence as everyone in the room considered the inadequacy of that statement. Lady Ashendon spoke first. “And what if she refuses you?”

  “It is her right. I won’t try to force her. But whether her answer is yea or nay, know this—I won’t walk away an
d leave her to face the scandal alone.”

  Lady Ashendon regarded him thoughtfully for a long moment. Then she gave a brisk nod. “Very well, Mr. Galbraith, Lily will be down in a moment.” She put her hand out and Cal helped her to rise. As she did, her dress pulled briefly tight across her belly.

  She was in the family way, Ned saw. Probably why Cal allowed his wife so much license.

  As Cal opened the door for her, Ned thought of something. “Cal, before you go—”

  Cal turned.

  “Any news of Nixon?”

  Cal shook his head. “But I’ll get him, don’t you worry.” The door closed quietly behind him.

  * * *

  • • •

  Ned paced back and forth in front of the fireplace. For the second time in his life he was about to offer marriage. He wished now that he’d accepted that drink from Cal. He was ridiculously nervous.

  He went over in his mind the words he would use to make the offer. He wanted her to be clear what he was offering—no false promises, no raising of impossible and unlikely expectations.

  A girl who’d always wanted to marry for love. A dreamer. And himself a cold, hard cynic.

  Love was an ephemeral thing, impossible to pin down, impossible to promise.

  Lily was a girl who treasured illusions, about life, about love. About him.

  Dangerous things, illusions.

  He swallowed. He would have to shatter her expectations immediately, before her illusions about him could grow any further. Small illusions, nipped early in the bud, would be much less painful for a girl who dreamed.

  He was determined that if she accepted him—and her sister-in-law had planted doubts in him now, that she might refuse, and if so—no, he would not consider that possibility. If she accepted him, she needed to understand that the marriage was for purely practical reasons—a marriage of convenience—to stop scandal, to protect her reputation. And for an heir.

  After the wedding, they would continue on in the same vein—in a practical marriage. He would take good care of her and support her in the manner to which she was accustomed, and that would be that.