The Bride Wore Scandal

by Helen Dickson

  ‘Were I a man you would not smirk so easily.’

  He cocked a brow and chuckled unmercifully at her. ‘Were you a man, my dear Christina, I would surely have demanded satisfaction from you already for what you have put me through.’

  Christina’s blush deepened. Infuriated and seething with anger and humiliation, with a sudden burst of pride and energy, she wrenched herself free from his arms. Fortunately they were on the edge of the crowded dance floor and no one appeared to notice the heated altercation between them.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she hissed. ‘This is one dance that goes on too long for my liking.’

  Spinning on her heel, she strode away from him, pushing her way past those who got in her way. Trembling with fury and feeling a need to calm down and compose herself before she faced her aunt, she stepped through a door on to a small balcony, gripping the stone balustrade with trembling hands. Suddenly she stiffened when she sensed someone behind her.

  ‘You cannot escape me so easily, Christina,’ Simon said calmly. ‘I am not so easily got rid of—as you must have realised on our last encounter.’

  Christina’s face turned ashen under the careless remark, and she swayed on her feet, feeling faint. Simon steadied her by placing his hand under her elbow and turned her to face him. Placing a finger under her chin, he raised it so he could gaze down into her eyes.

  ‘You do remember, don’t you?’

  Christina stared at him. She felt all the warm and passionate memories well up in her and at the same time sadness, for dearly as she wanted to tell him she would never forget, that it was the most wonderful thing that had happened to her in her life, that she was only his and ready to obey him, that he could take her, to subjugate her—indeed, to do anything he cared to do to her—she was so unsure of his feelings and what it had meant to him that her pride would not allow her to reveal how she felt.

  ‘Remember?’ she bit back, jerking her chin away from his finger, her anger giving virulence to her tongue. ‘Yes I remember everything. I remember how I let you take advantage of me,’ she said furiously, remembering how she had enjoyed the things he had done to her, revelled in it before she had known he did not feel anything for her. Now, more than ever, she needed her forceful personality to keep her sane in what was to come. ‘You have made it impossible for me to forget.’ She found his sudden smile infuriating.

  ‘I do seem to have a lasting effect on the ladies I make love to.’

  ‘Don’t flatter yourself, Simon Rockley. Don’t you think I would forget what you did to me if I could? What you did was the most terrible thing that a man could do to an unmarried woman. It took me far beyond the safe bounds of carnal knowledge that has so carefully sheltered my life.’

  He shrugged casually and raised a brow enquiringly. ‘What are you talking about? Such anger is quite unnecessary. You look pale. Are you unwell?’

  ‘If I am,’ she flared, ‘it’s your fault.’

  His body tensed, his jaw tightened and his eyes grew cold. ‘My fault? How is it my fault?’

  ‘I am to bear your child.’ Christina threw it at him. She had not intended telling him like this, but he had got her so worked up. ‘Small wonder the ladies you associate with can’t forget what you do to them if you impregnate them the first time you take them to bed.’

  Simon’s face became thoughtful, his eyes narrowed speculatively. ‘How long have you known?’ He stood straight, his hands behind him, his face impassive—the expression he normally used to shield his thoughts when troubled or angry. A muscle began to twitch in his cheek.

  Christina found the dead calm of his demeanour to be more threatening than any display of anger. ‘A-about a month,’ she stammered.

  ‘I see.’

  ‘And don’t you dare try wriggling out of it,’ she flared, her eyes blazing at him. ‘Never doubt that you are the father. You accused me of being Mark’s mistress, which was not the case. You mistook what you saw at the Black Swan—in fact, before you arrived I had been fighting for my very life. I was never his mistress and it was insulting of you to assume I was.’

  ‘I know.’

  She gave him a dubious stare. ‘You do? How?’

  ‘Men know these things. I have no doubt that you were a virgin when I made love to you, Christina. None whatsoever.’

  Simon’s mouth sat in a bitter line, his black brows drawn in a straight bar across his eyes as he turned from her and fell into a brooding silence. When he had made love to her, initially she had fought him like a tigress, but she had surrendered like an angel, kissing him with such sweet, desperate ardour that had twisted him into knots of desire. If she was indeed with child, then he must accept that it was his and do the honourable thing and make her his wife.

  The possibility that she might refuse was beyond the bounds of feasibility in his estimation. Parading before his eyes were visions of a bewitching girl lying in his arms, kissing him. He was well aware that her feelings for him were deeper than even she knew. She could not have given herself to him so completely if that weren’t so. She was too sweet and innocent to feign those emotions. And yet he remained uneasy about her association with Bucklow—enough to make him doubt her.

  He turned and looked at her lovely, frightened face. From the very beginning he had taken her reluctance to speak of that murdering scoundrel as a deliberate attempt to obstruct him in carrying out his investigations, and he still didn’t know the reason why she had been in his bedchamber at the Black Swan that day. He recalled how he had felt when he had seen her in Bucklow’s arms, and how, when she had pleaded with him not to shoot him, his heart had slammed into his ribs so hard it hurt. Feeling as he did, could he make her his wife? Would it be foolish to trust her in case he was deceived? And yet, since she was carrying his child, he was duty bound to do the honourable thing by her.

  ‘I take full responsibility for what happened, Christina,’ he uttered brusquely. ‘You need not fear for your future.’

  As she had watched him, fleetingly he had dropped his mask. The doubt was there, etched plain in the lines of his face. She felt an uneasy disquiet setting in. ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘That we will be married immediately.’

  Christina could not quite believe what she was hearing. He sounded so dispassionate, she was not quite sure if she had received a proposal of marriage or a comment about some inconsequential issue of the day. ‘I see.’ She took a deep breath. ‘And you are quite sure that you want to marry me, are you, Simon?’

  ‘These are not the most romantic circumstances under which to propose, and I am more than likely wounding you by discussing the arrangements in such a blunt way, but we have no choice.’

  A lump of nameless emotion constricted her throat. He was treating her as if there had been nothing between them, as if they had never shared the intense passion between a man and a woman. ‘That was not what I asked you.’

  ‘My feelings have no bearing on this.’ For the first time in his life Simon was finding it difficult to tell a woman—this woman—that she was the most alluring and as desirable as any he had ever known. Even now, when the consequences of his actions were so grave, he wanted her. She had become a passion to him, a beautiful, vibrant woman, and he had hurt her very badly. ‘You are to bear a child—my child, as it happens—so we must marry. There is nothing else to be done.’

  ‘Yes, there is. I don’t have to marry you, and it is arrogant of you to assume that I would accept you. You speak as if I have no control over any of this. Well, I have. I am not making you do anything—just like the last time we were together, when you forced yourself on me. I am still hurting from that, and I will not chain myself to a man for the rest of my life who does not love me. I agree that marriage is the accepted mode in situations such as this, but where I am concerned I do not consider it necessary for us to marry.’

  Simon looked at her with that straight, disconcerting gaze of his. The line of his lips was grim and hard. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. You must be aware of
the stigma attached to an illegitimate child, that it will be an object for censure and ridicule throughout its life. Think about it. A woman alone with an illegitimate child is prey to the pitilessness of society.’

  ‘I know. A harsh society that believes the sin is all the woman’s, that she is to blame for being in the condition she has brought on herself and that the child, as well as herself, must be shunned lest it contaminates them—while the man who is to blame walks away without a blemish on his name. That said, Simon, I will not allow my destiny or that of my child to be dictated by circumstance, society or you.’

  Simon looked at her hard. The expression on his face was difficult to read, but some new darkness seemed to move at the back of his eyes. ‘I appreciate the wrong I have done you, Christina, but that does not alter my obligation. We will be married as soon as arrangements can be made, for I will not compound my wrong by abandoning my honour and my duty. It takes two to make a child, and you and I made the one you are carrying together.’

  Christina pulled herself erect with as much composure as her shaking limbs would allow, but the silver-grey eyes meeting hers gave her no reassurance. She could have faced the blows from his hands better than the furious intensity of his gaze. She raised her head high, refusing to let him see her wretchedness.

  ‘I know, but you went away. After you left me like that—alone and confused—to deal with what had happened, I could never be sure how you are feeling. So you see, after this I am having second thoughts about wanting you to be the father of my child.’

  His expression changed, becoming harder still, and his voice changed also. It was clearly full of fury, his tone deadly quiet. ‘What you want, Christina, is irrelevant. I am the father of your child, so let that be an end to it. It might not have been conceived in the kind of circumstances I would have liked, but I will use every means at my disposal to keep its reputation untarnished.’’

  There was a silence. She looked away from him, now afraid, so terribly afraid that they had reached that point at which everything between them would be finished. Brusquely, she turned and went to the door, where she turned and looked back at him. His dark hair gleamed in the soft light as he moved his head, and as he looked across at her, there was a film of quick emotion across his eyes. Suddenly she felt bereft and so very lonely, confused and painfully aware that what she said next would scar her life.

  Taking her courage in both hands, her voice was shaking with emotion before the directness of his brilliant eyes. ‘I am not so forgiving that I will forget the cruel things you said to me at Oakbridge after you found me at the Black Swan. As I recall, you accused me of being Mark’s mistress—and you called me a whore. I thank you for your offer, Simon, but I will not marry a man who doubts me and does not trust me. That is my final resolve. I will not be forced. Consider your duty towards me discharged.’

  She left him then, feeling that something deep inside her had turned to ice. She suddenly felt utterly exhausted and very tired. She had lost everything she had ever wanted. There was nothing left except his anger, her disillusionment and the child inside her, clinging to the grudging life that awaited it. That was the moment when she knew the real, desperate meaning of isolation and the icy coldness of its grip.

  Simon watched her leave, knowing he should call her back—wanting to with every fibre of his being. He was a soldier, trained to keep even the most riotous emotions in check, a skill that could mean the difference between precious life or certain death. Could he stand in silence and watch the only woman who’d ever touched him to his very soul walk away?

  * * *

  At a time when he was totally immersed in marital bliss, William looked on Lord Rockley’s sudden arrival at Oakbridge with a mixture of concern and trepidation. After introducing him to Miranda, who greeted him with a genuine smile of welcome on her lips before disappearing to discuss the menu for dinner with Cook and to feed a ravenous Henry, they retired to the study. Simon lost no time informing William of his reason for the visit. He apologised for his hasty departure for London, but he was here now to discuss what had happened before that eventful day at the Black Swan Inn.

  William listened to what he had to say, expressing his own concern for his sister and proceeding to give his own account of what had driven her to seek out Mark Bucklow that day.

  ‘What happened to the Seniors upset her deeply. As a consequence of that she went to the Black Swan to beg Mark to leave Oakbridge and to leave us alone. I am ashamed that I wasn’t man enough to do it myself,’ he confessed, somewhat shamefaced.

  ‘And why would she think Bucklow would do as she asked?’

  ‘It was a gamble. It wasn’t the first time she’d approached him about the matter. He always refused, but this time she hoped to pay him off.’

  ‘You had money to do that?’

  ‘No. You must have seen for yourself that we have precious little—which is entirely down to me,’ he confessed somewhat sadly. ‘Gambling debts—you understand.’

  Simon did, all too well, for gambling ruined more men than it made. He felt a surge of anger for this privileged young man, who had had it all, only to throw it all away on the toss of a dice or the turn of a card. Christina deserved better than this for a brother.

  ‘We have paintings and other objects of value scattered about the house we could sell that we hoped would appease Mark,’ William went on. ‘We were desperate. Before Christina left, she told me that if Mark didn’t agree to our terms, then she would turn him in, even though it meant incriminating ourselves. And the mood she was in that day, I have no doubt she would have done exactly that.’

  ‘Why did you go along with Bucklow? Why didn’t you tell Sir John what was going on?’

  William looked straight into his visitor’s eyes, his expression grim. ‘Because Mark threatened to burn Oakbridge down about our ears and us along with it if we didn’t abide by his orders. He threatened both our lives—and believe me, Lord Rockley, when I tell you that Mark Bucklow would have disposed of us without a moment’s compunction.’

  ‘I see.’ And he did see. He saw it all now—that everything Christina had done she had done out of fear for her brother and herself—and most likely in that order. ‘So when she went to the Black Swan to confront Bucklow, she went knowing full well her life was in danger—and yet you let her go alone?’

  Unable to look at the cold accusing eyes that pierced him to his very soul, William swallowed nervously and nodded, deeply ashamed of his actions that day. ‘Yes,’ he said, his voice hoarse. ‘Believe me when I tell you that I’m not proud of myself. I didn’t want her to go. It was reckless, but when Christina sets her mind to doing something she is not easily put off.’

  Simon digested this stony faced, but he did not comment on it. ‘And she had no qualms about doing that—she was not romantically attached to Bucklow?’

  William stared at him aghast. ‘What? Christina and Mark? Good Lord! She hated the man. She would as soon make up to the Devil as him.’

  Simon’s face was expressionless as he digested this with surprise and a terrible sense of guilt. ‘Is this the truth?’

  ‘All of it.’

  ‘Then I have much to apologise for where your sister is concerned. I had no idea she was prepared to inform on him—or that he had threatened your lives.’

  ‘She didn’t tell you?’

  ‘Unfortunately, I didn’t give her the chance,’ he replied quietly, having to swallow down his wretchedness. ‘I believe you saw Bucklow after that?’

  William nodded. ‘He came here hoping to hide out until the whole sorry business had blown over. We turned him away, of course. He became angry and threatened us with his pistol. Before he could harm either of us, I shot him.’

  Simon stared at him in disbelief. ‘You killed him?’

  ‘No—unfortunately.’ He smiled lamely. ‘My shooting skills leave much to be desired, I’m afraid. It was a shoulder wound. How serious it was I cannot say because he rode off. I haven’t seen him
since.’

  ‘And Christina? How did she react to him being shot?’

  ‘With relief. She was glad to see the back of him. She—told me what occurred at the Black Swan Inn when you came upon her with Mark. You were wrong to condemn her. What you saw was not what it seemed. Had you not arrived when you did, he would have raped her.’

  ‘Yes, I had already worked that out for myself.’ Guilt seared through Simon when he realised just how hasty he had been to judge Christina, how wrong he had been, but it was important that he was made aware of all the facts. ‘And the only time she saw him after that was when he came here?’

  ‘It was. She ordered him to leave Oakbridge without giving him time to get off his horse.’ He sighed. ‘I rue the day I ever got mixed up with Bucklow. I was young and gullible. When he approached me I saw a means of becoming rich without much effort. That was all I could think of. I had no idea what it would involve, what it would do to Christina. As a brother I’ve failed her miserably. I got myself into a situation I couldn’t get out of. Unfortunately, when Mark began running his nefarious trade from here, Christina became involved by association. Obediently and dutifully, she did as she was bidden because she was terrified, but she hated it. We both knew what would happen if we didn’t comply.’

  ‘I must ask you—did you at any time receive payment from your involvement with Bucklow?’

  A pair of cool grey eyes held William’s captive, measuring his response, judging it for the truth. With a dismissive shake of his head, William said, ‘No. He lent me some money in the beginning, to pay off some gambling debts, which I failed to pay back. Little did I know he would use my debt to wheedle his way into Oakbridge. I swear I received nothing from the people he stole from. You—do believe me?’