Rumors That Ruined a Lady

by Marguerite Kaye

  Though she knew he would notice. He always did. She caught him looking at her sometimes, his eyes darkened with an intent that excited her, but it was always quickly masked. Even if he did find her attractive, it would come to nothing. She must be careful, very careful, not to let herself forget that.

  Where was he? Frowning, she scanned the ballroom. It was very late. Perhaps he would not show up on this occasion. Perhaps he had tired of society after all. He never made any promises when she told him artlessly which events she would be attending, but in the last seven—no, it was eight—weeks, he had been there at most balls, and several parties. Was she spoiling her chances, as Bella had suggested? She hadn’t thought about it until now, and she didn’t want to. She was but twenty years old, and Sebastian was not actually much older, no matter how experienced. Who cared about the future, who cared about stuffy things like blood lines and pedigrees—she was not a horse! And if other people wanted to label her a flirt—well then, other people were simply jealous that Sebastian sought her company and not theirs.

  For goodness’ sake, where was he? Consulting the dance card which dangled from her wrist, she saw that the waltz was next. She had saved it for him. Beside her, Cressie was accepting Mr Peyton’s hand. The band played the opening chords, and the dance floor began to fill, obscuring the flutter of very late new arrivals in the doorway. One of them was tall, with close-cropped hair. The dance had started. Cressie would be a good dancer if she kept her mind on the steps, but she never could, for her mind was filled with numbers. Mr Peyton was making a terrible hash of steering the pair of them round the floor. The tall man in the doorway had familiar dark brown hair. Caro’s heart did a silly flutter. His evening coat was black, cut tight across his shoulders. Admirable shoulders they were.

  He turned and she could not suppress her smile, despite knowing that Bella’s watchful gaze was upon her. Sebastian’s perfectly tied cravat, the impeccably white collar of his shirt, drew attention to the fact that he really ought to have shaved. The shadow of dark stubble gave him a raffish look. He was talking to Lady Innellan, who was looking up at him in a mixture of glee and astonishment.

  Caro tried very hard to keep demurely still, but as he made his way towards her, her feet of their own accord took several steps in his direction. His waistcoat was dark blue, with just the gold of his watch fob to detract from its plainness. His evening trousers were black and tightly fitted, strapped under black square-toed shoes. He had very long legs, which showed to excellent advantage in such trousers. Not that she should be looking at his legs, but really those trousers, they did draw one’s eyes. It was like a woman’s décolleté. She never could understand why evening gowns were cut so low as to put one’s bosom on show, and yet when a man was discovered looking it was supposed to be the grossest of insults. Not that many people looked at her bosom, which was much too frugal. Cressie had a very nice figure, if only she would show it off. Sebastian had a perfect figure. He was smiling at her. No, she would not blush. She would not allow him to see how pleased she was to see him. He was certainly not the most handsome man in the room. His brow was too wide, his nose too strong, and his mouth...

  ‘Lady Armstrong, you are acquainted with the Earl of Mosteyn, I know, for he is our country neighbour, the Marquis of Ardhallow’s only son. Lord Sebastian wishes to dance with Lady Caroline.’ Lady Innellan did not say quite insists upon it, but it was obvious that was precisely what she was thinking.

  Sebastian was bowing over Bella’s hand. It was rather a perfunctory bow. Bella was frowning, obviously trying to think of a way of refusing Caro permission to dance. ‘I have never had the honour of being invited to Crag Hall,’ she said stiffly. ‘Nor have I met your father, though he and my husband are well acquainted. Strange, that it is here in London and not the country that we are finally getting to know you so well.’

  ‘Not so strange. It is common knowledge that my father is something of a recluse,’ Sebastian replied stiffly.

  ‘And very common knowledge indeed that his son is equally averse to keeping polite society,’ Bella said, with a malicious smile. ‘I was speculating just five minutes ago with Caroline here, as to the reasons for your rather sudden change in habits, my lord. In fact I am very sure it is quite a popular topic of conversation among Lady Innellan’s guests.’

  ‘I am sure that her ladyship’s guests have far more interesting subjects upon which to converse.’

  Sebastian’s voice was cool, but Caro could see, from the way his eyes glittered, that he was in a dangerous mood. ‘Shall we?’ she said, putting her arm through his and tugging him insistently in the direction of the dance floor.

  ‘Caroline, you will not forget what I said, I trust,’ Bella called after her.

  * * *

  ‘And what is it that you are not to forget?’ Sebastian asked, putting his arm around her waist.

  Caro shook her head. ‘It’s of no consequence.’

  ‘Let me hazard a guess. Your stepmother has decided that I am not to be trusted with her virgin charge. She is afraid that being seen so often in my company is damaging your chances.’ Sebastian spoke more bitterly than he intended, but the interview with his father which had just concluded, and was responsible for his late arrival, was still horribly fresh in his mind. For Lord Ardhallow to leave the sanctuary of Crag Hall was almost unprecedented. The lecture had been more painful than all the others he had received over the years. His father’s cold fury, cutting sarcasm and icy hatred were just about bearable. It was his own lack of foresight, the self-delusion laid bare by his father, which pained Sebastian the most.

  Since coming to London you have been unremitting in your efforts to bring shame and scandal to our family name. I believe you actually take pride in your reputation as a libertine. However, philandering with harlots and harpies is one thing, I will not stand by while a son of mine destroys an innocent, and especially not when she is my neighbour’s daughter. Lady Caroline Armstrong deserves a far better suitor than a reprobate like you. This game of yours, for I am in no doubt it is a game, must end forthwith.

  That the tirade was as a result of his having, for once, behaved with perfect propriety, made it all the more painful. Have you not repeatedly suggested that I sample polite society? he had thrown at Lord Ardhallow, only to be viciously laughed at. Too late for that, the old man had said, you are too much the rake for any respectable man, far less someone as eminent as Lord Armstrong, to entrust with his daughter. His lordship was most insistent that I impress upon you his deep disquiet and disapproval of your dalliance with Lady Caroline.

  Too late. He was not yet twenty-five, but even his own father, the man who had spent the better part of the last four years urging him to reform, to settle down, to accept his responsibilities as heir to the ancient title, had given up on him. It should not have hurt so much. He was furious with himself that it did. Why the devil should he care what his father thought? He had never cared about that damned title, and it was not as if it would be his for decades, with the current incumbent as healthy as a horse.

  But as he endured his father’s haranguing, despite the show of indifference his pride maintained, the full scale of Sebastian’s self-deception began to dawn on him. He had allowed himself to believe that Caro was merely indulging in a flirtation even though he knew she was far too innocent to know how to flirt. He had taken her protestations of indifference at face value because he wanted to. He had not allowed himself to wonder why such an innocent would have kissed him because he didn’t want to confront the fact that she might be falling in love with him.

  He didn’t love her. He didn’t love anyone. He was, however, by no means as indifferent as he thought he was. His father’s contempt for his feelings forced him to admit, if only to himself, that he had feelings, and that is what confused him most. He had never felt like this before. He didn’t want to feel like this. More importantly, he didn’t want to hurt
Caro. She deserved better. It pained him to agree with his father, but for once the marquis was right. He must break off contact with her before it was too late.

  Becoming aware that she was studying him, that he had said almost nothing for two turns of the floor, Sebastian tried to smile. ‘In short,’ he said, ‘your stepmother insists our acquaintance is inappropriate, and she is quite correct in that assertion.’

  Caro flushed. ‘No, she is not. I don’t care if there’s gossip about us, if I’m seen as your flirt, and...’

  ‘You are not my flirt. Is that what they are saying?’

  ‘Bella has a spiteful tongue. You are gripping my hand like a vice, Sebastian.’

  ‘I beg your pardon. I should have realised there would inevitably be gossip. Even my own friends told me...’ That he was turned soft in the head. That he was too young to be setting up his nursery. That he was a fool to be dancing with virgins when he could have his pick of women who offered more tangible pleasures. He should have realised that if people were talking about him, they’d be talking about Caro too. But he had not, curse it.

  ‘What is it that your friends have been saying, Sebastian?’

  ‘Merely that I have been deserting them of late,’ he replied. ‘They are right too. I have been most remiss in neglecting them. I must remedy that.’

  Caro’s flinch was barely perceptible. Had he not been holding her so closely, he may have missed it altogether. ‘Then you must apologise to your friends on my behalf. It was not my intention to keep you from them, nor to monopolise your time, as I obviously have.’

  Her smile was very determined. She did care. Oh God, he had been such a fool. He dreaded the coming confrontation, but it was best to make a clean break. The waltz was coming to an end. Their last ever dance, it would be, which would delight both his father and Lord Armstrong, whose interference in the matter he could not divulge to Caro. He had done enough damage already.

  His thigh brushed against hers as he led her into a turn. Between them there were yards of silk brocade and petticoats, yet he could feel her body tingle against his, as though they were naked. Madness, to succumb to the temptation of holding her like this, far too close for propriety, but the devil fly away with propriety this one last time. The churning in his stomach, the tension in his body, which the interview with his father had initiated, which his self-flagellation following it had enhanced, now seemed to focus, forming a hard knot in his middle. This one last time. There was no alternative. ‘Caroline...’

  Her gloved fingers tightened on his. ‘Why do you call me that? Oh please, Sebastian, don’t pay any heed to Bella.’

  The edge of panic in her voice entrenched his resolve. The dance ended. A quick glance reassured him that Lady Armstrong had succumbed to the appetising allure of the supper room. Tucking Caro’s arm into his, Sebastian led the way out of the ballroom, through several increasingly less crowded ante-chambers, and into a small, deserted salon.

  * * *

  ‘How on earth did you know about this room?’ Caro gazed about her, at the fire crackling in the grate, the decanter set out with glasses, the candles burning in their sconces above the mantel.

  ‘It is the business of any rake worth his salt to know about secluded rooms when attending a party,’ Sebastian replied, ‘and the business of any hostess worth her salt to provide them.’

  He was not exactly avoiding her eye, but he wasn’t quite looking at her either. He wasn’t angry, though he seemed extremely tense, and his tone, dripping sarcasm, was harsh. She had a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach, but she ignored it valiantly, striving for a lightness she did not feel. ‘I can’t believe that of Lady Innellan. Do you really mean that she expects you—men to—to use rooms like this for...’

  Sebastian lifted the decanter, sniffed the contents and put it back, wrinkling his nose in distaste. ‘Dalliance. Seduction. Indecent proposals. Perhaps even the occasional decent one,’ he quipped.

  Caro was not fooled. She didn’t like the way he was looking at her, as if he was about to tell her that someone had died. Sneaking a sidelong glance at him, she made a show of examining an ugly Chinese figurine of a greenish bullock which looked as sick as she felt. ‘I am fairly certain that you would not offer me an indecent proposal, for you told me yourself you never seduce innocents.’

  Her voice sounded peculiar to her own ears, but Sebastian didn’t seem to notice. ‘I am glad that you, at least, are confident of that,’ he said.

  There was a bitterness in his voice that she could not account for. Was he implying that someone had suggested he would make her an improper proposal? No, that was simply preposterous. ‘I am also confident,’ she said with a very, very false smile she was sure would not even fool Bella, ‘that you are not about to make me a decent proposal either, for you have made your views on the subject of matrimony most clear. Once a rake, as my stepmother says, always a rake, isn’t that so?’

  She could have kicked herself for the pleading note in her voice, but Sebastian seemed oblivious. ‘Your stepmother and my father agree on that too, it seems,’ he said, removing the figurine from her hands.

  ‘Your father? What has he to do with this? Has he been talking to Bella? But she said only tonight that they are not acquainted.’ Caro shook her head impatiently, as if doing so would clear the confusion inside it. This was wrong, all wrong, but she didn’t understand why.

  ‘Caro, the point is, people are talking about us. If they knew we were here, alone, if we were discovered...’

  ‘Then you would say we are betrothed, and everyone would be happy.’

  She said it flippantly, without thinking. She said it because she hoped against hope that he would say something to give her hope, but Sebastian winced. ‘It wouldn’t make anyone happy, Caro. Your father wants a good match for you, he has no desire at all to see you married to a rake like me.’

  ‘You are the heir to one of the oldest titles in the land, and your father is one of my father’s oldest acquaintances. I should think Papa would be most pleased indeed at such an alliance.’

  ‘Not if it meant taking on one such as I as a son-in-law,’ Sebastian said with a sneer.

  ‘How can you be so sure?’

  ‘I have my reasons, believe me, but that is not the point. What matters is that I couldn’t make you happy, Caro.’

  The lump in her throat felt sharp, painful, like a stone with jagged edges. ‘You mean you don’t want to,’ she replied. Tears welled up, but she refused, she absolutely refused to let a single one fall. She would not let him see how hurt she was. It was her own fault, after all, for allowing her emotions to slip off the leash. ‘Don’t worry, I should turn you down, in the very unlikely event of your being forced to propose.’

  Sebastian looked at her for so long that she thought she was bound to give herself away. ‘I never meant to hurt you,’ he said heavily.

  She clenched her fists tight in the folds of her gown, and kept her eyes wide to prevent them from filling. ‘I am not hurt. Sebastian, there is no need for this. I know you have no intentions in that direction, why cannot you accept that and—and—dammit, why can’t we just carry on as we are?’

  ‘On top of all my other crimes, it seems I’ve taught you to swear. Please don’t cry, Caro.’

  ‘I’m not.’ She dashed a hand across her eyes and sniffed. ‘You really are—what is that expression—giving me my congé? You’re actually yielding to the malicious tittle-tattle of my horrible stepmother and some gossipmongers. They don’t matter.’

  He pulled her towards him, kissing her eyelids, the tears that clung to her lashes. ‘They do matter, Caro. I won’t have them say I have ruined you. I won’t ruin you. You deserve better.’

  Anger came to her rescue. He felt sorry for her. She would not be pitied. ‘Very noble. The truth is you are bored with me and so I am getting the brush off.
I don’t even merit a diamond bracelet, as Kitty Garrison did. Then again, I did not provide you with the kind of entertainment she did either. Perhaps if I had...’

  ‘Caroline!’

  ‘Oh, don’t pretend you are shocked, Sebastian, when it was yourself who introduced us. Very well then, go back to your old haunts and your old lady loves and do whatever it is that the Heartless Heartbreaker does.’

  His eyes flashed, but he bit back the angry retort he was about to make. ‘I have decided to go abroad, as a matter of fact.’

  ‘Abroad? You mean you are leaving London?’ she asked stupidly. She could accept him avoiding her for a time, but if he was leaving London altogether... ‘You can’t mean it.’

  Sebastian’s mouth was set. ‘When we met at the séance I recall telling you that I was thinking of doing just that.’

  ‘You said you needed a change. But you’ve had a change, and...’

  ‘I need a more substantial change. I need to get away.’

  ‘No. Sebastian, please say you are teasing me.’

  She had caught his hand between hers, was holding it as if she could keep him captive, which was exactly what she wanted to do. It was a mistake. A complete give-away, judging by the way he was looking at her. She could not bear his pity. She could not bear to be in this room, having this conversation, for a moment longer.

  Caro flung herself free. ‘Very well then, go and good riddance! In fact go with my blessing, because I see now that Bella was quite right. You have been a distraction. I am not here in London to have fun but to make a suitable match. Without you to call upon my time I am very sure I will make an excellent one and that will make my father happy and Bella happy and Cressie happy too, because then she won’t have to worry so much about not having made a match herself.’ She folded her arms across her chest and nodded firmly. ‘I agree with you. It is absolutely for the best that you go. I cannot imagine why you have lingered so long. Please, do not let me keep you.’