“I expect you’re right,” she said. A small sigh escaped her, as if she didn’t relish the prospect.
He paused. “I trust you won’t find too much embarrassment in your situation. People will talk, of course, but once it is widely known how the estate was left, they’ll applaud you for doing your duty.” He glanced down at her. However distasteful that might be.
She blinked at him in surprise. “But I don’t give a fig for what people think.”
Ah, of course. He’d forgotten, for the moment, that she was a Westruther. “Then what troubles you?”
Her gaze lowered. “I must admit, I dread telling the Duke of Montford. He was against our alliance from the outset.”
He frowned. “You are not afraid of him?”
“No! No, it’s not easy to explain.” She spread her hands. “He is the most redoubtable gentleman. If he sets out to achieve something, he always does. I’ve never known him at a stand over even the smallest thing.” She brought her thumb to her lips and worried at the side of it with her teeth. “I fear that if he wants to stop us marrying, he’ll do it.”
Surely her worry was needless. “What can Montford do? He has no control over you.”
“Oh, I don’t know! Even though I’m a grown woman now, with Montford I still feel like a lost little girl.” Her gaze flicked to Constantine. “Did Lady Arden tell you much about my history?”
He shook his head.
She drew a deep breath. “I was eight years old when the Duke of Montford found me.”
They reached the stone bridge that arched romantically over the lake. Jane picked up her skirts to begin the climb to its apex. “My mother ran away from home soon after I was born, taking me with her. I don’t remember her at all. They told me that within a short time of arriving in London, she died.”
“They?” he repeated.
“The couple at the boardinghouse who took me in.” Her lips quivered; her eyes darkened, as if at a frightening memory. “They were … not kind people. I was luckier than many children in that part of London, however. While they hadn’t been able to discover my identity, my keepers deduced that I belonged to the Quality. They could have appropriated the money my mother left and thrown me into a foundling hospital, but instead, they fed, housed, and clothed me. You see, they gambled that one day, someone from my family would come in search of me and repay them handsomely for their care.”
Constantine listened to this tale, appalled. His delicate Jane, in the hands of such monsters? He couldn’t imagine what she’d suffered. No wonder she found it so difficult to give anyone her trust.
“And that’s what happened.” His voice sounded rusty to his ears. “Montford found you.”
“Yes. The duke. They pawned my mother’s belongings and somehow Montford got wind of it and found them. He came down on that awful pair like the wrath of God.” She lifted one shoulder. “I still don’t know exactly what happened to them. His Grace simply told me he’d taken care of it and I wasn’t to trouble my head about them ever again. For the first time in my life I felt safe.”
They’d reached the top of the bridge’s gentle curve. Constantine took her hand and held it. He hated to think of her so fearful and alone. “I’m glad a man of Montford’s steel dealt with them. I don’t think I’d be content with anything less.” He hoped the duke had wrung their bloody necks and thrown them into the Thames.
He hesitated. “Your father?”
“Oh…” She looked away, out over the lake. “I wasn’t the boy—the heir—he wanted, apparently. He didn’t trouble to look for me. I never knew him, but I’m told he was not a nice man. When he died, the duke was appointed my guardian. I was quite an heiress as the only child of a wealthy earl. That’s why the duke searched for me so diligently.”
For a few moments, Jane gazed out over the blue brilliance of the lake. Then she took Constantine’s arm again, and they descended to the other side.
“So you see,” she finished, as they stepped off the bridge, “Montford has always loomed large in my life. If he could search England and find a small girl … Well, stopping our marriage would be child’s play.” She shook her head. “It sounds foolish to you, I daresay.”
“No, not foolish. It is natural for you to feel that way. We would do well to enlist Lady Arden’s aid in securing Montford’s agreement.” He took her hand in his. “But let me assure you that I have not the slightest urge to bend to Montford’s will. Whatever pressure he might place on you, my determination to marry you will not change.”
She seemed to consider that. “May I ask you a question, Constantine?”
“Of course.”
“Why do you wish to marry me?”
He didn’t allow his easy amble to falter. She had disconcerted him, however. The longer he hesitated, the more apparent that became.
In an attempt at recovery, he gave her a glinting smile. “For your money, my dear. I thought you knew that.”
A small frown puckered the space between those sleek eyebrows.
Before she could puzzle out the truth, he drew her into the concealing shade of a tree and took her into his arms. “However,” he added, “there are definite side benefits.”
Constantine’s mouth found Jane’s before she could voice a protest. He swept her up into his embrace, trusting that the heat of his lips and tongue on hers would melt her objections, that she’d lose herself in passion.
When he raised his head at last, he felt as dizzy as a boy stealing his first kiss.
“Midnight,” he whispered against her lips. “I’ll come to you tonight.”
“Yes.” She shivered in his arms, whether in fear or excitement, he wasn’t sure.
When he would have drawn back, she followed him into the kiss and prolonged it, moving restlessly against him, dancing her tongue over his, running her palms along his shoulders. With questing forays of her mouth and hands, she questioned him. And, God help him, he answered, told her all she wanted to know.
He emerged much later with the disorienting feeling that Jane had turned the tables on him, though he didn’t quite know how. But as they finally recollected themselves and strolled back to the house, it struck him that she was now well informed of the truth of his intentions, even if he’d meant to keep her ignorant. Perhaps better informed than he was, and that didn’t suit him at all.
* * *
“Oh, my dears! That is wonderful news. How thrilling! I had not the least notion of it when I saw you this morning.” Lady Arden’s expressive features lit with delight.
“Disingenuous, ma’am,” said Constantine, stealing an arm around Lady Arden’s waist and kissing her cheek. “You’ve been angling for this outcome from the first.”
“Only because I’m persuaded it’s what’s best for you both,” she asserted.
Her ladyship sank onto a couch in a cloud of muslin. “Do sit down and tell me all about it.”
When Constantine made as if to join them, she flicked her hand in a dismissive gesture. “No, not you, Constantine! Men are shockingly in the way when it comes to discussing proposals and bridals. Jane, dear. Come and take some tea.”
With a comical look of dismay, Constantine turned to take Jane’s hand in a warm clasp.
This time, he did not merely bow, but raised her hand to kiss it. The action made a caress of the courtesy. Gentlemen did not kiss ladies’ hands anymore, or at least not in public.
The brush of his lips across her knuckles sent heat scintillating through her body. She gasped and felt her cheeks redden. When Constantine looked up, there was a world of sensual promise in his eyes. The look was swift, but none the less powerful for that. Before Jane had quite recovered from this interlude, he was gone.
She turned, to find Lady Arden busy with the tea things, turning the tap on the silver urn to let hot water rush into a delicate china cup. Thank goodness she had not observed that exchange.
Jane’s cheeks were feverishly hot, her body jittery. She made herself draw a deep, calming breath
before she sat opposite Lady Arden over the tea urn.
When she’d finished her preparations, Lady Arden handed Jane her cup.
She observed Jane with an air of satisfaction. “You are just the woman I would have chosen for Constantine! I prophesy you’ll deal extremely together.”
She’d said exactly the same about Frederick, as Jane recalled, so it was difficult to take comfort from the assurance. Of course, Lady Arden hadn’t an inkling about the true nature of Jane’s marriage. In their youth, Jane and Frederick had been friends. Lady Arden could be excused for predicting their union would be a happy one.
“Tell me, Jane,” said the lady, picking up her own cup and gazing at her over its brim. “Is this a love match?”
Jane thought of Constantine’s answer to a similar question. Controlling her voice, she said, “Good God, no! It’s for the estate.”
Of all people, Lady Arden would understand that motive. She would be less inclined to credit Jane’s other reason.
Luke. Constantine was going to be an excellent father, even if he didn’t know it yet.
Lady Arden nodded. “Very wise. Well, I am vastly pleased that you are both being so practical, at last. I’d be even better satisfied if you hadn’t developed a tendre for one another.”
Jane jumped and a little tea spilled in her saucer. “Oh, drat!”
“Never mind, dear. I daresay you’ll both deny it, so I’ll hold my peace.” She selected a biscuit. “Nothing wrong with having a tendre for the man you are to wed, of course, but beware, won’t you? Men like Constantine might appear besotted in the first flush of courtship, but once they get what they want from you, their ardor often dies.”
The brilliance in Lady Arden’s eyes dimmed a little. She set down the biscuit, uneaten, on her plate. “You will be financially secure, of course. Montford will make sure the settlements are generous in your favor. I’m sure Constantine wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“As to that, ma’am,” Jane said, “I fear we shall meet with opposition from the duke. He warned me not to consider marrying Constantine.”
“Oh, don’t worry about His Grace. I shall handle him.” Lady Arden hesitated. “I did not like to raise the matter before, but now that there is an understanding between you, I feel it incumbent on me to mention it.”
Jane froze. Lady Arden was going to rake up the past, just when Jane had made her peace with Constantine’s part in that long-ago scandal. “Constantine’s history is none of my concern. Truly, there’s no need—”
“But there is, dear.” Lady Arden smoothed her skirts a little, then folded her hands in her lap. With the air of one who was undertaking an unpleasant task, she said, “As his wife, you’ll be affected by Constantine’s standing in society in all manner of ways.”
“I don’t care for society, so that makes no odds,” said Jane.
One of the reasons she’d agreed so readily to marry Frederick at seventeen was to avoid making her come-out in London. That, and the fact she’d been wholly infatuated with the man.
“Not care for society!” Lady Arden took out her handkerchief and fanned herself a little. “Oh, my dear. You must, for Constantine’s sake, overcome your reluctance for polite company.”
“For Constantine’s sake?”
“Well, of course, dear. He would never admit it, but for a social creature like Constantine, being cast out the way he was … It wasn’t easy for him.”
“Perhaps he ought to have considered that before he seduced and abandoned an innocent girl,” said Jane tartly.
Lady Arden raised her brows. “If that’s what you think, I am surprised you countenanced his suit.”
A very good point, and one Jane still wrestled with. She pursed her lips. “And I am surprised, my lady, that you have not already helped reestablish Constantine’s character in the ton.”
Perhaps, before he became Roxdale, reestablishing him had not been such a matter of concern to Lady Arden. Now, that was a cynical thought! But it behooved Jane to remember that Lady Arden and the Duke of Montford were birds of a feather when it came to furthering the interests of their respective houses. One could never be too cynical in judging their motives.
“You are right. I failed,” Lady Arden said, surprising her. “Ordinarily, I do not admit defeat, but in this case…” She shrugged unhappily. “I could not help Constantine because he didn’t wish to be helped. He went straight to the Devil and there was little I could do.”
“His family?”
Lady Arden shook her head. “His father cast him off completely, and of course his mother and sisters were too timid to flout his authority. Constantine’s brother George was the only one who stood by him, but George is a country gentleman, and a younger son at that. His stamp of approval counted for little among the beau monde.”
Jane shifted uncomfortably. “I beg your pardon, ma’am, but I feel disloyal, talking about Constantine this way.”
“My dear, it is not disloyal to discuss what we might do for him. We both have his best interests at heart. And the Lord knows he will never tell you this himself. The fact that he can still show his face at all in society is partly due to my intervention. I must say, it wasn’t easy, especially when Constantine was so determined to shoot himself in the foot over the business.”
She paused. “You say you do not care for society. You might think that is so, until an old friend cuts you in the street, or your children are ostracized by their peers. Scandal can taint your extended family, too, you know. How would you manage if your own cousins were prohibited from receiving you at Harcourt?”
“I’m persuaded that would never happen.”
Lady Arden spread her hands. “Perhaps not. But it is what would occur in many cases. Constantine’s papa barred him from his own home, you know. The poor boy didn’t see his father again before he died. It is no easy thing to live with one foot in and one foot out of our world. You’ve never known what it is to be cast out, Jane, and I hope you never will.”
Jane frowned over these words. “Are you saying I shouldn’t marry him, ma’am?”
“I’m saying you need to help him. You are a Westruther, an intimate connection of the Duke of Montford. The simple act of Constantine’s marrying you goes a long way to reestablish him, but it will not be quite enough. You need to show the world that he has your full support, and that of your family.”
The prospect gave Jane a panicky feeling in her chest. She’d rather have a tooth drawn than go to balls and parties in Town. But she couldn’t ignore Lady Arden’s plea.
A little shyly, she said, “You have an affection for him, don’t you, my lady?”
“Oh, yes indeed! He was such an impetuous, wild youth, but always with a good, kind heart.” She shook her head, her dark eyes sad. “I never understood why he didn’t do the decent thing by Miss Flockton. Anyone could see he was mad for the girl. We all thought it only a matter of time before they tied the knot. And then that horrid scandal.”
Lady Arden sipped her tea. “He and Miss Flockton were found together in his bedchamber at a house party, can you believe it? How could Constantine have been so indiscreet? Why couldn’t he have waited till the wedding night, I ask you? Men! Sometimes they do not think with their brains, if you take my meaning.”
Jane couldn’t mistake the innuendo. Her cheeks heated. She tried not to think of this unknown Miss Flockton in Constantine’s bed.
“The duke told me Miss Flockton married a barrister,” she managed.
“Yes, well, what could the poor girl do when her idiot brother had the bad taste to challenge Constantine to a duel over her, and the parents wailed about her shame all over town? Trying to force Constantine’s hand over it, I daresay. They were minor gentry, but ambitious. The girl hadn’t a penny, but she was very beautiful, of course.”
Oh, of course, thought Jane bitterly. Any girl Constantine ruined would be beautiful.
“Constantine came out of the duel unscathed but the brother did not,” said Lady Arde
n. “The least Constantine could have done was deloped—fired in the air, you know—but not he! The ball lodged in the brother’s shoulder and he nearly died of a fever, poor fellow. It looked for a time that Constantine would have to fly the country, but thank goodness, the brother rallied. And still Constantine wouldn’t marry the girl! She had no choice but to wed a nobody and thank heaven she didn’t suffer a worse fate.”
Jane shook her head over it. She couldn’t quite reconcile this story with what she knew, or thought she knew, of Constantine. One thing it did teach her, however, was not to place too much faith in his apparent affections. He must be a fickle creature to have deserted a lady so in need of his help. A lady, moreover, whom he’d made the object of his attentions.
Tentatively, Jane said, “Constantine and Frederick had a falling-out, but I had the impression that it was not to do with Miss Flockton.” She hesitated. “I had heard Constantine lost his fortune at cards.”
“Nonsense! Broadmere is a prosperous estate and the family is perfectly well-to-do. Where had you heard that?”
Jane frowned. “Do you know, I’m not sure. It must have been from Frederick, I think.”
Why would Frederick have said such things if they weren’t true? Perhaps he genuinely believed them. Or perhaps he’d been so prejudiced against his cousin that he heaped every kind of ill on his head.
Setting down her teacup, Lady Arden shrugged. “Oh, I daresay Constantine plays—we all do—but he never lost any large sums at the tables or you may be sure I’d have heard of it.”
Her brow puckered, Jane said, “I might have misunderstood, or perhaps Frederick did. I am pleased to know that it is not the case. I should hate to see this estate laid to waste from such a cause as gaming.”
“You may rest easy on that score,” said Lady Arden. She leaned forward, fixing her brilliant dark eyes on Jane. “Will you help him?”
Given her bargain with Constantine, she wasn’t in a position to promise any such thing. If she needed to break their betrothal, she would only do Constantine’s reputation more harm.
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