Society's Most Scandalous Rake

by Isabelle Goddard

  Or could he? He paced up and down the floor, wooden boards creaking and cracking as he went. Dared he embrace a different kind of life, a life where he was no longer in control, one which held unknown pitfalls and sorrows? To live as he had these last six years was undemanding and free of pain. But she was in trouble. She needed him. Was he such a coward he could not step up to that challenge? Because of him, she had turned away from the future she’d envisaged—and to what? A wasteland. There was no longer any future for her. He might have burned his fingers, but he had burned hers, too. He had to put it right. He had to step right into the fire, there was no other way. He had to marry her.

  * * *

  Domino’s resolve to obliterate Joshua Marchmain from her world was put to the test almost immediately. She had slept little and was making her way bleary-eyed to the breakfast table the next morning when a disapproving Marston put a small posy of wild flowers into her hand: blue bellflowers and pink eglantine roses interweaved with strands of ivy. She carried them into her small downstairs parlour and sat staring at them for what seemed an age. There was no note, but she knew from whom they came. Reluctantly, she took down the dictionary of flowers from its resting place and flicked through the pages. Here they all were: bellflowers for thinking of you, the roses for a wound to heal and the ivy for friendship. And this was his response to her complete humiliation! She threw the book on to the table and strode into the hall, grabbing the posy on the way. One of the undermaids was busy dusting a console table and bobbed a small curtsy as she saw Domino approach.

  ‘Lizzie, isn’t it?’ The maid nodded nervously, wondering if her dusting was at fault. It was usually Miss Carmela who took her to task.

  ‘I’d like you to have these, Lizzie. They will cheer your bedroom.’

  The maid gaped and Domino said in a voice that brooked no argument, ‘You will need to put them in water—now.’

  The hall clock was striking eleven as the maid scurried away and Domino, still trembling slightly, walked back into the parlour. Almost immediately she spied his figure through the small square panes of its window; in the distance Joshua walking slowly back and forth along the promenade. He was waiting for her, she knew. Her anger had begun to cool and in its place the impulse to run to him was gathering strength. Determinedly she beat it back, but it cost her dear and she thought it wise to retreat to her bedroom, which faced the opposite direction. An hour later, she returned to the parlour and saw that he was gone. She felt empty and aching but knew that she had done the right thing. Twenty-four hours dragged by and brought with them another bouquet. This time Marston could hardly bring himself to hand the posy to his mistress. She ignored the servant’s deep frown and took them in silence. But her anger was reignited and she stomped through to the back kitchen and plunged the flowers unceremoniously into the rubbish bin. She had no idea what Joshua’s intentions were, but if he thought that two bunches of wild flowers would erase the pain he had caused, then he was more arrogant than she had ever believed. She felt proud that she had ignored his siren call and marvelled at her resolve, but a small, hard nut of anguish had settled itself firmly within her and she knew it would be her companion for years to come.

  * * *

  For three days she dared not venture beyond the front door for fear of being waylaid, but when no further offerings arrived and Joshua’s figure no longer strolled the seafront, she thought it safe to leave the house. A travelling fair had come to Bartholomews and Flora was mad to attend. The fair’s unsophisticated pleasures were unlikely to soothe Domino’s anguish, but she knew that she could not stay indoors forever. After the ravages of recent days, modish clothes had ceased to be important and she donned an inexpensive sprig muslin and a plain straw bonnet for the outing. With Flora chattering by her side, they began the walk along Marine Parade towards the Steine. They had barely walked fifty paces when, at the corner of Chapel Street, an immaculately attired Joshua stepped across their path and forced them to a halt.

  He could not have known we would be walking here today, Domino thought. He must have been waiting nearby for days. He bowed deeply and she nodded briefly in response, edging around him in an effort to continue her journey. Already she could feel her traitorous body working against her.

  ‘Would you do me the honour of allowing me to escort you this morning, Miss de Silva?’ he enquired formally.

  ‘Thank you, Mr Marchmain, but as you see I have my maid with me and she is all the protection I need,’ she was glad to be able to reply with equal formality.

  He bowed again and she could see him looking searchingly at her face. She hoped he would not remark her pallor and the dark circles beneath her eyes. The longer he stood there, the harder it was to avert her gaze from his beautiful person. And she needed to.

  ‘We are a trifle short of time this morning, sir. If you would excuse us…’ and she edged even further ahead.

  ‘So short of time that you cannot spare five minutes?’

  There was something in his voice that made Domino pause. He was dressed in his usual elegant fashion, his skin lightly tanned and his hair glinting gold in the late summer sun; as ever he looked the perfect man. Yet there was something different, she felt. Could it be that he was nervous? Surely not!

  During their interchange Flora had been looking from one to the other, her mouth opening and closing like a fish searching for water. She was evidently confused and now the flush on her cheeks signalled her annoyance at the unwanted intrusion on her mistress. She looked likely to find her tongue at any moment.

  Domino made a swift decision. ‘Go ahead, Flora, I will catch you up.’

  ‘But will you be all right, Miss Domino?’

  ‘Perfectly. I shall be with you in an instant.’

  They watched the maid walk unwillingly towards the town before Joshua spoke.

  ‘I sent you flowers.’

  She said nothing.

  ‘I hoped you would understand their message.’

  ‘I understood.’

  ‘Then why did you not respond?’

  She would have liked to harangue him with her opinion of his message, but instead she settled for scorn. ‘Since when have I had to account to you for my actions?’ Her voice trembled only slightly.

  He wasn’t deterred. ‘I wanted to speak to you, Domino—badly.’

  She raised her eyebrows and he continued hurriedly, ‘I’ve been a fool. I was a fool on our ride. Not because I escorted you home—that was the right thing to do—but because I should have told you…’ he paused uncertainly ‘…told you what I am about to say.’

  Her eyebrows climbed higher. She had no idea what he was about. All she knew was that she must not look at him, but concentrate very hard on what he was saying.

  ‘You are no longer willing to accept an arranged marriage?’

  She nodded mutely, wondering where this was leading.

  ‘So you are free to make your own choice of husband?’ he was saying. Then the bombshell. ‘I think your choice should be me.’

  ‘What!’ She was stunned.

  ‘I think you should marry me.’

  ‘Is this some kind of perverted joke?’

  ‘I can’t blame you for judging me harshly. But it’s no joke, though it may seem so. In truth, marriage to a rake is unlikely to advance your social standing.’

  She was incensed and hurt in equal measure. His false proposal was yet another dagger to her heart.

  ‘I do not deserve your mocking, sir. If this is no joke, then it is a Banbury story. If I were foolish enough to accept your offer—which, rest assured, I am not—you would be sure to decide that your proposal was after all an unfortunate mistake.’

  ‘However much to the contrary it may appear, I was sincere in our lovemaking, Domino, and I am sincere now.’

  She was
still recovering from the first shock of his announcement and could hardly take in what he was saying. Bewilderment made her cutting. ‘You would not know the meaning of the word.’

  ‘Please believe that I have always had your best interests at heart.’

  ‘And now you have my best interests at heart by asking me to marry you? Forgive me if I am very slightly sceptical.’

  ‘Your feelings are understandable. But I have done a good deal of thinking over these last few days and I know this is right.’

  ‘And when did this improbable revelation visit you exactly?’

  ‘I’ve made you angry. I’m sorry for that. You see, I never wished to disrupt your life and I didn’t think I was the one to make you happy: I carry too much of the past with me. I should have kept away, but somehow I couldn’t, and now that you’ve given up all idea of marrying to please your family, I’m asking you to marry to please me.’

  Seeing her desperately trying to make sense of his words, he pressed home his case. ‘Please believe me when I say that I don’t ask you this lightly. I know that I want to live with you, to make a home with you—if you will have me.’

  She was weakening. He sounded so earnest, but this change of fortunes was too much to swallow. ‘It’s not possible. Joshua, you cannot want to marry!’

  He looked at her so fiercely that she was almost afraid. ‘But I do.’ Then, in a weak attempt to return to the Joshua she knew, ‘If we marry, I may even allow you to hang my precious da Vinci!’

  The quip faded and his expression took on a rare seriousness, ‘You should know, Domino, that if you take me as a husband, you will do yourself little good socially and are sure to upset a great many people. Marriage to me may be a step too far.’

  ‘It is a step I never thought to take,’ she said slowly, but her face had gained colour, the olive skin of her cheeks lit by a slowly spreading inner glow. This morning has brought a miracle, she told herself, and like any miracle it had to be believed rather than reasoned. She could not understand how he had come to this decision, but it was clear that he meant every word he spoke. This was no cruel jest, no mocking overture. He had asked her to marry and all she had to do was say yes.

  ‘You have turned my life upside down—but you are the only man I could ever wed.’

  ‘And…?’

  ‘And if you are truly honest, you have my answer!’

  He held out his arms and she walked into his embrace. For long minutes they remained nestled in each other’s arms while the waves lapped gently in the distance. But then the unwelcome thoughts began arriving.

  ‘What about my father?’

  ‘You haven’t told him that you are not returning to your aunts?

  ‘No, not yet. That would have been difficult enough, but now this!’

  He stroked her arm to still her agitation. ‘It’s easy—we’ll see him together and tell him that we are wishful of marrying.’

  ‘If only it were that simple.’ She hesitated, unsure of how to phrase the unpalatable. ‘Papa is aware of Court gossip. He holds some strong opinions.’

  ‘Don’t let’s sham it. He knows me for a rake and will be horrified that his beloved daughter has chosen to throw her lot in with such a loose fish.’

  ‘So…’

  ‘So I will have to prove him wrong, prove that my inglorious career belongs to the past—that you are now my future.’

  ‘That could take some time.’

  He pulled her towards him again, burying his hands in the tangle of silken curls and lifting her face to his.

  ‘Another year is neither here nor there, my darling.’

  ‘A year!’

  ‘Have patience. Before the time is out my charm offensive will have him begging me to marry you.’

  She smiled a little wanly, a furrow still creasing her brow. ‘There are my aunts, too—they will be completely opposed.’

  ‘Aunts are no problem. I can deal with any number of aunts,’ he said easily.

  ‘You will be very busy, then.’ A smile flitted across her face at the thought of Joshua ‘dealing’ with those fearsome matriarchs. ‘They will do anything to protect my fortune.’

  ‘I have a fortune, too,’ he pointed out. ‘Not, I imagine, of the same magnitude, but still a cool ten thousand a year. Who could want more? You can sign your inheritance over to the aunts and never have a thing to do with it.’

  ‘That still won’t make them happy with the match; I fear they will make sure my father refuses his consent.’

  ‘But if we wait until you are twenty-one, you can marry where you wish.’

  ‘I don’t want to upset Papa,’ she said miserably.

  He hugged her even more tightly, ‘Don’t despair, darling Domino. Let me talk to him, get to know him. Make him see I will look after his little girl.’

  She looked dubious, but Joshua was encouraging. ‘I will invite him to dinner and then the theatre—just the three of us, if you can bear to leave your duenna behind—so that we can at least break the ice.’

  ‘However will you get him to agree?’

  She doubted if anyone could persuade her father to spend an evening with Joshua Marchmain, let alone include his daughter in the arrangement. Yet persuade him Joshua did.

  * * *

  The following Thursday on the stroke of eight, he arrived at Marine Parade in a carriage hired for the evening. As always he looked complete to a shade, satin knee breeches and black tailcoat throwing into relief the dazzling snow of ruffled shirt and cravat, the latter arranged in precise and intricate folds. A silk-lined cloak completed a picture of refinement. But Domino’s choice of dress more than matched his style. A cloud of jonquil gauze over a white satin robe furnished a perfect foil for the ebony curls that framed her lovely young face.

  Her father greeted his host with a stiff little bow, but she curtsied shyly to her lover, giving him her hand with the most mischievous of smiles.

  They were to dine at the Old Ship, the oldest hostelry in Brighton, and one that frequently accommodated the Regent’s guests. Domino had attended a ball at the Ship’s magnificent assembly rooms the previous month and marvelled at the ninety-foot-long ballroom with its spectators’ and musicians’ galleries. But tonight Joshua had bespoken a private parlour, equally luxurious, but a good deal more intimate. He had obviously gone to a great deal of trouble, Domino thought, in planning this evening. Not only was the room he had chosen a perfect backdrop for a congenial dinner, but the meal itself had been carefully ordered to appeal to the tastes of a middle-aged Latin gentleman.

  A modest but delicious repast ensued, beginning with a turtle soup served alongside a series of entrées including the omelettes her father loved. He ate well, but remained chilly and aloof. For a while the talk was general: the beauty of the Sussex landscape, the benefits of sea air, the numbers of dandies parading Brighton’s seafront with their ridiculously padded shoulders and collars so high they were unable to turn their heads. It was not until the serving of a second course of goose, lobster and a braised ham alongside chafing dishes of French beans, peas and asparagus that Señor de Silva made mention of his unexpected invitation.

  He lay back against his chair, sipping a second glass of wine with undoubted pleasure. ‘I must thank you, Mr Marchmain, for a superlative dinner.’

  ‘I am very glad the meal has met with your approval, sir,’ Joshua responded politely. ‘It is always hazardous to order for another at whose tastes you can only guess.’

  ‘Indeed. Would it be discourteous of me to ask why my particular tastes interest you? Why, in fact, you have invited me to accompany you this evening?’

  ‘Not discourteous at all. On the contrary, I find it understandable and very simple to explain. I wish to marry your daughter.’

  The announcement
, quiet and measured as it was, did not prevent Alfredo choking violently on his wine. When he recovered sufficiently to speak, his voice seemed not to belong to him.

  ‘You wish to marry Miss de Silva?’

  ‘I do. I am hopeful of winning your consent and thought it right that we should further our acquaintance as soon as possible.’

  ‘Marry!’ her father repeated. Then, turning to Domino, he said in a voice barely above a whisper, ‘Can this be right, my child?’

  ‘Yes, Papa. I love Joshua. He is the only man who will make me happy.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘I am aware of the misgivings you must have,’ Joshua interrupted smoothly, ‘and naturally I am happy to give, in private, whatever reassurances you need, but Domino and I are quite resolved. We will marry—whether it’s next month or next year.’

  Her father drew himself up proudly, looking every inch the Spanish noble.

  ‘You may not realise it, Mr Marchmain,’ he pronounced haughtily, ‘but my daughter’s choice of husband is of the greatest significance. Through her mother’s family, she will inherit a very large estate when she reaches the age of twenty-one. That may influence your decision.’

  ‘I cannot see how.’

  ‘You would not, I am sure, wish to be seen as a fortune hunter.’

  ‘Papa!’

  ‘You are right, Señor de Silva. I would not. But since Domino’s fortune is neither here nor there, I think it unlikely. I have a considerable inheritance of my own and am more than happy to share it.’

  His cheerful insouciance stung Alfredo. ‘When I said a very large fortune, I doubt you have any idea of its size.’

  ‘Papa, don’t you see?’ Domino felt incensed by her father’s wilful lack of understanding. ‘Neither of us is concerned with my inheritance. Joshua has a splendid country estate of his own and enough money to keep us both in comfort.’

  ‘Not concerned with a massive fortune? What nonsense is this?’ her father spluttered.