by Howe, Cheryl
A louder knock sounded. “Sorry to disturb you Lord Keane but the ladies insisted we wake you.” The familiar sound of Mr. Rudd clearing his throat sent a clear warning that James had better scramble.
“Answer the door before they wake the whole house,” hissed Astra in a loud whisper, dropping her nightgown. She found her robe and quickly slipped into it.
James didn’t spare her a second glance as he ran toward the door. He opened it a crack. He was sure he looked a wreck and hoped they all thought he had been sleeping restlessly instead of ruthlessly fucking Astra.
Lady Phillina stood clutching her maid for support. Astra’s mother, Lady Seabrook, held a tearful Lark, and Mr. Rudd looked extremely uncomfortable in the background.
Lady Phillina blushed and glanced away. Apparently James should have put on a shirt. Or at least button his breeches. He tried to discreetly do so while her head was turned.
“Sorry to disturb you James but it seems that Astra is not in her room and dear little Lark is quite distraught.” Lady Phillina addressed her comments to a desk in the corner. He was almost positive the maid ogled him. Unfortunately, Lady Seabrook did not which worried him more than the maid getting an eyeful.
Lark tried to wiggle from Lady Seabrook’s arms. “I want Mama,” she screamed in her grandmother’s ear.
Lady Seabrook rubbed her back, shifting the girl in her arms. “We will find her, Lark.”
“We won’t. She was kidnapped by the Spriggans when they couldn’t find any babies.” Lark’s earnestness, as ridiculous as it was, tugged at James’s heart. The child laid her head on Lady Seabrook’s shoulder and started to cry.
“I’m here, Lark. It’s all right.” Astra brushed past James and took her daughter from her mother.
No one appeared particularly surprised by Astra’s emergence from his bedroom, except for Lark. The little girl grasped her mother as if she had been missing for a fortnight. James didn’t blame Astra for exposing them. He just felt like a selfish bastard for making the child suffer so he wouldn’t get caught with his pants down. Literally.
“Let’s go into James’s room and discuss this in private. The walls have ears.” Lady Phillina who suddenly seemed to be walking just fine passed James to enter his bedroom without further invitation. James followed wondering if he could discreetly throw the dark blue bed cover over the rumpled sheets. Mr. Rudd shrugged as he walked past James. “I could not stop them, sir,” he said.
After everyone was assembled in James’s bedroom, the maid shut the door. Lark clung to Astra who caressed her daughter’s hair. As miserable as this situation was sure to be, James was moved by the scene and had to stop himself from going to Astra to help her calm her daughter. He’d done enough comforting for one night.
“I came to talk James out of the duel. I’m sorry I worried you all,” Astra said, but it didn’t sound convincing.
“Astra, we have a house full of guests. And you come unescorted to a man’s room? Oh, the talk!” Lady Seabrook dramatically laid her hand on her forehead and so many things came into sharp clarity for James.
“Mary. Could you please take Lark to bed?” Astra’s voice sounded brittle and distant and very far away.
Lark clung to her mother’s neck. “No, Mama.” Dramatic and shrill as her cry was, at least it was authentic.
James was almost lightheaded, experiencing two realities at the same time. In one, he was watching a staged play of himself caught in a compromising position as old as time and in the other he was hearing the tale from Astra mere moments ago. Did she think he was so dense not to see the correlation? Apparently. He tripped into this trap so effortlessly, it would be hard not to think him as manageable as a newborn lamb.
With soft coaxing, Astra persuaded Lark to go along with Mary. After the anteroom door was shut, Lady Phillina closed the bedroom door as well.
“Though I do appreciate your intentions, perhaps you should have brought along a chaperone.” Lady Phillina shook her head sadly. “And I so wanted tonight to liberate the Keane name from the scandalmongers’ tongues, but I suppose it’s not to be.” Her loud sigh proved quite theatrical.
James narrowed his gaze on Lady Phillina. Was she a party to his demise as well?
Astra clutched her thin robe which only emphasized the fact that she had nothing on underneath. “My apologies, Lady Phillina. Under the circumstances, I pray you can understand what compelled me to disregard common decorum and seek out James. I had to persuade him not to accept Lord Blackmore’s challenge at all costs.”
As if the item had been strategically placed as a stage prop, Astra’s mother strolled to the crumpled nightgown Astra had tossed aside and scooped it up. “And did part of your persuasion involve removing your nightgown?” Always a flare for the dramatic, Lady Seabrook held the gown by the corner so the wet streaks across the thin material were clearly visible in the candlelight, then dropped it. He shouldn’t be shocked but the display almost made him gasp in horror as it did Astra and Lady Phillina.
“Oh dear,” Lady Phillina said. “Oh, James.”
“I think there is only one conceivable solution for this sort of transgression.” Lady Seabrook dropped the gown.
Her mother’s words transported Astra to a day she could never forget no matter how hard she tried. Amazingly, this moment was worse, something she could never believe life would be cruel enough to duplicate. Lady Phillina hobbled to one of the chairs where she and James had shared brandy and settled into it. Her gaze remained locked on Astra, sympathetic, sad and knowing all at the same time. Astra dared a glance at James. His eyes were hooded, his jaw tense, his muscular arms folded over his chest. James stared into the growing fire someone had started, perhaps Mr. Rudd, as if he intended to crawl into it just to spite them all.
“I intend to take Lark to Charlotte Spencer’s estate for an extended visit.” Astra’s voice sounded higher than usual. At least she’d managed to get something past her tight throat. “I could leave with Charlotte and her new husband tomorrow.”
Her mother’s smug smile drooped. Astra’s heart fell when James gave her declaration no reaction at all. Had she really expected him to gallantly offer to marry her on the spot? Good God, she had. Tears burned her eyes but she swallowed them down without choking.
“Leave?” Lady Phillina sank further into the cushions of the high-backed chair, visibly shrinking under the strain. “I’ve hardly recovered and I can’t bear to have Lark away in the event I turn for the worse. If you take her away I might pass on without ever seeing her again. I need some tea. Mary…I’m feeling lightheaded,” she called out, apparently forgetting Mary had left the room.
Mr. Rudd emerged from the shadows. “I’ll fetch your tea, my lady,” he said as he hurried from the room without a backwards glance.
After the door was solidly shut, Astra’s mother picked up her nightgown once again and sauntered to Astra with the stained garment. “And what if you begin to grow while visiting Cousin Charlotte, what then?” She handed Astra her nightgown. “The servants will see this. They’ll know.”
“A baby? Astra, are you with child?” Lady Phillina straightened at the idea. “If you are with child, you must stay here. I won’t have a Keane born off the premises.”
“I’m not with child,” she struggled to say.
“How do you know? Are you sure?” her mother said. “What have you to say for yourself, Lord Keane?”
She glanced at James. He knew she had forced one man’s child on another. Perhaps he was thinking she would do that to him.
“I want you all to leave so Astra and I can discuss this in private.”
Her mother laughed. “Oh, I think you have done quite enough in private. I know you are new to our ways, James, but when a man ruins a lady—”
“Ruined?” James said, an edge in his voice that was by far the worst part of this dreadful conversation yet. “Astra bore a child. She’s no virgin. And since she’s not married to another, no laws have been broken, or chastity
ruined, my dear Lady Seabrook.”
“But there will be talk,” Lady Phillina added.
“There would not have been if you two had not barged in here,” James said, his voice growing louder. Oh, but there would be talk. Even if they could trust their own servants to be silent, some of the guests had brought their own help. And the help always knew everything.
“Lark was upset,” her mother said, indignant.
“I’m guessing you’re the one who upset her,” Astra said, her irate tone suddenly matching James’s. “No doubt you woke her and terrified her on purpose. I’ll not forgive you for that, Mother.”
“Enough,” James said. “Astra did come to talk me out of the duel. Which she failed in doing. And since dawn will arrive sooner than later, I would like to get some sleep before the big event.”
Astra stared at her feet and tried to stop trembling. There seemed nothing she could say to James to persuade him to forgive her before dawn reared its ugly head. Perhaps there was nothing she could say to persuade him to forgive her ever.
“But this is not settled,” shrieked her mother. She obviously was determined to wake the whole house.
“It is settled.” Astra tried to keep her voice even, refusing to slide into hysterics, making this horrible scene worse for James. “James will fight his duel and Lark and I will leave Eastlan tomorrow. As will you, Mother.”
“I’m not going to Kent.” Her mother tightened the belt on her embroidered robe. “Charlotte married a dairy farmer. He’s not even noble.”
“I don’t care where you go,” Astra said, wishing she had said it years ago.
“I will retire to my bed and never rise again if anyone goes,” Phillina said. “Where is my tea?”
“No one is going anywhere except back to their own rooms.” James strolled to the door and opened it. “If I survive the duel, we can announce Astra’s and my engagement tomorrow. If I die, well, then that will occupy people’s need for gossip instead.”
“James, you don’t have to do this.” Astra turned to him but the distance in his gaze made her wish she hadn’t.”
“There is a good chance I’m not going to live past tomorrow, so it all might be a mute point. Either way, the subject is closed for discussion.” He remained unnaturally still, his hands crossed over his chest.
Her mother strode quickly to Lady Phillina and helped her out of the chair. “Let’s leave these two lovebirds alone.”
“James, I knew you would do the honorable thing. I’m so proud of you.” Lady Phillina made her way to James and kissed his cheek. He bent stiffly to accept the contact, but quickly straightened. “Be safe tomorrow. I have no doubt that your courage will be a tribute to the Keane name.”
“Thank you, Lady Phillina,” James said but the usual warmth he showed with the elder Keane was missing.
Astra wanted to escape with her mother and Phillina, but knew she must stay and face James.
Once the other women were gone, James confronted Astra with an assessing gaze. “When did you tell your mother about our affair?”
“I didn’t, though it was her suggestion in the first place. She suspected our attraction before we ever acted upon it.” Astra clasped her hands in front of her, trying to mimic his placid demeanor.
“So you had me set up from the beginning? Did the duel shake up your plans? Force you to rush things a bit. I had no idea, you know. I actually thought I might be falling in love with you entirely of my own accord.”
Astra briefly closed her eyes and struggled to breathe. He had been falling in love with her. “Surely you don’t believe I would use Lark in that way.”
“I don’t know what to believe, Astra.” He strode to the mantle and consulted the clock. “Except that I have to fight a duel in three hours.” He blew out the candles. “I’m getting some sleep.”
“You don’t have to marry me.” Astra tried to straighten, to sound strong instead of breaking into a thousand pieces. The intimate cover of darkness only made things worse. He had been falling in love with her.
He turned to face her. “You know, I have some moral values of my own.” He seemed angry now, squaring his shoulders, flexing muscles in his bare chest she was sure he didn’t mean to. She couldn’t see his gaze but she certainly could feel the contempt there. “Some sense of right and wrong that isn’t manufactured by what you call society. Do you?”
“I never intended to trap you like this James.” She tightened her clasped hands, wanting to touch him but knowing she couldn’t.
“Then how did you intend to trap me?”
“I love you.”
He stared at her a moment like he wanted to believe her, but shook his head and laughed instead. “You have ruined your credibility, Astra. I will do the right, honorable thing, because it is the right and honorable thing. But if you turn up with child shortly after the wedding, I won’t accept it lightly.”
Astra covered her mouth, her hurt too deep for words. She would not cry and plead for his forgiveness. How could she? Even she found it implausible that she had not been involved in what had occurred tonight. “I’m sorry, James. Be safe tomorrow.”
She turned and left the room determined to find a way to call off the duel. James was too true to his word to back out of the fight or their wedding. And in having her faith in James Keane confirmed, he’d sentenced Astra to a life of misery. At least if he had refused to marry her, she could have learned to hate him. Now, she would only be able to love him while knowing she had destroyed all hope of the sentiment being returned.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
James stood in the damp field, a hazy blue dawn giving way to the morning sun creeping across a border of trees. Though he tried to focus on Rudd’s instructions, Astra’s betrayal gnawing at his gut made the idea of being shot seem not so bad.
He glanced across the mist drifting from the wet grass to see Blackmore taking another swig from a flask. Blackmore’s second, Reverend Fitzgerald of all people, apparently Blackmore’s nephew, had tried to talk James into calling the duel off, and almost succeeded. But Blackmore had opened his mouth and ruined the reverend’s efforts.
“She makes you forget about honor. Makes you forget everything but her. You must have been an easy mark for her. Never had a whore with skin so soft, or so passionate. And even though you know what she is, you like it. Like being played for a fool.”
Though James knew Blackmore had been talking about Ivy, he still wanted to kill him with such intensity it kept him from moving. His words fit James’s situation too perfectly. James hadn’t slept after Astra left his room. He was too consumed in trying to find a way that the entrapment wasn’t her fault and he hated himself for it. Maybe she didn’t know that her mother would barge into his room, but she certainly knew she had been leading him a merry chase from the beginning. Had he been actually going to dismiss doing business with Bainbridge just to make Astra happy?
“Listen up, lad. This is your life we are talking about here.”
James turned his attention to Mr. Rudd who’d arrived at his room well before dawn insisting he be his second. The early morning shadows began to lift as the sky turned from pink to yellow bringing the scene into awful clarity. Mr. Rudd didn’t think James was going to survive. He could tell by the look in his hard eyes.
“Blackmore’s too drunk to shoot,” James glanced at his opponent who was arguing with Fitzgerald over his flask. Blackmore tried to swing it from Fitzgerald’s reach and almost fell over his feet, getting tangled in his long overcoat.
“He’s always drunk. He’s used to it.” Mr. Rudd straightened his jacket.
Reverend Fitzgerald strode toward their direction and James feared he finally had succeeded in talking Blackmore out of the duel. The idea disappointed James because he was not ready to return to Eastlan to face his battle with Astra. That he wouldn’t just admit to Blackmore that it was Astra who he thought the man had insulted instead of Ivy, only proved how much of a dupe James continued to be. Blackmore was too d
runk to listen anyway.
“He won’t change his mind and if you won’t. We should begin before someone finds out we aren’t meeting behind the tavern. They’ll come looking here once it gets light,” Fitzgerald said.
“I’m ready.” James marched toward Blackmore and the man did the same, a little too steady and determined for James’s taste.
Mr. Rudd followed behind. “Now, remember what I said. Aim higher than you think because—”
“Just makes sure the pistol is loaded properly. I’ll do the rest.”
Once James faced off Blackmore, he noted that the man seemed to sober considerably. He looked James straight in the eye.
“Do you love her?”
“Afraid so,” James said, surprised he didn’t even hesitate.
“Then I’m doing you a favor.”
James nodded, knowing that Blackmore was the one who desperately needed the favor.
“Enough chitty-chat unless you two want to be hauled in front of the magistrate,” Mr. Rudd said. “Since there is just the four of us, I’m going to let the reverend do the counting off since he’s a man of the cloth. All agreed?”
James nodded and he assumed Blackmore did the same. Or perhaps he spoke because suddenly time had slowed down for James, his focus inward.
“Back to back. Pace off on my count. One.”
James took a giant step, wanting to put as much space as possible between he and Blackmore. The pistols lost much of their aim at a large distance. James was no marksman and figured Blackmore missing was his best chance at survival.
“Two.”
James took in a glimpse of the meadow, startled how the dew reflected the light. He thought of the time in the gazebo with Astra and wondered if there could be more of those times if he lived through this. Could he ever trust her again?
“Five.”