Disgrace and Desire

by Sarah Mallory

  ‘Well, you need not be afraid. You can still walk away.’

  He looked up. ‘That is not what I meant.’

  He watched, bemused, as she made an attempt to find a way into her gown, but the flimsy material seemed to defeat her. Impatiently she threw it aside and pulled his banyan from the bed. The silk wrap was much too big and it pooled around her feet. She looked absurdly young and vulnerable.

  ‘I know exactly what you meant, Major Clifton.’ She threw the words at him as she tied the belt around her with angry, jerking movements. ‘It was never my intention to entrap you. I am only sorry that I confided the truth to you, although no doubt you would have realised it soon enough. The evidence on the sheets will be all too plain in the daylight!’ She ran to the door.

  ‘No—Eloise—wait!’

  But she was gone.

  Chapter Eleven

  Eloise sped through the dim corridors and down the stairs, scarcely aware of the cold boards beneath her bare feet. She dared not cry and held back her tears until she was safely inside her own room with the door locked, then she threw herself on to the bed and gave way to harsh, gasping sobs that racked her body.

  She had been a fool to give herself to Jack Clifton. It was mere weakness to blame the excitement of the night and her anxiety over Alex for her inability to keep the man at arm’s length. He had despised her when he had thought her wanton, and he thought even less of her now he knew it was all a charade. It was very lowering to know that he had thought her easy prey, someone to tumble into bed for a few nights’ amusement, but his reaction when she had told him she was a virgin was even more upsetting. He was outraged, as if she had deceived him on purpose. She beat her fists against the covers. Did he think she wanted to trick him into marriage? Hah! She would show him! He was nothing but a rake, a low rascal, and she would have nothing more to do with him.

  At length her sobs abated and she lay exhausted on the covers, only the occasional hiccup interrupting her misery. She had felt so comfortable in his arms, so right. She had spent years listening to her married friends, smiling and nodding as if she quite understood when they complained of how tiresome it was to have to pleasure one’s husband, or giggled over the attributes of their latest lover, but until today she had never known just how exciting and enjoyable it was to be swept up by a man, to be kissed and caressed and…and loved until one’s whole being was convulsed with pleasure. More tears squeezed themselves between her closed eyelids. If only it had been someone other than Major Clifton!

  Eloise pulled the banyan around her. The silk was cool against her skin, and in its folds she could smell the distinctive fragrance that was Jack Clifton. It was like being in his arms again. With a petulant cry she threw off the wrap and slid naked between the cold sheets of her bed. She had told Alice not to wait up for her, and the hot brick her maid had placed in the bottom of the bed was now a cool, hard lump and no comfort at all. Eloise reached out for the banyan and pulled it into the bed with her. Tomorrow she would be cold and distant when dealing with Major Clifton, but for the few hours that were left of the night she hugged the silk to her, curling her body around it. As sleep closed in and her acute unhappiness mellowed into a dull and aching despair, she found herself thinking that there was one tiny crumb of comfort to be found in all this: even if she was forced to marry Sir Ronald Deforge to secure the return of the journal, at least she would not be giving him her virginity.

  A soft scuffling at the door roused Eloise. She lay, tense and alert beneath the covers, listening. Her straining ears detected the slight sound of footsteps padding away along the corridor. It was still dark, but the shutters of her window had not been closed and the faint glimmer of moonlight penetrated the room, leaving only the far corners in deep shadow. For the first time she noticed the pale shape of her nightgown spread out across the bottom of the bed and she quickly pulled it on, shivering a little as the cold cotton slid over her skin. Then she reached for her tinderbox. Once her bedside candle was alight she slipped out of bed and went to the door. It opened almost silently and she peeped out into the empty corridor. Looking down, she saw a grey bundle lying at her feet. She scooped it up, carrying it into the room. It was her cloak, still muddy and a little damp from her nocturnal ramblings. Wrapped inside it she found the rest of her clothes—shoes, stockings, her chemise and stays, the thin muslin gown with its muddy hem and traces of Alex’s blood on the front. It was all there, except the embroidered ribbon garters. She chewed her lip. It was possible that Major Clifton had overlooked them, but she doubted it. She thought of his handkerchief, lying hidden at the bottom of her drawer. Perhaps it was a fair exchange.

  The talk the next day was all about the poachers who had so savagely attacked Mr Mortimer. Alice informed her mistress of the news when she brought in her hot chocolate that morning.

  ‘I have no idea what you and Mr Alex got up to last night and I don’t want to know,’ the maid told her mendaciously, ‘but when Mr Farrell announced this morning that poor Mr Alex was at death’s door it was as much as I could do to keep my lips sealed—and if I hadn’t peeped in and seen you sleeping so peacefully before I went down to the kitchen I think I should have run straight back upstairs to make sure you was in your bed! And now I finds this.’ The maid picked up the crumpled gown and held it out. ‘Don’t you try to tell me that’s mud on your skirts, Miss Elle, because I know very well it’s bloodstains.’

  ‘Well, it is not all blood,’ put in Eloise, sipping at her chocolate. ‘There are grass stains as well, where I fell on my knees beside Mr Mortimer.’

  Alice gave a gusty sigh and shook her head.

  ‘Oh, my dear lady, I knew I should have waited up for you last night—’

  ‘And you know I ordered you to go to bed,’ retorted Eloise. ‘You would have been very much in the way. Now do stop scolding me, Alice, and tell me instead how Mr Mortimer goes on. Has Farrell sent for the doctor?’

  ‘No, ma’am: it seems Major Clifton bound up his wounds.’ The maid shot a fierce, searching look at her mistress. ‘Just what happened last night, Miss Elle? You told me you and Mr Mortimer was going out to put an end to those horrible letters that have been upsetting you.’

  ‘And so we were, Alice.’ Eloise hesitated, regarding her maid over the rim of her cup. Alice had been with her since she was a child, and it was impossible to snub her. Eloise never doubted her loyalty, but she dare not take her fully into her confidence. ‘Unfortunately the man attacked Mr Alex. He drew a sword upon him, although Alex was unarmed.’

  ‘Oh, mercy me, the villain!’

  ‘Quite. Thankfully Major Clifton was in the gardens and helped me to carry Mr Alex back into the house.’

  ‘Then we should inform the magistrate, my lady, and set up a hue and cry for the culprit!’

  ‘That would cause far too much of a scandal, Alice, you must see that.’

  The maid sniffed.

  ‘There would certainly be a scandal if anyone was to know that you had been running around the country at night with Mr Alex!’ She looked again at the gown, then picked up her muddy slippers. ‘And what am I suppose to do with these? Ruined, just like your gown and your stockings! And all left on the floor for me to fall over! You should not have had to undress yourself, madam: if I had been here when you came in last night I could have taken these away and cleaned them, but now the dirt is so dried on there will be no getting it out.’

  ‘No, I think you should dispose of the gown and the slippers,’ said Eloise. ‘But do it discreetly, Alice.’

  The maid snorted. ‘Do you think I would take these things down to the servants’ hall and announce to all and sundry that my mistress was gallivanting the night away?’

  Despite her heavy heart, Eloise smiled. ‘No, of course not. I am very sorry to be so troublesome, truly I am. There is something else.’ She pulled the silk wrap from under the bedclothes and held it out, saying airily, ‘This needs to be returned to Major Clifton.’ She observed Alice’s shocked count
enance and looked away, her cheeks growing hot. ‘I was very chilled when we came back last night…’

  Alice reached out and took the banyan, holding it at arm’s length as if it was some contaminated rag instead of a very costly and fashionable item of a gentleman’s wardrobe.

  ‘Well, I never did!’ exclaimed the maid. ‘So you put this on over your gown? Ooh, Miss Elle, if anyone had seen you!’

  ‘Well, they did not see me,’ replied Eloise, her cheeks very hot. ‘So see that it is returned to Major Clifton, if you please, and leave me to drink my chocolate in peace!’

  Later, when she helped her mistress to dress, Alice was still muttering about the heathenish ways of the Quality. Eloise made no attempt to stop her, knowing her handmaid would talk herself back into a good mood all the sooner if she was allowed to have her say.

  Thus Eloise was prepared for the talk and consternation of the party when she joined everyone in the breakfast room later that morning and she was able to assume a suitable expression of shock when Mr Renwick’s sister greeted her with the news of the attack.

  ‘Poachers,’ exclaimed Mrs Briggate, ‘and in the park, too! I do hope, brother, that you will take precautions to secure the house.’

  ‘I have already done so, sister.’

  Mr Renwick’s response was calm and reassuring.

  ‘How is Mr Mortimer?’ asked Eloise as she took her seat at the table.

  ‘Very poorly, but Major Clifton says his life is not in danger,’ replied Mrs Renwick. ‘It was Major Clifton who found Mr Mortimer and he has been looking after him.’

  ‘He is with him now,’ added her husband, ‘I have told him he has only to say the word and a man shall ride for the doctor immediately, but he does not seem to think it necessary at present.’

  Sir Ronald had sauntered into the room and he said softly, ‘The question is, what took Mortimer into the grounds at night in the first place?’

  Eloise wrapped her hands around her coffee cup and tried to ignore his sly look.

  ‘Perhaps he likes those horrid little cigarillos that are so popular with the gentlemen today,’ said Mrs Renwick.

  ‘That would certainly explain what Clifton was doing in the gardens,’ put in Edward Graham. ‘Doubtless he picked up the habit while he was in the army.’

  ‘Don’t know what these young fellows should want with those things,’ barked Mr Briggate. ‘What’s wrong with snuff, I should like to know? Good enough for m’father.’

  Eloise glanced at the brown stains around his nostrils and suppressed a shudder.

  ‘Or a pipe,’ put in Mrs Renwick. ‘I remember my father enjoyed a pipe of tobacco of an evening. I always thought it smelled quite delicious.’

  ‘Yes, yes, this is all very well, but we are straying from the point,’ put in Mrs Briggate with a nervous glance around the table. ‘What is to be done about the poachers?’

  ‘We will do what we have always done, sister.’ Mr Renwick smiled at her. ‘I shall put extra men into the grounds today, and tonight we will let the dogs loose, so I would warn all of you to remain indoors after dark.’

  ‘We are shooting today, are we not, Renwick?’ asked Edward Graham. ‘Perhaps we can bag a few of the rascals for ourselves.’

  There was general laughter at this, and the gentlemen soon went off to prepare for their day’s sport. Mrs Renwick carried the ladies off to the morning room and Eloise slipped away. She was anxious to see Alex and since the back stairs were deserted she quickly ran up to the bachelor wing and scratched upon the door.

  ‘My lady! You cannot come in here!’

  Eloise pushed past Farrell, ignoring his half-hearted attempts to deny her.

  ‘It is my fault your master is injured and I must know how he is,’ she said, walking into the room.

  Alex was propped up in his bed, looking very pale. He raised his brows when he saw her.

  ‘Go away, Elle. You should not be here. What if the servants see you?’

  ‘They will not, for I am very careful. Besides, it does not matter if they do,’ she said bitterly. ‘It will merely add to my reputation. I had to find out how you go on.’

  ‘I feel devilish,’ he muttered. ‘I have a neat hole in my shoulder which is a little sore but the cut on my leg will keep in bed for a week at least. I suppose I should be thankful it is no worse.’ He frowned suddenly. ‘Farrell tells me you and Clifton put me to bed.’

  She flushed.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Damnation, Eloise, there was no need for that!’

  ‘Yes, there was. It needed two of us to undress you and Farrell had to fetch the bandages.’

  ‘You should have made some excuse and left the room.’

  She had been thinking much the same thing, but at the time she had wanted to stay, and Jack’s calm assumption that she would not be shocked by the sight of a man’s body had allowed her to override her scruples. She realised now that it had only added to his conviction that she was a woman of the world.

  She said quietly, ‘I wanted to help.’

  ‘But, good heavens, Elle, what will Clifton think?’

  ‘I neither know nor care what the major thinks,’ she retorted. ‘He is an odious man.’

  She looked away from Alex’s searching gaze.

  ‘Quarrelled again, have you?’

  ‘Of course not. But I beg you will not confide in him. Do not tell him anything more about us. I do not trust him.’

  ‘Well, I think you should. Jack is sound enough, my dear.’

  Eloise pressed her lips together and hoped she was not scowling. So it was Jack now, was it? Alex put a hand to his shoulder.

  ‘He made a capital job of binding me up, and he was here first thing this morning, checking the bandages. You’ve no need to worry about Clifton.’

  ‘Did I hear my name?’

  Eloise whipped round as Major Clifton came into the room. Her face flamed but he gave her no more than a nod as he walked towards the bed.

  As if we were no more than acquaintances, she thought. As if he had forgotten what happened last night.

  She bit her lip, knowing that she was being uncharitable. Perhaps he was trying to spare her blushes.

  ‘Aye, we were talking of you.’ Alex held out his hand to him, grinning. ‘I was telling my lady what a good sawbones you would make.’

  ‘One picks up a little knowledge in the army.’ Jack gave Eloise a half-smile but she turned away, determined not to respond. ‘Lady Allyngham nursed you, too, you know.’

  ‘And I am very grateful to you both. But, Elle, now you can see that I am getting better I do wish you would go away: we are not related, my dear, and there will be the devil to pay if you are found here.’

  ‘You should have thought that way last night before you went off together to meet Deforge,’ growled Jack.

  ‘That was different.’ Alex shifted uncomfortably. ‘No one was meant to know about that.’ He glanced at Eloise. ‘What are they saying downstairs?’

  ‘That it was poachers. I saw Sir Ronald this morning.’ She shuddered. ‘I could hardly bear to sit still at the breakfast table, for he was smiling in the slyest manner.’

  ‘The devil he was! When I am back on my feet I shall take a pistol to the villain!’

  ‘When you are back on your feet you may of course do what you wish,’ replied Jack. ‘But for now you must rest. I’ve sent your man down to fetch you some breakfast.’

  Even as he spoke, Jack was very aware of the lady standing silently beside the bed. She looked so pale and forlorn that guilt wrenched at his insides. If only he could go back and unsay his hasty words of last night. He was furious with himself for his outburst. From the little he had overheard when he walked into the room he was sure she had not told Mortimer what had occurred, so he would follow her lead and say nothing, at least when they were in company.

  He needed to talk to her, to explain his behaviour, but that was not possible here, with Alex Mortimer looking on. He was not at all sure that it wa
s possible under any conditions. How could he make her understand just how he had felt, after the most glorious, the most fulfilling lovemaking he had ever known, to discover that she was still a maid? He had been shocked, mortified to think he had not known. True, she had responded to him, matched his passion with her own but that was no excuse. He was not inexperienced and he was horrified to think he had been so insensitive to her. She had thought his annoyance was directed towards her and by the time he had collected his dazed wits she had gone, fled back to her room. Unable to rest he had collected her cloak, wrapped up her discarded clothes and deposited them at her door. He hoped she would know from that gesture that he intended to be discreet, that he meant her no harm. Until he could find a way to talk to her privately, it was all he could do.

  Mortimer was pulling angrily at the bedcovers.

  ‘Breakfast! I had rather you sent Farrell with a challenge to Deforge!’ He glowered. ‘He has gone too far this time. I won’t have it, Elle. I say let him publish and be damned to him, we’ll fight!’

  Jack looked up quickly. ‘Why, what is Sir Ronald demanding?’

  As Alex opened his mouth to speak, Eloise put up her hand, saying icily, ‘Major Clifton is no longer party to our plans, Alex.’

  ‘Gammon! If Jack had not rescued us last night we would have been in the devil of a fix!’ Alex turned his angry eyes towards him. ‘Deforge wants Eloise for his wife.’

  ‘The devil he does!’ Jack could not prevent the exclamation, nor the sudden, intense surge of possessiveness. No wonder she had looked so frightened when he had told her of his suspicions about Deforge. He wanted to gather her up in his arms but he knew that if he made any move towards her she would run away from him. Despite the fear he could see in her eyes, she bravely put up her chin.