Joanna Maitland

by Rakes Reward

  It was impossible to know. Just as it had been impossible not to respond to today’s urgently worded request that Marina call on Lady Stratton as soon as possible. Her ladyship had even sent the Stratton carriage to sit at the Dowager’s door, to await Marina’s convenience.

  She was in no doubt about why she had been invited. The request had come in the name of Lady Stratton, to be sure, but it must have originated with the lady’s brother-in-law. Kit Stratton knew—as did his brother—that Lord Luce’s allegations about Kit and Miss Blaine were totally without foundation. The Earl had no grounds for demanding that Kit should marry Miss Blaine. But Marina was the only person who could prove it.

  Marina took a deep breath and mounted the steps. The door swung open just as she reached for the knocker. She was expected. Replying mechanically to the butler’s greeting, she followed him up to Lady Stratton’s drawing room without another word. Her brain was too full of questions. What could she say to Lady Stratton, who had been so very kind to her? What about Sir Hugo, who knew the real truth? Lady Luce might be absolutely sure that Kit would not be forced into marriage with Tilly Blaine, but what if she were wrong?

  Marina lifted her chin resolutely when she reached the upper landing. She had been taught to be honest and to have consideration for others. In this situation, however, such simple rules would not suffice, for she could not save one party without harming the other. She was sorry for Tilly Blaine, but the only way to save the girl’s reputation would be to sacrifice Kit. And Marina was not prepared to do that. It was not a matter of love. Absolutely not, for love was buried. It was a matter of honour.

  ‘Miss Beaumont, m’lady.’

  Lady Stratton hurried forward to take Marina’s hand. She looked less composed than usual, but at least she was alone. Marina had been expecting—and dreading—a meeting with one or other of the Stratton men.

  ‘Thank you for coming so promptly, my dear. The Dowager made no difficulty?’

  ‘No, ma’am. She…she is much absorbed in domestic matters at present. And she is promised to a card party this evening. She said that she had no need of me.’

  ‘Good. I would not wish to inconvenience her in any way. Will you not be seated? Do take off your bonnet and be comfortable. I will ring for some tea.’

  Marina did as she was bid, wondering what was coming next.

  She did not have long to wait. The tea tray was delivered by an impassive butler—followed by Mr Kit Stratton.

  ‘Miss Beaumont,’ he said formally, bowing.

  Marina’s throat was so dry that she could not speak. She managed to incline her head.

  ‘Miss Beaumont, I trust you will forgive me,’ said Lady Stratton, colouring a little, ‘but I find that I am again required to leave you to consult with my husband. So very tedious, is it not? But I know that I can depend on you to do the honours on my behalf.’ She whisked herself out of the room almost before Marina had time to draw breath to reply.

  She was alone with Kit Stratton. Again! And he was looking down at her with eyes full of accusation.

  ‘Cream and sugar, Mr Stratton?’ asked Marina. Her voice was a croak.

  ‘Indeed, ma’am. I have not changed my habits since yesterday.’

  He was not about to make this interview an easy one, but Marina did not feel she had grounds for complaint. He probably wanted to strangle her for what she had done. Being a gentleman, he would confine himself to wounding her with words.

  She handed him his cup. She did not smile. Nor did she speak.

  The silence was broken at last when he said, ‘I take it that you are aware, ma’am, that Lord Luce called upon me today?’ He waited for her nod before continuing. ‘And you are aware of the details of his errand?’

  She nodded again. There was nothing she could say.

  ‘Good. That makes our discussion that much easier.’ He paused, replaced his cup carefully on the tray and turned in his chair so that he could look directly into her eyes. ‘I need to be sure, Miss Beaumont. You do not intend to intervene in any way in this matter?’

  That sounded very much like an accusation to Marina’s ears. Did he really believe that she would remain silent while he was forced into a loveless marriage? Was that what he thought of her? How could it be that she loved a man who believed her to be so base?

  She stared back into those blue eyes, refusing to drop her gaze. She would prove that she was no coward. ‘Mr Stratton,’ she said in a low, determined voice, ‘I may be poor, but I am not without honour. It was not possible for me to reveal the truth to Lord Luce this morning—’ she fancied she saw a momentary gleam in his eye at that ‘—but I have every intention of telling him at the first opportunity. The Dowager—I have no doubt—will ensure that this scandalous rumour is exposed for the falsehood that it is.’

  His eyes narrowed. That fleeting gleam—if it had ever been there—was long gone. He now looked absolutely furious. Marina fought against her natural desire to shrink from him.

  He reached out and clasped her wrist in a grip so tight it was almost painful. ‘Miss Beaumont, you will allow me to tell you that you are a fool. You would announce to the world that you had private meetings with the worst rake in London—twice. Just what do you expect to achieve? Mmm? Other than your own ruin, of course.’

  Marina felt as if his words were blows, battering her defenceless body.

  His merciless attack was not over. His grip tightened on her flesh. ‘Do you think to save Miss Blaine from disgrace by your admission? You are too late for that, my girl. She has all but announced to the world that she is M.B.’

  ‘No! She could not have—’

  ‘I have it from her godfather’s own lips, Miss Beaumont. Would you have me call him a liar?’

  ‘No, but—’

  ‘I am glad you spare me that, at least. Now,’ he said, pulling her a little closer, ‘you will listen to me. I have given Lord Luce my answer. The matter is decided. You will not say a word about your part in it, neither to the Dowager nor to anyone else. Your story would change nothing, but it would certainly brand you as yet another of Kit Stratton’s misguided mistresses.’

  ‘But—’ She tried to struggle free. He must not be allowed to go through with this.

  He reached out his free hand and placed a finger gently across her lips. ‘Be quiet, Marina, and listen to me. Do you never do as you are told?’

  That single touch changed everything. She could not utter a word. Though his strong hand gripped her frail wrist bones as fiercely as ever, that finger was resting on her mouth with the delicacy of a butterfly. She felt a sudden overwhelming urge to taste his skin.

  Something must have shown in her face, for his hold on her wrist relaxed a fraction. His free hand left her mouth to stroke a stray curl away from her cheek, but his finger did not return to her lips. She closed her eyes to hide the longing that filled her at the loss of his touch.

  ‘You will return to Yorkshire quite soon. In a week or so. You will say that you no longer need to be employed as a companion, since your brother is to receive a rich living. That is true enough, though it cannot now be at Stratton Magna. I could not allow— It might give rise to…difficulties if you were living on my estate.’

  ‘Your estate! It is your living?’

  ‘I shall arrange for it to be exchanged for another,’ Kit said coolly.

  In that moment, all Marina’s longings were overtaken by a desire to strike his haughty face. He was calmly arranging her life—and her family’s—without permitting her to say a word. And it was quite obvious that he was determined to allow himself to be blackmailed into marriage with Tilly Blaine. Stupid, arrogant—

  ‘I see,’ she said angrily. ‘I collect that I am now permitted to speak? How very kind of you, Mr Stratton.’ She jumped to her feet, wrenching her wrist from his grasp with a tiny mew of pain. ‘Then you will allow me to tell you that I have absolutely no intention of taking orders from you, sir. Tilly Blaine is a fool, and dishonest, to boot, if she thinks to
secure a husband by such lies. I shall tell the truth, to anyone who will listen. And if it should ruin my reputation…I have only myself to blame. Everything that happened was my own doing. And I am more than prepared to face the consequences of my actions. What is more—’

  She was given no chance to continue. Kit seized her by the shoulders and shook her, hard. Her eyes widened in shock. Then he took her into his arms, and looked deeply into her eyes. ‘Marina, you are, without doubt, the most courageous, and the most exasperating woman I have ever met.’

  And then he kissed her. It was a kiss of anger, and of ruthless power. She knew it was intended to prove how weak she was, to show her that she could not stand against him.

  She knew it. And yet she wanted to yield to him. The touch of his lips renewed the encounters of her dreams, when he had come to her in love and gentleness. Her body yearned for him. In spite of everything.

  She was a fool!

  ‘No!’ she cried, pushing him away with all her strength as he raised his hand to her hair. ‘No! I will not be a pawn in your games, Mr Stratton! Even a plain companion has a conscience, sir, and I intend to obey mine. Good day to you.’ She grabbed her bonnet and ran out of the room without giving him the opportunity to say another word.

  For perhaps the first time in his life, Kit was completely at a loss. At first, he could think of nothing but the proud set of her head as she fled from him. He had abused her…again. Where Marina Beaumont was concerned, his vaunted powers over women seemed to vanish. He had brutally restrained her, he had shaken her almost until her teeth rattled, and then he had kissed her as if he wanted to punish her. For what? For daring to stand up to him? For offering to sacrifice herself to save him from marriage to the dreadful Miss Blaine?

  He must do something…or Marina would be ruined. She was a paragon, a woman in a thousand, and she would be cast down into the mire for trying to defend him.

  He must find a way of stopping her.

  His flight would not save her. Only her own silence could do that. And she would not remain silent while she believed she could stop him from marrying Tilly Blaine.

  He slumped down into his chair and tried to think rationally. It took a long time, but eventually an answer came. It was far from palatable.

  Marriage.

  Society required him to offer for Tilly Blaine. Once their forthcoming marriage had been made public, nothing—nothing—could prevent it. Marina could surely be brought to realise that her confession would be useless. She was bound to agree to keep silent.

  Provided his marriage had already been announced.

  He shook his head despairingly. A week ago, he would not have believed it possible. He, Kit Stratton—the rake who had sworn he would never be shackled to any woman—no longer cared whether he was forced into marriage or not.

  Kit crossed to Emma’s little writing desk in the corner of the room. He would swallow his stiff-necked pride and demand—no, request—an urgent interview with Lord Luce.

  And at that interview, he would offer marriage to Miss Tilly Blaine.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Almost tripping in her haste, Marina hurried down the stairs in response to the Dowager’s summons. Lord Luce had called on his mama yet again, probably to gloat about his meeting with Kit Stratton. Now was Marina’s chance to convince the Earl that he was wrong about his goddaughter and Kit Stratton. There might still be time to prevent the announcement of the engagement.

  The Earl glanced up in annoyance when Marina entered the room but, for once, he said nothing. Perhaps he had realised, at last, that his protests would merely inflame his mother’s temper more than ever.

  ‘And so I was right,’ said the Dowager with satisfaction, paying no attention at all to Marina’s arrival.

  ‘Not precisely, Mama,’ said the Earl. ‘It is true that young Stratton acted just as you predicted when I called on him yesterday. Refused point blank to recognise his obligations to the gel. Challenged me to do my worst. Dam…dashed impudent, too.’

  The Dowager began to look very pleased with herself.

  Marina could not believe her ears. He couldn’t have! He was going to marry Tilly Blaine. Had he not said so, just yesterday? Lord Luce must have misunderstood…somehow.

  ‘After discussing the matter with Lady Blaine, we…I decided to give the fellow a little time to reflect before I took any action.’

  ‘Hmph! You mean Lady Blaine told you not to say anything. She has the sense to see that there is no point in trumpeting the ruin of her daughter’s reputation. She knows that the rumours will start soon enough by themselves. While you—’

  ‘While I have been proved right, ma’am,’ he declared. ‘Young Stratton has now written to me requesting the favour of an interview at my earliest convenience. He is to call on me this morning. I have no doubt that he will make an offer for Tilly.’ He allowed himself a very superior smile. ‘Lady Blaine is delighted, as you may imagine. When I left her, she was writing to her husband, telling him the good news and how fortunate the family had been to be able to rely on such an invaluable intermediary as myself. She told me that no godfather could have done more. Of course, I always knew I had diplomatic skills, but—’

  ‘Your only skill is in deluding yourself,’ retorted the Dowager. ‘You think that you will be applauded by the Blaines and all their set for this great coup you have brought off, do you? I tell you it will not happen.’

  ‘Excuse me, ma’am,’ began Marina, trying desperately to attract the Dowager’s attention. This wicked charade must be stopped.

  ‘Not now, Marina. I am talking to William.’

  ‘But, ma’am, it is vital that you listen to me. Mr Stratton has been wronged. Miss Blaine was never alone with him.’

  There was an astonished silence. Lord Luce stood goggle-eyed.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ exclaimed the Dowager at last, turning to stare at Marina.

  ‘Miss Blaine is not M.B. I am.’

  ‘Impossible—’

  ‘Be silent, William. Marina? Explain.’

  ‘It is quite true, ma’am. It was I who visited Mr Stratton at his house in Chelsea. Twice.’

  ‘I warned you not to keep this…this hussy in your house, Mama. You should have—’

  ‘I asked you to be silent, William. I have no doubt that Marina had good reasons for her actions—’

  It was only then that Marina realised she would have to explain what she had done, and why. Her horror must have shown on her face for the Dowager continued quickly, ‘We will speak of that later, my child. For the moment, we must concentrate on William’s little escapade. So much for your great victory, eh, William? You cannot hope to marry her off now.’ Marina was at a loss to understand why Lady Luce sounded so pleased.

  ‘Nonsense,’ said the Earl. ‘I do not believe what Miss…what this person says, not for one moment. Come, come, Mama. Tilly has admitted that she was with Stratton. Are you suggesting that she lied? A Viscount’s daughter? To her own mother?’

  ‘Tell me, William,’ said Lady Luce softly, ‘what exactly did your precious Tilly say?’

  The Earl looked a little self-conscious. Then he said, ‘I was not present, of course. Lady Blaine said she taxed Tilly with being M.B. and…and Tilly would not deny it. So it must be true.’

  ‘Balderdash! Tilly Blaine has the brains of a flea as well as the face of a horse. I’d wager a king’s ransom she said nothing at all. Probably just stood there, looking guilty, with her mouth hanging open at the very idea of having been alone with Kit Stratton. Well?’

  The Earl began to pace. His mother sent a conspiratorial glance towards Marina.

  His pacing stopped abruptly. ‘It is of no moment whether Tilly was with him or not. What matters is that he is prepared to offer for her. His letter leaves me in no doubt about that.’ He patted his pocket. ‘We’ll never get a better offer for Tilly. She’s well enough dowered, but for the rest… Can’t pass up a chance like this. Her father will be delighted that I’ve caught
her such a rich husband.’

  If Marina had not heard his words, she would not have believed that any gentleman could be so wicked.

  The Dowager did not attempt to mask her outrage. ‘You are a blackguard, William. Your only interest is in being able to boast about your famous victory over Kit Stratton. I tell you I will not permit it. Kit Stratton may be a rake, but he is worth ten of you.’

  ‘But you hate Kit Stratton, Mama!’

  The Earl had voiced Marina’s exact thoughts. Why should the Dowager take Kit Stratton’s part against her own son? No matter how much she despised him, he was still her own flesh and blood.

  ‘Not nearly as much as I hate you. And the family of the man who sired you.’

  ‘What? But my father provided for you…this house, the—’

  ‘Your father disowned you and rejected me. Did you never notice how little you resembled the family portraits?’ She shook her head. ‘No. I suppose you did not. A strong intellect has never been much in evidence among the Blaines.’

  The Earl’s jaw had dropped open. Deflated, he sank into a chair.

  ‘I will not allow that accursed family to triumph over me again—even if I have to side with Kit Stratton to do it. I warn you, William. If you persist in trying to force this match, I will announce to the world that your father was the late Viscount Blaine.’

  ‘You…you will only bring scandal on yourself,’ he protested weakly.

  ‘What of it? I am an old woman now. Everyone who mattered—my husband, our son—is dead long ago. Why should I care a rap what they say of me now?’

  ‘I am still your son, too, Mama,’ he replied, with surprising dignity, ‘and my children are your grandchildren. You will ruin their lives for your petty revenge.’

  ‘Petty, is it? Your father—your real father—seduced me and then threw me into the gutter. My family was about to disown me. I could have died if it had not been for Lord Luce. He married me and saved my reputation. And when our own darling son was killed in India, and my husband soon after, Lord Blaine—your father—came to gloat over my distress. Said your brother was a weakling, of weakling stock. Said I should be glad that a real man had sired you.’ She glared at him. ‘You are no son of mine. Look at you, with your tyrant’s ways and your broods of children. You’re a Blaine, all right.’