The Scandal in Kissing an Heir

by Sophie Barnes

  “Forgive me,” he muttered, because really, what else was there to say? The revelation had startled him, and yet he felt freer somehow because of it. He took a deep breath and thought of Rebecca. “Whatever mistakes I made in the past, I must consider the future now. I have a wife to care for, and I’ve no intention of letting her down.”

  “I’m pleased to hear it,” his uncle grumbled, “but that doesn’t make me any more able to assist. I’m afraid you’re on your own.”

  Daniel tensed. “What do you mean?”

  “That by getting yourself married the way you did, you’ve left me with no choice but to distance myself from you socially. The only reason you’re getting the house is because it was your father’s. You’ve every right to it, but as far as servants are concerned, you’ll have to hire your own. Cook, as you know, was hired by your mother, so she may stay.”

  “What about Molly?” Daniel asked. He felt numb.

  “After I sacked her, I suggested that you might want her in your employ.”

  “And Mr. Tenant? He was always there when I was a boy.”

  “He left when he discovered that I would no longer be paying his wages,” Wolvington said. “I don’t believe he had much faith in you in that regard.”

  “Are you cutting me off completely then?” Daniel asked, dreading the answer that would come.

  “There’s a hundred pounds in the safe behind the painting in your study. Here’s the key to it.” The marquess slid a silver key across the table to Daniel. “I’m sorry, but I cannot support your actions, Daniel. I hope you understand.”

  Daniel stared blankly at him.

  Wolvington sighed. His eyes met Daniel’s. “I’m glad to see that you didn’t just marry her for your own sake, though but that you actually seem to care about her. I wish you the best, Daniel, truly I do, but the dust needs to settle before you and I can be seen associating with each other, and that’s going to take time.”

  With a nod, Daniel rose and prepared to leave. His uncle had made himself clear.

  “You are aware that since she eloped with you and there is no settlement, your wife’s dowry belongs to you,” Lord Wolvington said, stopping Daniel in his tracks. “You are free to do with it as you please.”

  “No.” Daniel shook his head with complete resolve. “I won’t touch her money. I’d rather work for a living if I must.”

  Wolvington nodded, and Daniel saw in his eyes something that he’d never seen before—admiration. “Well then. It looks as though you know what to do.” Rising, he reached across the table, offering Daniel his outstretched hand. “Best of luck to you.”

  In a daze, Daniel accepted the peace offering from his uncle. He couldn’t be angry with him for cutting him off. Daniel had lost his head over a woman and had acted rashly. Even if his uncle agreed with his actions, he couldn’t support them and had no choice but to leave him to fend for himself.

  Dear God, Daniel thought as he walked back to Avern House. He dreaded what was to come, knowing that he would no longer be the only one shunned by Society. Rebecca would be too now, and he realized that while he might have saved her from one hellish nightmare, he’d very likely dragged her into another. The ton was an unforgiving lot who would rather feed on the faults of others than draw attention to their own.

  Even now as he walked he was not unaware of how empty the pavement was, noting that every person who came toward him crossed the street as soon as they became aware of who he was. He wanted to yell at them all for taking the side of the Griftons and Grover. They were the villains in this; it was they who should have been ostracized, not him and Rebecca. And what the hell was he going to say to Rebecca anyway? “Sorry, love, but we’re facing imminent poverty. Thank you for marrying me though.” He laughed bitterly.

  She would tell him to use her dowry of course. In fact, knowing her, she’d probably demand it. A smile touched the corner of his lips for a brief second before flittering off in the breeze. He’d meant what he’d told his uncle—he wouldn’t use her money, which meant that he wouldn’t be able to tell her about the financial straits they were now in. Taking a job was one solution, except he lacked the skills for the sort of position that would earn him the income he’d require.

  A hundred pounds was all the money he had right now, and somehow he would have to make it last. There was only one way he could think of to make that happen, and he only hoped that if he went down that road, neither his uncle nor Rebecca would ever find out.

  What was he thinking? He couldn’t risk gambling away what little money he had, no matter how good a player he was—not when he had a wife and servants who depended on him. A thought struck him. He didn’t have to gamble away all the money. What if he chose to risk only twenty pounds at the tables? He could then invest another thirty pounds in some profitable enterprise. But in what? Daniel had no idea which companies prospered and which didn’t, but Audrey’s husband, the Earl of Chilton, did. In fact, Daniel knew that he was very good at it. Perhaps he would be willing to advise Daniel on how to spend his thirty pounds? Meanwhile, he would still have another fifty set aside in case he failed to prosper from either of these ventures.

  Decision made, Daniel arrived home, hoping to enjoy Rebecca’s delightful company for the rest of the day, when a high-pitched squawk reached his ears. It seemed to have come from the parlor.

  With no sign of Hawkins around, Daniel went to the door and opened it, discovering two matronly dragons, as well as Lady Grifton, all of them looking stern-faced at Rebecca, who was staring back at them wide-eyed and openmouthed. “Good afternoon, ladies,” Daniel said jovially. Three sets of glaring eyes turned on him, but he was indifferent to their vehemence and merely smiled. “What a delightful surprise.”

  “I assure you that we take little delight in coming here,” Lady Grifton said.

  “Are you sure about that?” Daniel asked, his smile slipping as his words grew angry. “Seems to me you’ve all come to take a good look at the new Mrs. Neville, perhaps even give her a piece of your mind.”

  “Why, I—” Lady Grifton said, looking aghast.

  “May I remind you,” Daniel continued, not caring the least for what the countess might have wished to say, “that you are in her home. Why, she’s even shown you the courtesy of inviting you to stay for tea.”

  “After everything that my husband and I have done for her,” Lady Grifton sneered while her friends nodded their heads with sisterly compassion, “not to mention forcing us to traipse all over creation in search of you after you so scandalously ran off with her, the least she can do is apologize for her actions. A public announcement to this effect would certainly go a long way in appeasing the damage the two of you have done.”

  “If that is all, then I would advise you to take your leave now. After all, you wouldn’t want anyone to see you in our company, now, would you?”

  A look of concern flashed in the eyes of the three ladies. “Quite right,” Lady Grifton finally said, getting up and turning her back on Rebecca. “But I warn you, Mr. Neville—this matter is far from over. Mark my word.”

  And with that ominous promise, Lady Grifton and her two friends paraded past him, taking their hatred with them as they exited his home. Daniel turned to Rebecca. “I’m sorry you had to endure that. Had I known your aunt would call while I was away, I would have postponed my visit with my uncle so I could have been here with you.”

  “It’s all right,” Rebecca said. “You needn’t worry about me. I’m fine.” Getting up, she came toward him. “I’m far more interested in learning how your meeting with your uncle went. Will he forgive us for running away together?”

  “He understands why we did it,” Daniel said, not exactly answering her question but hoping to ease her concerns, “but unfortunately our little adventure has caused quite a stir, as evidenced by your aunt’s instant visit. My uncle has requested that we distance ourselves from t
hem for a time.”

  Rebecca’s eyes widened. “They will not support our decision?”

  “They cannot,” Daniel said, adding hastily, “fear not, though. It’s only temporary. As soon as the gossip dies down everything will return to normal.”

  “But if we tell everyone the truth, Daniel—how poorly my aunt and uncle have treated me and that Grover practically bought me from them, then surely—”

  “Arranged marriages are not uncommon among the ton, and neither are settlements. I daresay there won’t be many who’ll be sympathetic to our cause regardless of how unpleasant your aunt and uncle may be. Besides, your uncle is an earl,” Daniel told her gently as he took her hands in his. “You were under his guardianship, and all anyone will see is a young woman who was fortunate enough to win the attention of a duke only to publicly humiliate him by running off with a rake.”

  She nodded, her expression unusually serious. “Well, at least we have a place to live, although I would have thought we’d have more servants.”

  “My uncle only supplied us with the bare minimum, since he thought we might like to hire the rest of our staff ourselves.” As he said it, Daniel wondered how many lies he would end up telling in order to protect Rebecca from the truth.

  Rebecca’s features relaxed, and she even managed a bit of a smile. “How thoughtful of him,” she said. “I shall start interviewing maids and footmen as soon as possible then. Molly and Hawkins are in desperate need of assistance.”

  Daniel stopped himself from protesting. It was enough that he had to worry about paying the salaries that would come with extra staff. He wouldn’t bother Rebecca with all of that. “It’s growing late,” he said, “and we’ve had a rather long day. Let us have an early supper and then a bath before bed. I believe we could both use one after our journey.”

  “I’d love nothing more, but I don’t want to send Hawkins running up and down the stairs with buckets of water either. It just isn’t fair. I can manage with a washbasin and a sponge for now.”

  “You’re kind, Becky, do you know that? Which is why I shall ensure that you have the bath you so desire.”

  “But—” she protested.

  “I will help Hawkins carry the water,” Daniel said, “as long as you will accept taking your bath here in the parlor. Does that sound reasonable?”

  “I don’t want the servants to think me spoiled or demanding,” Rebecca said.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll tell them that I insisted on it.” And then he pulled her into his embrace and placed his mouth over hers in a hungry kiss that stole her breath. Releasing her with the satisfaction that he’d managed to daze her, he stepped away and went to the door. “I’ll ask Molly to start a fire in the hearth so you don’t catch a chill, and for Hawkins to bring the tub.”

  “And what should I do?” Rebecca asked. “I hope you don’t expect me to just sit here and look pretty while you do all the work?”

  Daniel grinned. “You may accompany me downstairs, then to the kitchen if you like. It’s time you met Cook.”

  Chapter 15

  The sounds and smells that greeted Rebecca were not entirely unfamiliar. When her parents had been alive, she’d been forbidden from venturing below stairs for two reasons: first, because proper ladies never entered the servants’ domain, and second, because her parents hadn’t wanted her to get in anyone’s way. But, being the lively child that she’d been, such rules hadn’t been enough to stop her, and she’d many a time snuck into the kitchen to steal a freshly baked bun or two. Later, at Roselyn Castle, she’d entered the kitchen only once. After accidentally knocking over a bucket of water, the cook had yelled at her to get out, and her aunt had later punished her by sending her to bed without supper—the first warning of the sort of treatment she would come to expect from her relative.

  Hesitant about what awaited her in the kitchen of Avern House, Rebecca allowed Daniel to lead the way. The rich aroma of meat mingling with spices drifted toward her, teasing her senses. When she finally entered the room itself, heat coming from a massive oven in the corner embraced her. She stepped forward and glanced around, taking in the vast array of copper pots that hung suspended under the ceiling alongside bunches of dried herbs. A middle-aged woman dressed all in black and with a rather shapely figure came into view. Rebecca stared as the woman grabbed a spoon and poured some liquid, which Rebecca suspected might have been wine, into one of the pots on the stove. Somehow she’d drawn the conclusion that all cooks were of the more plump variety, as had been the case both during her childhood and at Roselyn Castle. Clearly she had been mistaken and was only grateful that the woman she was now looking at was past her prime and unlikely to catch her husband’s interest.

  Rebecca shook the thought away. What was she thinking? That Daniel would actually try to seduce the help? Even she knew that he was better than that, yet the thought had entered her mind without restraint, reminding her that she still worried about his ability to remain faithful to her, more so now that she’d actually given herself to him. The trouble was that she feared it wasn’t just her body he’d conquered on their wedding night but her heart as well.

  “Rebecca,” Daniel said, taking her by the hand and leading her forward. “May I introduce you to Madame Renarde? A fine cook if I may say so.”

  Of course she would be French, Rebecca mused. She smiled at the woman, who was also quite pretty, save for a slight burn mark on her left cheek. “I hope you don’t mind me intruding on your domain,” Rebecca said, “but I was curious to see the rest of the house. I am Lady Rebecca Neville.”

  Madame Renarde smiled, her hand still stirring the simmering liquid in the pot. Whatever it was, it smelled heavenly. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady.” Her voice sang with lyrical French undertones. “I hope you will forgive me for not coming upstairs to greet you earlier upon your arrival as is customary,” Madame Renarde continued, “but as you can see, there is a lot of work to be done.”

  “I’d be happy to help,” Rebecca blurted without thinking. Madame Renarde’s raised eyebrows and a stunned silence from Molly, Daniel and Hawkins, who’d been discussing the procedure of tending to Rebecca’s bath later, were indicative of a mutual surprise. Rebecca turned, hands on hips, and looked at Daniel. “I see no reason why I cannot lend a hand here when you are prepared to act as footman.”

  Her husband stared back at her, but then the corner of his mouth twitched, giving way to a broad smile. “I believe we’ve both proven ourselves unsuitable for traditional conventions. This is your home as well as it is mine. You may do as you please, my dear.”

  Her heart swelling with infinite joy, Rebecca grabbed an apron from a hook behind the door and proceeded to follow whatever instructions Madame Renarde and Molly gave her, fetching dishes, chopping herbs, grinding pepper and crushing garlic.

  “It’s a good thing you’re having a bath later,” Daniel whispered as he strode past the spot where Rebecca was working. “You’re starting to smell like quite the meal yourself.” Heat rose to her cheeks as he said it, his words suggesting that he wouldn’t mind partaking in the delicacies she had to offer. It was a wonder that she didn’t burst into flames at the very idea of it.

  “Thank you so much for helping us,” Madame Renarde said when the only task that remained was carrying the food upstairs. “I don’t believe any other lady would have done the same.”

  “You’re very welcome,” Rebecca said, “and since I’m going up anyway, I can easily take something along if you like.”

  “There’s a dumbwaiter right over there, Rebecca,” Daniel said. Having returned to the kitchen after helping Hawkins with the tub, he’d stepped up beside Rebecca and was now pointing to a square-shaped hole in the wall. “It will bring the food directly to the dining room.”

  Marveling at the ingenious bit of engineering, Rebecca allowed Daniel to escort her back upstairs while Molly followed behind the
m. “I know you’re eager to see it at work,” Daniel said, leading Rebecca past the dining room table and toward a small square-shaped door located in the wall at the far end of the room. Grabbing the brass handle on the bottom of it, Daniel pushed the door up, revealing a shaft inside the wall. Rebecca stared, impressed by the convenience this simple idea offered. She’d always been used to large estates, where the food was tepid at best by the time it traveled the long distance from the kitchen to the dining room.

  Reaching for a chord that hung beside the dumbwaiter, Daniel gave it a slight pull. There was a brief moment of silence, and then a whirring sound as ropes yanked the elevator containing Daniel’s and Rebecca’s dinner upward. “Let’s take our seats now,” Daniel said as soon as Rebecca caught sight of a tray with three covered dishes on it, “and allow Molly here to do her job.” When they were alone again and their plates had been filled with succulent chicken breasts, as well as potato slices fried in butter and herbs and covered in a light but piquant red wine sauce, Daniel said, “I really appreciate everything you did this evening. It was well done of you, Becky, and I know that the servants will respect you more for it. Just don’t forget that they must feel useful as well. You have to give them the chance to serve you.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m just not very used to that concept, I suppose. After arriving at Roselyn Castle, Laura quickly became more than just my maid. She became my only friend, and rather than just sit about being bored out of my wits, I often helped her with her chores.”

  “And I believe that you’re a better person because of it,” Daniel said with a look of understanding in his eyes. “All I’m saying is that you should take care not to make any of them feel as if they’re superfluous. They take pride in their work.”

  Rebecca stared back at him as he stabbed a piece of chicken with his fork and put it in his mouth, his features dissolving with pleasure as he began to chew. What a conundrum he was— an heir to a marquisate and renowned rakehell who seemed to understand his servants better than he did his peers, and who’d been willing to rescue her when any other sensible man would have run in the opposite direction. He’d had his own reasons, to be sure, she reminded herself, yet she couldn’t help but feel that he would have done it anyway, even if he’d had nothing to gain except her hand.