Seduction Wears Sapphires

by Renee Bernard

  “You’ll hear rumors soon enough. I disgraced myself at a masque, and while the details will be muddled and inaccurate when others recount it, you should know from me that I . . . acted out of jealousy when I saw him talking to an old mistress and . . . There were other guests that saw us, and while I didn’t exactly tear her hair out, I wanted to, Grandfather Walker.”

  She thought to burst into flames at such an intimate conversation, but instead, her skin felt cold—her heartbreak too fresh to allow for shame. “I’ve come here to ensure that the blame lands squarely on my shoulders alone. The seduction was my doing.”

  “And Ashe is innocent in all of this? That is what you are saying?”

  She simply held his gaze, unflinching, until he nodded in satisfaction.

  “The heart is a treacherous thing, my dear.”

  Caroline’s eyes filled with tears. “Please, Grandfather Walker. Don’t punish Ashe for my weakness and stupidity. He never lied and made more of his affections than he felt. It was my longing that wished for more than he had to give.”

  “And will you be all right?”

  She nodded her head, the tears starting to fall despite her best efforts to keep her composure. “My aunt will be missing me, I’m sure. My cousins will be eager to hear about the sights of London and regain my company.” It was the second most blatant lie she’d uttered, but Caroline clasped her hands tightly in her lap to hide their trembling. My aunt was glad to be shut of me, despite all her squawking, and I’ll be lucky if they open the front door when I return. As for my cousins, they probably didn’t realize I was gone.

  “Very well. You’ll stay until I can arrange for your passage home, and I won’t brook any arguments.” He held out his handkerchief, the gruffness in his voice betraying his sympathy. “You aren’t the first to fall to his charms, and I should accept my own culpability in putting you in harm’s way. I was overly confident, and I’m afraid you’ve suffered for it.”

  “I’m fine, sir.” Caroline did her best to regain her composure. She didn’t want the dear old man to feel any guilt on her behalf. “Once I’ve set sail, this will all be behind me and quickly forgotten.” By Ashe, but not by me. Oh, God, I think I’ll carry these scars with me for the rest of my life.

  “Well, good night then, my dear. Rest well,” he said, squeezing her hand as she leaned in to kiss him on the cheek.

  “Good night, Grandfather Walker.”

  She went upstairs, returning to the guest bedroom she’d occupied weeks before, so full of hope and confidence. Now, she threw herself across the bed, sobbing and finally giving in to the wrenching pain that had been gnawing inside of her.

  It was finally over.

  Ashe raced back down the stairs and out the doors to his waiting carriage, yelling for James to make haste and get them to Bellewood as if the devil himself were on their heels. He’d lost a day following her to try to tie up a few loose ends in London and lay the groundwork for the trial ahead. The delay in pursuing Caroline had been the most difficult decision of his life, but he could only hope that it would help him to earn her back.

  He’d barely set back onto the cushions when the final blow struck and the last of his strength seem to give out.

  For there, on the carriage window, was the perfect imprint of her small, beautiful palm and fingers—the cold glass still holding the impression amidst a halo of frost.

  “There is passion.” Isn’t that what I said? That it didn’t change anything. But that was a lie, wasn’t it, Caroline? I didn’t believe it would last. I didn’t want to believe it. And now . . .

  He’d accepted the consequences of his own vows, but he wasn’t about to let Caroline suffer for it. Bellewood had been the next inevitable destination, but now, there was new urgency to his journey.

  I’m completely in love with a woman I just carelessly threw away.

  Chapter

  22

  Snow and ice on muddied roads made the journey to Bellewood more grueling and miserable than any he could remember, but Ashe hardly felt it. He’d arrived with his hat in hand to see his grandfather. Not to beg for his inheritance, since by all honorable measurements, the wager was lost.

  But he was determined to see if there was anything to be done about Caroline’s predicament. He was sure that if he could restore her future, she might be able to forgive him. He wanted to find out what his grandfather had intended to pay her—and then see that she received it from his own accounts.

  Back in his grandfather’s library, he waited. The room hadn’t changed, but it felt even more oppressingly dark and gloomy to him in the early winter afternoon. But this time, his anxiety wasn’t the imagined echoes of childhood. This time it was the strange knowledge that he was disowned and disconnected to the only family he’d ever known.

  “I was wondering when you would arrive,” his grandfather spoke from the doorway. “And in what mood.”

  “Is she here?”

  “You waste no time!” His grandfather made his way slowly to his favorite upholstered chair near the fireplace. “Come, sit with me and let’s see if we can unravel some of the mess.”

  “Thank you.” Ashe took the chair across from him, aware as he had never been of how much this old man meant to him. In light of their agreement, this could be the last time he would be in his grandfather’s presence for anything resembling a conversation. Grief at the loss threatened to swamp him for a moment, but Ashe pushed the emotion away. “Is she here?” he asked again.

  “She is here, my guest yet for a while.” The elder Blackwell lifted a newspaper set on the table between them. “A day after the masque and there is just a nasty sentence or two. It is a snickering, black giggle at your expense, Ashe, to gain you more sympathy than you expect. But the report is tawdry enough to ensure your circle has grown slightly smaller. Not that I believe you were enjoying Lady Fitzgerald’s company.”

  “Grandfather, I—”

  “Not that I ever did either. The old woman is an intolerable bore, and it was a rotten piece of mischief I couldn’t resist to make sure you met her more than once.” He set the paper back down. “Nasty business.”

  “I don’t know the extent of your agreement with Miss Townsend, but she cannot be blamed for the inherent flaws in my character. Perhaps you could reveal the amount to my solicitor and I’ll make arrangements from my own funds to—”

  “I doubt the lady would be pleased to accept money from you, Ashe.”

  “It would be easy to make the funds appear to have come from you.”

  “All this fuss over money! It’s not very refined, sir. Miss Townsend has a fortune of her own, for I cannot see Matthew not doting entirely on such a girl. Besides, it was Miss Townsend herself who sent word over a fortnight past requesting that no payment be made. And now, of course, I understand why.”

  He doesn’t know. That proud and impossible woman never said a word—even to the old man! It was a revelation that hit him hard. She would walk away with nothing and Ashe felt the weight of the world land on his shoulders.

  His grandfather sighed. “What a disappointment my scheme turned out to be! Well, begin your gloating and smirk away at how stupid it all seems now. The prisoner behaved better than his jailers!”

  “Better? How was I any better?” Ashe scoffed.

  “From Miss Townsend’s admission, you were a man of your word in the worst of situations, Ashe. Poor girl! I was ready to blame you, quite naturally, but she made an honest confession and I don’t harbor ill will toward her as a result. Nor should you! If you’ve come to berate her, I won’t allow it, Ashe.”

  Berate her? What the hell has happened that the world has left its axis?

  Ashe took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay still and calm. “I have no intention of berating her. But I must know exactly what she told you in her ‘honest confession.’ ”

  “As you wish.” Gordon reached a gnarled hand inside his waistcoat pocket and retrieved a folded letter. “Winston rattled her, and for
that I have already apologized. I thought a bit of competition would keep you focused, but I’d forgotten what a clumsy buffoon Yardley can be. Just like his father, really.”

  “We are speaking of Miss Townsend, sir.” Ashe’s patience was too thin to allow his grandfather to ramble.

  “I do like the tone of her missives. So direct and somehow still a soft feminine voice. This letter exonerating your character and warning me of Yardley’s threats was endearing. She was sure we were both in danger and I was touched at how seriously she urged me to protect myself from Winston’s greed.” He smiled fondly. “She was very convincing.”

  He held it out to Ashe. “I had my suspicions that you’d turned her head from her previous letter suddenly changing the terms of our arrangement and refusing payment. And of course, her clear admiration for you in this note only clarified my fears. And then Crawley’s!”

  “The nail in my coffin,” Ashe said, taking the letter but not bothering to glance at it.

  “If she hadn’t presented her case in person, I’d say you’d be on the wrong side of my will at this moment, my boy.”

  “But the wager—”

  “Appearances are always deceiving and Miss Townsend explained the worst of her actions. My only surprise was that you didn’t trust me to write of things yourself! I may be old, Ashe, but I’m not so infirm that I can’t comprehend that a man caught between two women like that”—he shook his head, his expression almost nostalgic—“can do nothing.”

  “For the last time”—Ashe gripped the arms of the chair to keep from leaping up like a madman—“what did she tell you?”

  “That she lost her head over you and caused an unspeakable ruckus at Crawley’s in an attempt to ensnare you.” He shrugged. “I never would have suspected her of such immodest actions, but women are unpredictable! Still, to try such an awkward seduction in such a public place! Perhaps I’ll credit it to her youth. And knowing how much you dislike the girl, I can see how miserable this is to have the person in place as a safeguard turn into your downfall.”

  “My God!” Why would she lie? Caroline, who never lies—but that isn’t entirely true, is it? She’d kept her secrets. But hell, I’ve certainly kept mine!

  “Don’t look so shocked! You were there, Ashe! There’s no need to go over every tawdry detail, is there?”

  “Yes, I think there is.” Ashe released his hold on the chair and looked the older man directly in the eye. “I’m going to tell you what happened, wager be damned.”

  Chapter

  23

  “Why, Caroline? Why would you impugn yourself like that?” Ashe finally found her in the upstairs reading room, tucked away on a window seat in a bay of windows overlooking the sweeping lawns of Bellewood.

  She closed her book slowly, refusing to look at him and instead gazing out into the garden. “It was easy enough.”

  “It was unnecessary. Since Yardley paid Margot to . . . make an appearance at the masque, my grandfather would never have accepted the situation. It was too heavy-handed and you were too quick for those fools. I was the one who made a scene after you left and guaranteed myself an uphill battle. But when I came home—we never did talk about the truth of the matter.”

  “No one cares about the truth.” She looked at him, her large brown eyes clear and beautiful. “All London simply wants to relish the story of the rogue and the whore and his stupid ward, and who am I to stand in their way? But when all the storms pass, I just couldn’t see you paying for my mistakes, not with your inheritance.”

  “What mistakes can you possibly be referring to?”

  “I mistook a passing interest for more than it was. I forgot my place and I forgot that I was meaningless to you.”

  “You are not meaningless! You’ve come to mean more to me than I ever thought possible.” The painful truth of it knifed through him. I’m in love with you, Caroline, and I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t possible and that you were just another diversion. And I said as much to you in a dozen ways. Ashe wasn’t sure it was the time for declarations. It was as if everything he’d ever done or said now haunted him.

  “It seems I am not cut out to live a life full of passion for passion’s sake, Mr. Blackwell. I saw no point in lingering for your eventual dismissal.”

  “Dismissal? Damn it, Caroline! I never once thought of you that way!”

  “Why not? Because I didn’t ask for a carriage before I begged you to touch me?” She crossed her arms, holding the book against her chest like a shield. “There would have been a public scandal, thanks to me. I did what I could to undo the damage with your grandfather. Now you can go back to your life, your honor restored and your fortunes intact.”

  “Damn it! I don’t care about any of that!”

  “Of course you do! You’d never have bothered with any of it if you didn’t, Ashe—you’d never have accepted any of it; not the wager, not the worry, and certainly not a chaperone.”

  “Caroline—”

  “Stop saying my name!” She suddenly threw the book at him, and Ashe instinctively ducked to avoid the blow. “You know nothing of me, Ashe! Nothing! I would give anything to have my parents or my own grandfather back! To feel a part of a loving family again, even if it lies in one man’s eyes. And I know you feel the same way about Grandfather Walker. I couldn’t bear the idea—that you would be alone in the world.”

  “I’m not alone. My grandfather admitted that he’d quietly settled everything irrevocably on me months ago! This entire thing was some kind of game for him, Caroline. You didn’t need to sacrifice your dreams.”

  “I’m not a martyr and I didn’t sacrifice my dreams!” She bristled and gave him a quelling look and Ashe felt a hint of relief to see it. “I have my own honor to think about! Not everything is about you, Mr. Blackwell.”

  Ah, a debate! There’s the spirit I’ve come to love!

  “So my life is restored as if nothing has happened and you’re going to just walk away with your pride?” He retrieved the book she’d thrown and held it out to her. “What kind of man do you think I am?”

  “I don’t know. I know what I wanted to believe, but honestly, I don’t know what kind of man you are.”

  He dropped the book on the floor and captured her fingers in the warm cage of his. “Then I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you what kind of man I was, before you forced your way inside my doors.”

  She nodded solemnly, attentive and quiet.

  “Before India, I lived for myself and my own pleasure and I didn’t think about anything else really. India was a punishment to send me away to what my grandfather was sure would be a sobering environment. I was to gain perspective.” Ashe sighed. “Perspective.”

  “And have you?”

  “Not until recently. I thought I had after I spent over a year in a dungeon in the jungles of Bengal. That’s where the Jaded met and that is where our brotherhood came into being. For the others, it was an unwarranted punishment, but a part of me always felt as if I’d earned my place in the dark. It was penance for all the pleasure I’d stolen. For Anjali and that blind, stupid, blissful love that demonstrated once and for all what a selfish bastard I really was. Because I never thought of anything but my own delightful discovery of happiness and true love.”

  “How can love be selfish and—”

  “I never thought of the consequences to her or her family. I was her doom. Oblivious to a climate of growing hatred against all things British, I’d put her in danger. They murdered her when the unrest broke out, and I . . . didn’t even know enough to think to protect her. When I found out she was dead, I was sure that I’d died with her. Not out of a romantic notion of attachment, but out of the realization that whatever potential I’d held—I wasn’t man enough to deserve it.”

  “Oh, God, Ashe!”

  “I was sure they’d just kill me, too, but it never happened. And for a while, I was fairly angry about that.”

  “Angry that you hadn’t died?”

  “It was the
Jaded that saved my life.”

  “I can’t believe that this is the truth behind all those rumors about that club,” she whispered, pain echoing in her voice.

  He nodded. “A very elite club, Miss Townsend, that notoriously isn’t looking for new members.”

  Her expression betrayed her horror, but she said nothing, allowing him time to compose his thoughts and finish the sordid tale.

  “When we escaped and made it home, I deliberately decided that there would be no reformation or salvation for me. Let other men who deserved it remake their lives or recover their souls. I simply went back to the emptiest pleasures I could find and waited for the rot to set in.”

  “I’m so sorry, Ashe. It explains a great deal, but it doesn’t change anything. You must have learned by now that your sins aren’t weightier than another’s and you don’t get to decide your fate.” She took a deep breath, the caramel brown of her eyes growing even sadder. “But you should tell your grandfather about Anjali and give him the chance to know you better.”

  “The past is the past. I’m not going to try to excuse the mistakes I’ve made to him. The old monster and I have a special truce of our own, Caroline. But it’s you . . . It’s you I’ve come to win, Caroline.”

  She freed her hands from his. “You cannot.”

  “I haven’t told you these sad tales to bid for your sympathy, Caroline.”

  “But you have it all the same.” She stood, the drab brown cotton of her gown failing to mute her beauty and grace in his eyes. “I wish you every happiness, Ashe.”

  He caught her wrist and prevented her escape. “I want to marry you, Caroline.”

  “No.”

  Her answer hit him like a rock against his chest, but he refused to flinch. “Tell me why not, Miss Townsend.”

  “First of all, I have no illusions of being some miraculous salve for your wounds. I was simply one more woman you used to forget your past and to pretend that you don’t have a heart. And now you’ve made peace with your grandfather, and perhaps it seems a good time to appease him with a marriage.”