by Allison Lane
“So thank you and farewell?” Sunlight turned his hair gold as he moved closer.
“It is for the best. William should never have asked you to interfere. But I accept full blame. If I had told him everything, he would have understood Jasper’s determination earlier. We could have retired from society until the furor died down.”
He snorted. “If you’d told him everything, he would have met Jasper at dawn. Even if he’d survived – he is a terrible marksman – the resulting scandal would have been worse.”
“Arguing might-have-beens serves no purpose,” she said, shivering at his words, for they voiced the biggest reason she’d remained silent. She put a rosebush between them, on the pretext of examining a lingering bloom. “My situation is beyond recall, but if I retire from public scrutiny, my family will survive.”
“Your situation has already improved,” he insisted.
“How can you say that? You were there last night. Jasper’s lies carry more weight than the Magna Carta and the Bible combined. Virtue is hard enough to prove in the best of times. Now it is impossible.”
“Never.” He followed her around the bush. “It merely requires the right evidence. Don’t turn cowardly now. If last night proved anything, it is that retreat will no longer protect your family – if it ever could. And retreat will not satisfy Jasper. With or without your help, I will continue this crusade, for he will attack at will until he’s stopped. I cannot allow an unscrupulous fool to ruin five lives.”
“Seven,” she said, correcting him before she realized that doing so added two new reasons to continue. His brow quirked in a question. “We have other brothers. Andrew is with Wellington in Portugal. Thomas is away at school, thank heavens. His temper is unpredictable. He would retaliate against Jasper if he knew what was going on.”
“So we must resolve things soon. Winter break starts next month.” He combed his hair with his fingers. The separated strands snapped into curls, making her hands itch to test their softness.
Her reaction made it imperative that he leave, she realized, clutching her skirt so she didn’t reach for him. “You misunderstood the cuts last night. People were upset that my family allowed me to attend. If I disappear, their reputations will survive. Persisting will hurt them further, so thank you for your efforts, but it is time to face the truth. You will never find the evidence you seek. Jasper is too cunning to act with obvious malice and too careful to confide even in close friends, for they might one day turn against him. Retiring from society will pose no hardship, for society does not appeal to me. Once William marries, I can fade into the background and be forgotten.”
“That could be a very long time, for he will never offer for Miss Wyath.”
“True, and to be honest, I am glad he came to his senses. But he is looking for a wife. Someone is bound to catch his eye.”
“And in the meantime, who will chaperon Laura and Mary?” Only mild curiosity showed in his tone.
“William, of course.” She relaxed, congratulating herself on finding an argument he could accept. But the thought had barely formed when his face snapped into a glare so fierce, she recoiled, backing into a rosebush.
“I hadn’t considered you a quitter, Catherine,” he growled, following her retreat. “I realize you are smarting from last night’s cuts, but you cannot stop now. It would validate every falsehood, including those directed at William, Laura, and Mary.” She must have gasped, for he nodded. “Quitting would give credence to the charges against Lansbury and risk new attacks on anyone who has confided in you. Jasper would be free to launch a reign of terror. Is that what you want?”
“That’s not—”
“That is exactly what you are proposing,” he said, reading her mind. “You are crawling off to lick your wounds, handing Jasper a victory by default. He will censure you openly. People will laud him as an honest man protecting society from a disreputable woman. And they will believe the other rumors, too – like the one claiming that William beat a prostitute to death in Plymouth last month.”
She gasped, biting the back of her hand to keep from crying out.
“You hadn’t heard that one, had you?” He loomed over her, his harsh voice and flashing eyes hinting that he could be as dangerous as Jasper when in a temper. “That’s not the worst tale I’ve encountered. Some were circulating before I arrived, but most appeared more recently. And not just about William. There are tales about Laura and innuendo about Mary. I even heard one condemning your servants.”
“I haven’t heard a word.” The enormity of the charges made her reel.
“Of course not. By the time these stories arose, no one was speaking to you. But I doubt you would have heard them anyway. William only knows the mildest of your supposed exploits. No one would dare tell him the worst tales, for his temper is well known.”
“Yet they threw those very tales in my face.”
But he was already shaking his head. “Not the worst ones, Catherine. You don’t want to know some of the things I’ve heard against you. You don’t,” he repeated when she opened her mouth. “And it no longer matters. Jasper stopped maligning you as soon as he realized that you were less concerned with society’s opinion than he is. To protect himself in case you reveal his crimes, he keeps the old tales alive, and he willingly used you to damage Lansbury. But he does not count that toward your punishment. Instead, he will destroy your family, for he knows that will hurt you far more than ostracism.”
“My God.” She had to escape. He stood between her and the gate, so she fled in the other direction, even knowing there was no way out. The garden walls imprisoned her as surely as Jasper’s spite. “I can’t stay here,” she gasped, pushing against the stones when he cornered her. “I have to leave.”
“And go where?” he demanded, pulling her around to face him. “Stop reacting and think,” he added, shaking her. His touch burned into her shoulders. “You lack any means of support. No one would hire you as a governess or even as a companion with this cloud hanging over your head. Do you want to prove Jasper’s claims by setting up as a courtesan? What would that do to Sarah?”
Each word struck like a stone, battering her against the wall. Why had they asked his help? Jasper must have known of his investigation from his first talk with Mrs. Telcor. No wonder he had broadened the attack. William’s plot to find Laura a husband would destroy them all.
“It is too late to hide,” he continued relentlessly. “Only by exposing Jasper as a tyrant can you reclaim your life.”
“And that is impossible.” As her temper shattered, she shoved his hands aside. “Admit it. Your thinking is as clouded as you claim mine is. Your damned honor is so tied to fulfilling every last vow, you refuse to admit that this one is impossible. It should never have been made, so I am releasing you from it.”
“You can’t.”
“I can, and I will. Forcing me to lead my family into danger is dishonorable, and thinking you can win is pure fantasy. Pull your head out of the sky. No one will believe me innocent without proof of Jasper’s motives. That proof doesn’t exist.”
“But it does,” he insisted. “Even if he told no one his schemes, the pattern is clear to anyone who cares to look – which they will do as soon as doubt begins to grow. I sowed the first seeds last night. Jasper made a huge mistake in destroying your family. His charges cover a host of crimes, most of them unspeakable. But this time his cunning failed.”
“Are you deaf and blind? It succeeded all too well. Laura cried half the night.”
“She will recover. Think, Catherine. He is attacking a lord, a man whose precedence exceeds his own until the day he actually steps into his father’s shoes. Not only that, he is attacking three ladies and an entire staff whose only offense is defending you.”
“I am aware of his actions,” she snapped.
“You are missing the point.” Again he grabbed her shoulders, scrambling her thoughts. “It is too much. In his zeal, he has set you up as emissaries of the devil, delighti
ng in every excess known to man. But no one has seen a single example of evil. All they see are your continuing efforts to make life easier for those less fortunate than you. What self-respecting gossip can admit that she lived in the midst of such unbridled debauchery without once suspecting its presence? When the initial pique over your supposed trickery subsides, they will ask questions. These tales are an insult to their intelligence and powers of observation.”
“But it will change nothing,” she insisted. “You forget that no one else knows Jasper is behind the rumors. At the first sign of doubt, he will take a public stand against us. That will kill any further discussion. Those few who suspect I might be innocent will never admit it aloud, for fear of jeopardizing their own reputations. In the end, everyone will accept his version of events. You do not understand how much power he wields. Forget his current precedence, for William has never traded on his position and doing so now will further erode his credit. So stop this farce before Jasper ruins you, too.”
“He can’t hurt me.”
“Yes, he can. You care about people. How will your conscience react to renewed attacks on Carruthers, Jones, and anyone else you have interviewed? He saw you whisper to Edna Lansbury last night. If she doesn’t turn on her husband, Jasper will know why.”
“He will have other problems by then. I’ve only begun to attack.”
“Devil take you! Why can’t you pay attention?” She pushed against his chest, trying to escape his looming presence. “It is over. If you don’t accept that, I will stand on the altar in Exeter Cathedral and announce to the world that every tale is true.”
“And build a legacy of lies for Sarah?” His eyes blazed as he captured her hand to prevent further assault. “I won’t let you capitulate. You are the most honorable woman I’ve ever met. I cannot allow him to destroy you. Nor can I abandon Sarah to an untenable future.”
She began a new argument, but he cut off her words, crushing his mouth against hers, pulling her into his arms, and kissing her with an intensity that shocked her to her toes. Excitement streaked along every nerve, more intense than any dream. Pressing closer, she kissed him back. It had been so long since she’d enjoyed a masculine embrace, but even Harold’s arms had never felt this good.
She tried to believe that her reaction was caused only by her long loneliness, but the argument seemed spurious even before his tongue stroked hers into new excitement. When his hand reached inside her cloak to brush the tip of her breast, all thought ceased. Passion exploded.
His hair was softer than she had imagined, softer even than Sarah’s. But his body was hard. And hot. Frantically, she pressed closer, reveling in every well-developed muscle. This was not a man who needed to pad his coats or pantaloons. Laura often laughed over the lengths some cubs went to improve an inadequate physique. Like that coxcomb—
Laura!
She stiffened, shoving frantically against his chest. What the devil was she doing? This was precisely why he had to leave.
He dropped his arms and stepped back. “Forgive me.” His voice was hoarse, the words barely audible as he gasped for breath. “I should not have done that.”
“Nor should I.” She fought down hysteria as desire battled honor. Her own breathing was far too fast. “Temper sometimes provokes regrettable behavior.” Already her body was longing for the warmth of his, but she stifled its demands. She could not inflict her reputation on a man of virtue. Nor could she betray her sister. “We will forget this incident, my lord.”
He nodded, as though he did not trust his voice. She knew what his forbearance was costing him, for she had felt evidence of his passion. But he was too honorable to allow a moment’s diversion to lead him astray. And she would never be more than a momentary diversion.
“You will not withdraw from the battle, Mrs. Parrish,” he said, returning to their argument. “I will expose Jasper’s schemes. Last night’s victory assures an even harder fall. The rumbling has already begun. If you think of anyone I should interview, let me know.”
Turning on his heel, he left.
She staggered to a bench, dropping her head into her hands. What had possessed her? After all her care and all her warnings, she had fallen into his arms without protest. She should have fled from his first touch. Instead, she had remained, welcoming the warmth flowing from his hands, even as her arguments tried to send him away. Her ambivalence must have invited that kiss. Why else would he have abandoned his own scruples?
She had always wondered how women could be seduced. It implied a loss of control she had never understood. While she had enjoyed that part of her marriage, the pleasure would not have tempted her to risk her reputation before they had wed. And she knew that many women found it an unpleasant duty.
But they had never been kissed by the Earl of Rockhurst.
Guilt washed over her, for she had wanted that kiss and longed to repeat it. And more. Excitement still burned, tightening her nipples and building the craving for his body she’d been trying to ignore. She would welcome an affair with him in a minute, should he offer.
And there lay her gravest danger, she admitted, succumbing to tears. He was too stubborn to leave, so she must avoid him. Pursuing the attraction would ruin her and betray Laura. She couldn’t let this happen again. She would take all meals in her room for the remainder of his stay.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Blake fled the rose garden, furious with himself for succumbing to temptation. Why the devil had he kissed her?
Because you knew how good it would be.
He cursed. That was not an acceptable excuse. He’d vowed that he would not explore this attraction until after he’d vanquished Jasper. Doing so sooner would complicate everything. How could he redeem her reputation if he was enjoying her favors himself? It wasn’t something they could hide. With the number of servants scattered about the grounds today, he was lucky no one had caught him devouring her.
Again he cursed.
He had been so careful to keep every meeting focused on business. He’d allowed no assignations, no casual conversations, not even an exchange of warm glances. She had rarely remained in the drawing room after dinner. The closest they had come to social intercourse was at the assembly, but even those dances had been business. So how had he lost control so thoroughly?
You panicked, taunted his conscience.
“Absurd,” he muttered, resuming his thrice-interrupted trip to the stables. Her insistence that he abandon his vow had annoyed him, but that was hardly cause for panic. He would not give up the fight, whatever her fears. And she was entitled to an attack of nerves after last night. In the end she would stand firm, for she shared his devotion to justice and fair play.
But she was trying to send you away.
Nerves, he insisted, though he had recognized panic in her eyes. It had increased with each new argument in favor of quitting – almost as if she feared to keep him near those she loved.
“Dear God!” His fists clenched. How could he have missed so obvious an explanation? She must have stumbled across the scene in the library – which would explain why she’d looked so distressed when she’d entered the garden. Laura’s description of his supposed attack would produce exactly this reaction. And kissing her would reinforce those impressions. Catherine would be even more determined to drive him away now. How else could she protect her family? She might even bar him from the nursery.
He stifled a cry at the thought of not seeing Sarah again.
William would set her straight about Laura’s plot, but nothing could erase her own experience. He had grabbed her without warning, giving her no time to protest. The first touch of her lips had shredded his control, releasing such a jumble of sensations that he had no real recollection of his actions.
He groaned as the image of grinding her against his groin flashed through his brain. No wonder she’d panicked. If she hadn’t stiffened and pushed him away, he would have taken her on the spot. He’d never felt such desire.
So did she,
taunted the voice of temptation. She didn’t fight back like she did with Jasper.
He thrust it away. He’d given her no opportunity to refuse, pulling her so close that her knees had been caught in her cloak. And the fact that she’d returned his kiss meant nothing. Only moments earlier, she’d threatened to tell the world that she was guilty of all charges. Perhaps she’d been trying to demonstrate that guilt.
That was what had led to the kiss, he admitted on a sigh. He’d had the misguided notion of proving she was no wanton. Instead, he’d proved himself a weak-willed rakehell for whom honor meant nothing when placed against desire, more than confirming his reputation. If she’d heard even a whisper of it, she would now think him degenerate.
He owed her a larger apology than he’d offered. He must make it clear that she was safe. He would never assault her again. Nor would he touch her sisters. But he could not leave yet. Jasper would use his departure against her, destroying any progress they had made last night.
Are you sure, or is desire still interfering with your judgment?
He ignored the voice. His judgment was sound. Staying was the only rational choice.
“My lord!” Harry Fields raced out of the stable yard as Blake approached, skidding to a halt barely a foot away. “I found it!”
“Keep your voice down,” he advised. “What did you find?”
“T’ proof against Master Jasper,” he whispered, his eyes glowing with excitement.
Blake glanced around. A groom lounged against a post, overseeing two stableboys as they raked droppings into a pile. Groundskeepers continued clipping. Catherine was nowhere in sight, but she might still be in the rose garden. Mary and Sarah remained in the folly. “This way, Harry.” He gestured toward the drive.