“He’ll pay for what he’s done to this family, Bea.” He tapped his cane on the lawn in annoyance. “Destroying his good standing will be the only thing worth accomplishing this season.”
Warren’s carriage jolted forward, carrying Lady Charlotte. Their gazes snapped as she left Berkley Square and then he was forced to return his attention to his family. He fingered the small letter in his hand and slid it into his vest pocket. He was eager to read the contents, impatient to see what secrets Lady Charlotte revealed on the pages.
“Forget about him. He’s not worth the grief.”
He was still watching the carriage from the corner of his eye—not a smart idea as half the ton was scrutinizing him as he mingled in polite society with his children in tow.
He turned his back on his foe and the intriguing lady he wanted to learn so much more about, and helped his family gather up the items from their picnic. Warren would pay for his misdeeds. And it would be sweet revenge to win over the lady set to be that man’s wife.
Chapter 7
Mr. T____ was out and about in the company of a female relation. A lady not often in society, not since her engagement with that scoundrel Lord M____ was called off last summer. Friendly and ebullient as ever, the poor creature was still shunned by all but one man lurking in the shadows watching her. Dare I say it almost looked to be Lord M____ himself?
—The Mayfair Chronicles, May 1846
Tristan locked himself in his study and looked at the parchment he’d taken from Lady Charlotte’s palm. Had she known he was going to be out with his family? Or was it happenstance that had them meeting in so public a setting? She hadn’t seemed put out by his children’s presence. He should care less about that, but for some reason her opinion of him mattered since he’d revealed the truth to her.
He slid an opener beneath the wax seal fashioned in the form of an ibis. The intoxicating scent of rose water that had been dabbed on the letter wafted up to his nose as he unfolded the parchment. It started: “Dear letter holder.” Smart on Lady Charlotte’s part. Should the letter contain any information that might compromise her, she’d not be easily identified.
I really don’t know what has propelled me to pen such a letter as this, but it must be done because I feel as though I have not swayed you completely to my favor. Since our very first meeting, I knew that we could benefit from each other’s company. Though you might think otherwise, I believe that we are kindred spirits with a similar attitude toward society as a whole. I do not wish to be a mere subject, a marionette for others to master, but instead I aspire to be a woman who cannot be controlled by those who consider themselves superior to all others.
Tristan put the letter down. How was it that someone so young could be so aware of the machinations of society? Intrigued didn’t come close to describing what he felt. He read on:
I attend a few more events before the annual Carleton house party is upon us. However, I do not expect your presence since you are rarely seen attending social functions during the season. I’ve taken note of you because I believe you can help me accomplish something that will forever guarantee my independence from society. Are you asking yourself why you should help me at all? Well, the scandal will be simply decadent, and I think you will be unable to resist such temptation.
But really, I might as well get down to the essence: I know that you stand on the opposing side of my father where politics are concerned; and while I don’t pretend to understand all that happens in such matters, I do know that my father will lose sway if his daughter is not brought to heel. Even though my father dotes upon me, he has made a grave decision, against my wishes, to marry me to a man I loathe.
I will not trap you in a marriage neither of us wants, but I do think you are the key to my freedom from the bonds that will smother me over time. I am sure we can see eye to eye in this matter, and I look forward to your response. I attend the opera tonight, should you wish to make an appearance.
Tristan tapped his finger against the pages as he set them down on his desk. There was nothing damning in the letter. Should it end up in the wrong hands, the words would mean nothing. Stuffing the missive back in the envelope, he placed it inside the top drawer of his desk and leaned back in his chair to contemplate everything Lady Charlotte had just revealed.
She was right. Her father would lose face should another man make claim to his daughter. In fact, Tristan was sure that the old man’s alliance with Mr. Warren—who held the majority of sway in parliamentary matters—might very well be lost.
A knock came at his study door.
“Enter,” he called out.
Bea poked her head inside. As usual her lips were pursed in a tight line.
“You’re a welcome sight, Bea.” He stood and motioned to a chair across from his wide mahogany desk.
“I just wanted to see if you were all right.” Bea sat, curling her feet under her, as she was wont to do. “You seemed so enraged earlier that I thought it wise to check up on you.”
Tristan raised one brow. “Enraged? It wasn’t so bad as that.”
“You cannot act foolish where that man is concerned.”
“When am I ever foolish?”
“I’ll counter your question with another: are you planning something questionable?” Her earnestness had him smiling.
“You know me better than that, Bea. Have I not been a bloody pillar for you all these years?”
“You’ve done more for me than I deserved.”
Tristan drummed his fingers on the edge of his desk, annoyed. “Nonsense. You are my sister, questionable parentage or not.”
“I can never have the same status as you, Tristan. My name was ruined when our parents died.”
He did not share a mother with Bea, though they’d been raised to believe they were blood related and of equal status.
“That doesn’t give anyone the right to mistreat you, Bea.”
His sister looked away from him and toward the window. “You know I lost a lot of faith in myself when those letters were found.”
He nodded, even though she wasn’t looking at him. He, too, had lost a lot of faith in everything he thought he knew. Why did it always seem that when you thought your life was figured out, something would propel you in an unexpected and unanticipated direction?
“It’s been a long time since I thought about any of this.” His sister was contemplative, not seeing what was out the window, but looking at the past in her memories. Hopefully she was not reliving it as they discussed said past.
It hadn’t been a good time in either of their lives. It had taken them both a number of years to get their lives back on track after their parents’ deaths. Tristan finally had the estate in order, and Bea had seen her first season and had made a worthy match. Then it had all been taken away with the exposure of a few damning letters.
He hated to think what would have happened had he not been old enough to deal with the repercussions.
There was no use fretting over something that didn’t matter anymore. The past could not be changed. And giving the children a decent life was all that mattered to him and Bea now.
Bea gave him a questioning tilt of her head as she assessed him. “What did the girl give you at Gunter’s?”
Tristan grinned. “Saw that, did you? And I thought I was being so sly in greeting her.”
“I’ve raised the two most mischievous children God has ever gifted the planet with, and you didn’t think I would notice that something was passed between you two? Was it a letter?”
“What she gave me, my darling sister, was ammunition against a mutual foe.”
Bea raised one eyebrow and waited patiently to be enlightened.
“She’s to marry Mr. Warren before the year is out.” He held out his hand when his sister opened her mouth to ask how he knew. “Let me finish. The source is Jez. He mentioned his intention to marry the Ponsley girl at the reading of the will.”
“Of course.” Bea sat back heavily in the chair and stare
d down at her entwined fingers. “He’s to inherit everything that was hers, is he not?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” Tristan rested his elbows on the edge of his desk and steepled his fingers. “I can’t stop it from happening, nor can Jez. The will handicaps her gravely. Everything, including most of her inheritance, is entailed in the estate.”
“Will he toss her out so cruelly?” His sister looked away again, though he thought maybe she was fighting tears she didn’t want him to see. “I guess he will, considering her less than scrupulous behavior these past few years.”
“How right you are.” He stood, walked around the desk, and squeezed his sister’s shoulder affectionately. “I can’t stop him from taking the seat but I can make his life very difficult.”
Bea looked up at him, her eyes watery, but not one tear fell on her porcelain skin. “And would it be for your sake or for mine?”
“He has a debt owed to us both.”
“I’ve moved on from the past, Tristan.” She removed his hold from her shoulder and took his hand in hers. “You need to let go of what cannot be changed. I like how things are.”
“You’ve grown used to how things are, Bea. There is a difference.” He clasped her hand once more before releasing her. “I will never forget or forgive. Life would be so much different for you had he manned up and taken you as his wife. Instead…”
Instead the cad had left his sister pregnant and completely shunned by society.
Bea stood with a sigh, a look of calm about her. “I wouldn’t change my life back for the world, you know. Rowan is the best thing to have happened to me. And I would make the same mistake a thousand times over just to see his sweet, loving face smiling up at me.”
“Yes, but to truly celebrate your independence and the life you love, you should be able to call him son.”
She fisted her hand over her chest, grasping a locket that held pictures of their family. “I know in my heart that he is mine.”
Tristan put his hands in his pockets and watched Bea head for the door. “You are too kindhearted and gentle a soul, sister. Warren does not deserve your forgiveness.”
“And why not? I’ve moved on, and managed to build a decent life for myself.”
Though she had a point, it didn’t mean Warren wouldn’t pay dearly for the undue suffering he’d caused Bea, whether Bea acknowledged the other man’s mistakes or not. Whether she forgave him or not.
Bea didn’t argue or agree with him, but she did give him a sad smile before she left the study to attend to her duties for the rest of the day.
Sitting back down at his desk, he pulled out a pen and dipped it in ink. He must return a letter to Lady Charlotte without delay. It simply wouldn’t do for her to find someone else to create the scandal of the season. Tristan would send away any man that tried to step in his path. Lady Charlotte was his and his alone.
Examining why that was so might prove interesting but would have to wait for another time. The one certainty he had was that once he won Lady Charlotte’s affections, he would stare Warren in the eye and dare him to challenge him. Had his sister revealed the whole truth of her ruin at the time her name was put through the wringer, Tristan would have challenged Warren then, but as it was, too much time had passed, and now an end needed to be found so he could move on.
My dearest lady,
There was no end to my delight upon opening your missive. And the enticement to create a social flurry spoke of a kindred spirit indeed. Intrigue me further—the Zoological Society, one in the afternoon. I will find you.
Yours
He gazed down at the letter in his hands. There was nothing of significance that would indicate the author of the letter or its recipient. Tristan would have his valet deliver it personally to Lady Charlotte’s maid. Folding the letter, he tucked it into a plain envelope, heated wax over the back flap, and used the flat end of his seal to press it down. He tucked the letter in his breast pocket and headed toward his room.
Next, he needed to pay Hayden a visit and see what his friend had found out about Jez’s fortune. Jez was unlikely to marry again after the violence her husband had subjected her to. It was only fair that she be given a chance to live the independent life she craved and needed most.
Not that her receiving compensation for the horrendous marriage she had lived through would keep him from seeking to ruin the one man he reviled above all.
* * *
Charlotte hadn’t been to the Zoological Society since she was in apron strings. It felt wonderful and exhilarating and oddly nostalgic. How she’d convinced Genny to attend with her was a wonder. Her cousin had looked at her oddly when she requested that they visit a place reserved for family entertainment. But she didn’t care what her cousin might think because they’d have fun regardless.
The best part of it was that she’d managed to convince Ariel and her mother to attend, and, of course, Mr. Torrance and his sister had joined them. Charlotte hoped that because they were a large group, she would be able to sneak away from their company unnoticed.
Her heart skipped in her chest and her fingers shook with anticipation as they made their way from one cage to the next. She barely took note of all the animals; she was too eager to meet with the marquess and wondered when he would show himself to her.
Comments went around about the fowl that came from Canada and China in the same pen with a small pond. Directly across from them there were various species of geese. Next on their walk were the pelicans from the Americas—such a majestic bird with its odd, long beak that nearly touched the ground and a large pouch to hold fish in its mouth. The birds made loud squawking and coughing noises.
“Goodness, if I ever met a bird like that on the seaside, I’d probably run away terrified,” Lady Hargrove commented as the great white bird’s wings opened and flapped futilely and it made an odd growling noise.
Genny covered her ears. “What a dreadful sound it makes.”
“Indeed, madam,” Mr. Torrance said. “I don’t think the bird cares to impress us in the least. He’d rather steal fish from a fisherman’s net than amuse anyone visiting the zoo. He’s merely making his displeasure known.”
“I think the bird rather handsome,” Ariel said. “I can’t imagine they would be threatened in the wild, since they are so large.”
“It’s possible,” Charlotte said. “But I prefer the birds from the jungles around the world. The hyacinth macaw is a favorite of mine, actually.”
Everyone took her hint and moved along to the wired cages that housed a number of brightly colored parrots. They varied in size and color. Everyone oohed and aahed over the beautiful birds. When she came to the one she admired most, she put her hands against the wiring, wishing the bird would come closer. She clucked her tongue, trying to draw its attention, but the bird stared somewhere else, its head tilted inquisitively as it chawed loudly enough to make her ears ring. The blue of the bird was so vivid, so beautiful that she stood there staring at it for a spell.
Because her party had wandered off, she said to the bird, “You are far more majestic than any other bird here.”
“I wouldn’t get too close, Lady Charlotte. That bird is liable to take your thumb before you can blink,” a low, delectable voice said close to her ear.
Her heart slammed against her chest and an excitement she couldn’t possibly contain or explain overcame her. Instead of releasing the fence, her fingers curled tighter around the heavy wire.
She didn’t turn around because she knew who stood behind her, and she didn’t want to draw the notice of anyone from her party.
Finally able to think coherently, she dropped her hand away from the wire fence and took a step back … closer to him. Her skirts pushed forward when they pressed up against the man behind her. She closed her eyes to savor their proximity, and she swore there was a whole minute that she was unable to draw a single breath.
Why did he have this effect on her? Why couldn’t she remain cool and distant in her dealings with him
? Why did she want him to press close enough that they were touching? She reminded herself that she barely knew this man. Though that hadn’t stopped her from constantly thinking about him since their first meeting.
“Be at the monkey house in fifteen minutes, my lady. I will find you,” he promised. The back of his hand brushed a tantalizing line over her shoulder and down the length of her back to her hip.
She nodded and gave him a breathless, “I’ll be there.” She daren’t turn and reveal that she was talking with anyone. The marquess was her secret alone; she hadn’t even told Ariel yet that she was meeting the man in so public a setting and with so many potential witnesses, but she had every confidence that the marquess would keep his presence hidden from the rest of her party.
She’d been counting down the minutes till she saw him today, and now she’d have to wait a while longer. But how could she spend much time with him when her cousin was close at hand? Panic rose for a moment and she feared that the next encounter she would have with the marquess would be just as fleeting as the private words they’d just shared.
There was no denying that she wanted more. And what more with this man entailed she was all too eager to discover.
What was wrong with her? She took a few steps back from the cage and turned to follow her party farther into the park. She knew a flush covered her cheeks and was happy that she’d put on her powder this morning, so it would conceal the color on her face.
“The animals are exquisite,” Lady Hargrove said. “I don’t think I’ve been here since you and Ariel were eight years old.”
“Has it been so long?” Ariel mused.
Falling back a few steps, Genny chuckled next to Charlotte.
“What’s so amusing?” Charlotte asked.
They were coming upon the camel house. Next were the elephants if she was reading the map correctly, and then the monkeys. And the marquess.
Midnight Temptations With a Forbidden Lord Page 8