by Mary Brendan - Society Scandals 01 - The Rake's Ruined Lady
‘It’s a shame he didn’t think to come and tell me,’ Hugh pointed out, in a tone of voice that caused Verity to squirm on her spouse’s behalf.
The little party exited the gaming room, Bea and Dolly escorted by Hugh, and the sisters marching right behind them.
Feeling light-headed with embarrassment, Bea involuntarily gripped tighter to the muscled flesh beneath her fingers, causing Hugh to smile encouragement at her. She snapped her head higher, her eyes steadily on the exit...until she came level with Colin and their gazes merged. His brows were drawn together, making him seem puzzled rather than disapproving. However, Bea noticed that Stella and her aunt looked to be relishing her disgrace.
* * *
‘Is this evening’s blasted bad luck never to end?’ Dolly cried, hands jigging in distress. She peered up and down the road, seeking any sign of a coach bearing the Blackthorne coat of arms.
‘It doesn’t matter that the coach has disappeared,’ Hugh said mildly, flicking his fingers to attract his servant’s attention. Immediately a sleek vehicle stationed at the opposite kerb was steered to a halt in front of them.
‘It doesn’t matter? I think the viscount might disagree on that!’ Dolly shrilled, already tottering gratefully towards the open door of Hugh’s transport.
A moment ago they had descended the stone steps from the Whitleys’ townhouse to find that Viscount Blackthorne’s carriage was nowhere to be seen. On questioning one of the footmen stationed at the base of the steps, Hugh had ascertained that the vehicle had left almost as soon as it had dropped off its occupants. The servant had guessed why that was, and so had Hugh: the driver had had an assignation to keep and had believed he’d time to see his sweetheart before returning. The unlucky swain had been caught out because his passengers were departing far earlier than expected.
‘You are good to us, sir, to help like this!’ Dolly’s belated thanks were heartfelt and thrown over a shoulder as a groom sprang from his perch at the back of the coach to assist her boarding.
Dolly had felt appalled at the idea of calling a Hackney, with no money to pay for it—and of course her niece now had not a penny on her either. All in all, Dolly deemed it a very bad ending to what had started as an enjoyable affair.
Wordlessly, Hugh extended a palm to Beatrice. For a moment their eyes tangled, and he could tell from her reticence in accepting his help that she suspected he might have an ulterior motive in offering her and her aunt a ride home. As indeed he did.
‘Do you want to walk back to Upper Brook Street?’ he suggested softly.
Beatrice nibbled her lower lip but finally placed her fingers in his. As she settled into the luxurious seat she kept her eyes averted from the man who’d leapt in and slammed the door then lounged opposite. She was alarmed by the thought that she was now unsure which Kendrick brother intended doing her reputation the most harm.
Chapter Fourteen
‘It is a bit late to make a fuss about etiquette, miss!’ Dolly snapped. ‘Your reputation has been patched up too many times for that. You are now beyond the pale and fortunate Mr Kendrick is willing to put himself out for you.’
Scooting forward on the seat, she profusely thanked Hugh for his assistance in helping her alight from his coach.
Turning to her niece, Dolly poked her head into the vehicle’s interior. ‘Don’t think your father shall remain in ignorance of this latest mischief. If you will not tell him that you have again added to his woes, then I shall.’
Beatrice had guessed her aunt had been simmering on the night’s shocking events on the way home to Marylebone. The journey had passed in virtual silence and every time Bea had tried to make a little conversation her aunt had barked at her. Even Bea’s quiet, stuttered apologies had been angrily flicked away by Dolly. As for the man ensconced opposite... Bea had tried to avoid looking his way, acutely conscious as she was of his powerful presence.
A few moments ago, when it had become clear from passing landmarks that Hugh had instructed his driver to head to her aunt’s house first, Bea had urgently whispered to Dolly that it would be seemly if she were the first to quit their Good Samaritan’s company. In response, her aunt had snappily overruled her.
‘Mrs Pearson is over-anxious; she’ll see things differently in the morning.’
Bea glanced at the pair of broad shoulders easing into the squabs as the coach once more set off. ‘I think you are being over-optimistic, sir,’ she murmured.
‘Do you? Why?’
‘Because in the morning things will be worse, not better, than they are now,’ Bea answered unsteadily. ‘And well you know it. So if you are trying to kindly make light of my folly...please do not bother. I must face the consequences of my actions. I am not a child.’
‘I know you’re not a child, Beatrice...far from it...’
There was an insinuation in his husky reply that put Bea on her guard as she peeked at him from beneath thick lashes. Ever since he’d helped her into his coach an idea had been circling her mind that he might try to take advantage of her predicament. He’d told her weeks ago to consider his offer of protection. Then she had been a jilted spinster, living with an ageing parent. Now her position—and her father’s—was even more precarious, due to her foolhardiness.
Bea hated the idea of her father taking on the burden of her debt; neither did she want to seek help from Viscount Blackthorne. Walter would be mortified to discover that money had been borrowed from his son-in-law to pay off his dependant daughter’s gambling debts.
Queasiness in her stomach—part excitement, part dread—made Beatrice fidget on the seat. She had a feeling that she’d given Hugh Kendrick an opportunity to remind her why she should become his mistress. And many women of her age and unfortunate position might listen to such a rich and charismatic man’s persuasion...
‘When we last spoke you seemed determined not to come to town. What changed your mind?’
The unexpected question jolted Bea from her reflection into stuttering a reply. ‘My father...well, both of us, actually...decided we would after all like to stay with Elise for a week or two.’
‘Did the fact that Burnett was in London have a bearing on that decision?’
‘I’m not sure it is any of your business either way,’ Bea returned stiltedly, her indignation rising as a flash of white teeth in the dusk demonstrated that her tartness hadn’t bothered him.
Hugh hauled his back from the upholstery to lean towards her. His eyes slanted up at her mutinous profile. ‘Are you expecting the good doctor to sort out this evening’s mess for you, Beatrice?’ he suggested.
Bea swung an astonished face towards him. ‘No, of course not. What on earth made you think he’d offer to do so?’
Hugh shrugged, brushed a speck from a dark sleeve. ‘It’s what a gentleman does for a woman he cares for.’
Bea moistened her lips, trying to fathom his meaning. ‘Sir Colin now cares for Miss Rawlings, as you know.’
‘So he does...’ Hugh dulcetly concurred, straightening on the seat. ‘But perhaps he cares for you too. Does he?’ His lazy tone had turned demanding.
‘If you think that just because I went out of my way to speak to him this evening that I am trying to wriggle back into Colin’s life, then you are mistaken, sir.’ Bea’s fists were planted either side of her on the seat as though she might shoot upright at any moment.
‘You’re to be commended for treating the couple civilly. Burnett seemed pleased you had, and might approach you next time rather than the other way around. Will you encourage him?’
Finally understanding his hints, Bea gave him an icy glare. She had nobody to blame but herself for him thinking what he did. That particular seed had been sown in Hugh’s mind when she’d declared she’d sooner be Colin’s mistress than his wife. Stupidly she’d flung at Hugh intentionally wounding words, uttered thoughtlessly, and they’d returned to haunt her.
‘If you believe that Sir Colin Burnett might pay your brother off for me if I sleep with him
then you are utterly wrong,’ she breathed. ‘You should not apply your own lax morals to others. He is a respectful gentleman, and besides he has not yet settled his own account with my father...’ Beatrice’s small teeth were suddenly clamped on her lower lip. She regretted that she’d disclosed details of Colin’s meanness.
‘Burnett owes your father money?’
‘It is none of your concern.’ Beatrice turned her head, watching the darkling street scene. She wished to be quickly home, to avoid any more awkward interrogation, yet part of her craved to continue savouring the dangerous thrill of Hugh Kendrick’s company.
‘No matter, if you’d rather not say...’ His voice was again as smooth as honey. ‘I’m sure Walter will be happy to oblige me with an answer.’
‘You will not speak to him about it!’
Her father might with alacrity take up any offer Hugh made to act as debt collector, especially once he discovered that his financial position had considerably worsened following her recklessness. There was already bad blood between Hugh and Colin. She had no intention of heightening their feud, and with it the damage to her reputation.
‘It’s likely everything is now resolved and resurrecting the matter will upset Papa.’ Bea hoped her blurted argument was effective.
‘I think you know it is not resolved,’ Hugh countered. ‘I think you intended giving your father your winnings to mitigate his losses. Am I right?’
It seemed pointless fibbing. She gave a single nod, glad the gloom concealed her chagrined blush. ‘Instead I have stupidly made things much worse.’
‘It was good of you to think of your father’s gains rather than your own.’
‘I owed it to him to try to help. My wedding expenses have left him out of pocket—’ Bea knew it was silly continuing to pretend her father had been paid up.
‘It’s Burnett’s duty to make amends, not yours,’ Hugh interrupted mildly.
‘I know...’ Bea sighed, staring at her clasped hands. ‘And he said he would.’
‘Perhaps you of all people should know that his promises are not worth the paper they are written on.’
Again Bea felt her face heating beneath his soft sarcasm. But she couldn’t deny that his criticism of Colin was accurate and well-deserved.
‘There is a solution.’
Again Hugh closed the gap between them so their heads were mere inches apart.
Bea felt her heart cease pounding, then resume with breathtaking speed. Eyes that gleamed like black diamonds in the coach’s interior had entrapped her and she steeled herself not to flinch when a long cool finger circled with seductive slowness on her burning cheek.
‘I know we’ve had our differences. I know you don’t trust me because I’ve let you down in the past.’ Hugh took one of her hands, raising it and touching his lips to her fingertips. ‘I admit I pursued you, told you I wanted to marry you, all to no end. But I didn’t lie and I withdrew from your life the moment I realised I could not raise enough cash to take a wife.’
Hugh paused, angled his head to watch her averted profile.
‘Throughout our friendship we were always very compatible indeed...in one way. I believe we still are, and I want to prove it to you.’ His hand opened, forked on her narrow chin as he turned her towards him. ‘Forget Burnett. He’s not worthy of you; he never was. I can protect you and easily deal with my brother’s spite.’ Without warning his mouth covered hers, expertly parting her lips, daring her to deny his next brutally honest words. ‘Where’s the shame in mutual pleasure, or in letting me care for you and your father?’
Bea couldn’t deny it...or him... Her mouth softened beneath his renewed wooing and when he lifted her onto his lap with a groan of frustration her instinctive resistance was easily overcome.
Hugh’s hands plunged beneath her cloak, caressing her midriff, his thumbs thrusting upwards to tease the hardening nubs beneath her bodice. Bea continued a token struggle and yet her back began arching so she might have more of his rapacious touch. It was all the permission Hugh needed to sweep his mouth down the slender column of her throat to the undulation of her bosom, tempting him closer with every panted inhalation.
‘Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll leave you be,’ Hugh growled, his breath steaming against her milky skin.
He raised his head from her naked throat to read her expression but Bea moaned, tightening her fingers on his nape, wanting more of the tantalising magic of his cool, clever mouth soothing her fever.
Hugh smiled. ‘Is that a yes to my offer of carte blanche, sweetheart?’ he murmured as some of his long fingers disappeared into her cleavage, curving beneath a warm breast so he might feast on the satiny flesh with eyes and mouth.
Bea gasped at the exquisite delight of cold air and hot tongue on her sensitive nipples and when he began to draw upwards the silk of her skirts her protest was lost in an instant beneath the onslaught of an erotically demanding kiss.
His stroking fingers slipped to the smooth skin of an inner thigh, just one insinuating itself beneath the lawn of her undergarments to fondle her a fraction away from the core of her femininity.
Bea writhed against him, parted her limbs in wonderment as a tingle streaked through her veins. No man had ever before touched her so intimately, and as he fractionally entered her with a fingertip a jolt of untasted pleasure made her panic and ram together her knees. Hugh groaned a chuckle, dipping his head to skilfully suckle a taut nipple, drawing her back into his web of desire.
Bea squirmed on his lap, and when his hand again slipped beneath her skirt she made no effort to stop him knuckling the sensitive dewy bud hidden in crisp curls. She bucked her hips to nudge the instrument of her delight, allowing him to reposition her so she was straddling his body, then pressing her pelvis willingly against his solid torso. The rocking motion of the coach was tormenting her, as was Hugh’s long, drugging kiss. His tongue thrust little by little into her in time with the fingers he was moving between her legs. Bea’s whimpering gasps became louder, her body more tense as inner friction mounted towards an unknown crescendo.
‘I promise I’ll never leave you,’ Hugh whispered against the febrile heat of her shoulder. ‘Should I marry to get an heir I swear I’ll still want you in my life. I won’t abandon you, Beatrice...’
It seemed to Beatrice that his vow of loyalty came from a long way off and was intended to lull her; yet it instantly stole away her bliss. When his mouth swooped again to hers she shook her head, freeing her lips, and two small fists were jammed between them, holding him at bay.
Struggling to keep her footing in the swaying coach, she slapped away hands that would have dragged her back and stumbled against the opposite seat, skimming over the hide to huddle in the furthest corner. Tugging down her clothes, she whipped aside her face, closing her stinging eyes.
‘Your future wife need fear no rival in me,’ she croaked, feeling desperately ashamed of what she’d let him do to her. She knew just seconds ago she had been close to crying out in rapture and was thankful she’d called a halt before losing all control. Trapped in his seductive net a moment longer she might have ended up pinned beneath him on the seat, a willing party to her thorough ruination.
‘And your future husband—whoever he may be—has no rival in me,’ Hugh returned quietly. ‘So long as we adhere to the accepted rules, my dear, where would be the harm in carrying on enjoying each other’s company?
‘The harm would be in the deceit and the hurt to other people, and it is telling that you do not understand that. If I should marry, my husband will know he can trust me when I pledge to love and lie with only him. In return I would expect to be equally honoured.’
Hugh laughed soundlessly. ‘You are holding out for a love-match, are you, and a faithful spouse?’
‘Don’t you dare mock me,’ Bea cried. ‘You might intend seeking a wife to improve your status but such mercenary plans are abhorrent to me.’
‘I’m not mocking you, my dear. I’m impressed...but dubious y
ou’ll get what you want. Most married couples of my acquaintance have...other attachments...’
‘Is my brother-in-law being unfaithful to Elise?’ Bea whispered. She had always admired her sister’s seemingly perfect relationship with Alex Blackthorne, and would be devastated to know it was a sham because he kept a mistress.
‘There’s always an exception to prove the rule,’ Hugh replied gently. ‘To my knowledge Alex is enviably content in every way with your sister.’
Bea expelled a pent-up breath.
‘It would sadden you to know otherwise, wouldn’t it?’ Hugh murmured.
‘Of course...Elise would be devastated. Alex is the love of her life.’
‘And Burnett...was he the love of your life?’ Hugh asked in a voice devoid of emotion.
‘I have given up on love...’ Bea prevaricated, gazing through the coach window.
‘You just said you would marry for love...’
Bea choked a bitter little laugh. ‘So I did, and thus will need to remain a spinster—for the likelihood of finding somebody suitable is remote.’
‘Spinsters are entitled to get pleasure from life, Beatrice...discreetly, perhaps, and with no hurt caused to anybody else.’
‘Apart from your wife...’
‘Alas...like you, I fear I might be doomed to a single life,’ he returned solemnly.
‘I have said do not mock me,’ Beatrice answered levelly while continuing to watch the stars. Her anger and embarrassment seemed to have drained away, leaving her calmer.
‘I wasn’t. I was telling the truth. Why do you feel you must deny yourself the comfort I offer?’
Hugh stretched out a hand but Bea knocked away his fingers.
‘Are you going to tell me you didn’t like what we just did?’ he taunted.
‘I’m going to tell you never to touch me again,’ Bea said. ‘Keep your empty promises and your payments for services rendered for your courtesans. They are sure to appreciate them, whereas I do not.’ She met his gaze squarely, unflinchingly. ‘You will not degrade me with your lust any more than will your brother with his malice.’