By the end of the evening, he was more than glad to leave, although there was a part of him that wished to stay with Lady Scartwick. On the way home in the carriage, as their mother half dozed on the opposite seat, Faith leaned close against him and whispered to him.
“Drummond, what has happened? For something has changed, do not try to deny it – they are treating you differently. And I hear whispers, although they all stop as soon as I get near. Do tell me, oh frustratingly secretive brother.”
Sin looked at her, and schooled his face to impassive calm.
“No, dear sister, I will not tell you anything. I will not even confirm that there is anything to tell. I will leave everything to your powers of observation.”
“Hmmph! You are so annoying sometimes!”
But she left it at that, for which he was grateful.
~~~~~
The next few weeks passed quickly, and the plan proceeded as it had been designed to. Marion began, just a little, to relax.
It fascinated her how easily the ton could be manipulated, and she regarded her now mother-in-law with awe. She had known that Sylvia was most intelligent, outspoken, and determined to do good in the world, but Marion had never before truly understood the depth of her skill with people, and the complexities which her mind unravelled easily. Ball after Ball, dinner and soiree passed with the flow of expertly started rumours drifting around the ton, tangled with, and augmented by, the rumours about Cardston, and Lord Hungerwood’s heroics in the Park. And each time she heard them, they were a little more favourable to Lord Hungerwood, and a little less so to his deceased brother.
It seemed that people were quite ready to believe ill of the dead, and good of the living, when encouraged the right way. The friendship of Dukes and other significant persons had not gone unnoticed either, and Marion was delighted to see the attitudes to Lord Hungerwood shift, as people greeted him more warmly, and invited him to more events than before. He seemed less tense, less on edge now, too, and even sometimes laughed with friends, rather than standing aloof.
Best of all, apart from the improvement in Lord Hungerwood’s status, it seemed that Cardston’s fall from grace and disappearance had made an impact upon the rest of the ‘old crowd’ who had been there, pressing themselves upon her, just after Martin’s death. Now, they no longer attempted to speak to her. They did not cut her, but they did avoid her, especially when Lord Hungerwood was near. Her fear of them was fading with every evening spent free of their impolite presence.
She danced with Lord Hungerwood, walked in gardens with him, and allowed him to kiss her, more than once.
And with every day that passed, she became more certain that her feelings for him were deeper than she had ever expected, far deeper than just gratitude for his saving Daniel. But what was the character of his feelings for her? She did not truly know – not yet, at least.
Finally, as the Season was drawing to a close, there came the point when the last of the rumours had been released quietly amongst the gossips. And, true to the pattern of the weeks that had gone by, it was soon being whispered at each occasion when people came together – it was simple – the idea that, with all that had been revealed, the only conclusion possible was that, in fact, the current Lord Hungerwood was a deeply honourable man, one who had sacrificed himself for his family’s sake.
Just hearing it whispered made Marion happy. Soon, perhaps, they might explore what they felt for each other, now that the world had begun to see him differently, now that the ills of the past were well on their way to being healed. As Marion dressed for a Ball at Lady Chesterton’s, to be one of the last Balls before the Season wound down into summer, she wondered what might happen next. And, perhaps for the first time in ten years, all of the options which she could picture were at least pleasant, rather than bad.
~~~~~
Sin stared at himself in the mirror. Carlton had worked his magic with cravats and hair again, making Sin look the perfectly turned out gentleman. And, as a reflection of his growing optimism, for the first time, he had added colour to his attire.
The deep blue of the brocaded waistcoat brought out the blue of his eyes, and made him wonder why he had avoided colour for so long. From now on, he vowed to indulge in it often.
The carriage trip was short, this evening’s event being held not far from his home, and the warmth of the summer twilight made him happy to leave the carriage window open, to catch whatever breeze there might be. He looked out as they travelled the streets, and realised that, somewhere in the last few months, London had become normal again – he no longer expected the brightly coloured houses of the West Indies, or the colonial style of the Americas. London had become, somehow, against his expectations, home again.
Once they arrived at Lady Chesterton’s, the evening proceeded as expected – he was greeted by friends, flirted with by young ladies, and generally welcomed. And, of course, gossiped about. It had become ordinary to him, for that to be so, but there was a new pleasure in hearing the whispers, for they spoke of his honourable nature, of his heroic character. He cared not one whit whether they thought him a hero, but he cared beyond measure that they thought him honourable.
He danced, as always, with an assortment of increasingly hopeful young women, and waited for the moment when he might waltz with Lady Scartwick. For she always kept the waltz on her dance card for him. When that moment came, he swept her to the floor, and into his arms, and she laughed at his enthusiasm. He laughed with her, as the music carried them into that place where all else became irrelevant.
“My Lady, I do believe that the plan can be said to have worked, well beyond my hopes and expectations – do you agree?”
“I do, my Lord.”
“Then may I ask, my Lady, if I might call upon you, if I might allow the world to see that I care for you?”
Her eyes widened at his words, and for an instant, he feared her answer, feared that she would not permit it – he knew, quite certainly in that moment, that he would do anything to spend more time with this woman – anything at all. And that was quite the most terrifying thought that he had ever had in his life. Then, freeing him from his immediate fear, she smiled broadly, and answered him.
“I believe that I would enjoy that, my Lord.”
He pulled her a little closer to him, so close that it was almost scandalous, and inhaled the clean scent of her hair as he whispered in her ear.
“Then you may expect me tomorrow, my Lady, most likely at an hour far too early for polite morning calls.”
She said nothing more, but her smile was enough. When the music ended, he led her back to the Duke, and stood talking with the Duke and Duchess for some time. As they spoke, there came a commotion at the door. Looking up, Sin almost gasped. There, in the entry, stood the Prince Regent, accompanied as always by those who clung to his coattails, hoping to achieve vicarious importance.
The Duchess made a small sound, and Sin looked to her. She smiled, and whispered, “Setford has achieved miracles, as usual. I am pleased.”
“Setford?”
“There, near the Prince – the inconspicuous one.”
“Ah, yes, I remember seeing him before – in the Park with you?”
“Yes.”
At that moment, the Prince Regent and his entourage began to move into the room, having greeted the host and hostess. It appeared to Sin that Lord Setford had said something to the Prince, and indicated their direction. Sure enough, the Prince Regent was coming towards them. Time slowed - the moment was almost as frightening as the moment before a ship went into battle – a stillness within which anything might happen, no matter how well planned the approach had been.
Then the Prince Regent was upon them, and Sin bowed, the deep court bow that he had been schooled in, but never expected to use, as Lady Scartwick beside him sank into a deep curtsey, her movement fluid and elegantly controlled.
“Up, up. Let me see you, Hungerwood. I have been hearing much of you lately – most interestin
g gossip indeed. And Setford informs me that it is, in the vast majority, true. If that is the case, then you are a man of rare honour and ability. Tell me – are the descriptions of your athletic leap from horse to speeding carriage accurate? Or do these fools exaggerate?”
Sin swallowed – what on earth could he say?
“Your Highness, as I have not heard, myself, the descriptions you speak of, I cannot be entirely sure of their veracity. But yes, I did leap from my galloping horse onto a speeding carriage, which was being driven rather erratically at the time, by a man intent on mischief of the worst kind.”
“Hah! Excellent! No wonder the women flock to you.”
Sin blinked, unsure how to respond to that, but the Prince Regent went on.
“You have far more style and character than the fops who surround me, well matched with looks and honour.” The Prince Regent’s eyes turned to Lady Scartwick, who stood quietly beside Sin. He regarded her a moment, appreciatively. “But I see that you have good taste in women too. Lady Scartwick, is it not?”
Lady Scartwick curtseyed again, rising quickly.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“You could do worse than Hungerwood, far worse, my Lady. Your son would do well with a man like him as a parent. But, of course, you will do as you will, sensible or not – for women are fickle creatures.”
Lady Scartwick blushed, and the Prince Regent’s toadies all laughed at his jest, but the words struck hard to Sin’s heart. For the very idea that she might ever marry – anyone but him, that is - caused him deep pain. His path became utterly clear in that moment. Lady Scartwick waited for the laughter to die, then spoke again, her voice quiet but clear.
“I do believe that you have the right of it, Your Highness – about Lord Hungerwood, that is, for I may perhaps take exception to the implication that I am fickle.”
The Prince Regent looked at her, startled and delighted.
“This one has courage. I’d heard that, but it is good to see it proven. A good match, I think. Do remember to invite me to the wedding.”
Both Sin and Lady Scartwick stood, stunned.
The Prince Regent turned away, obviously finished with what he had wanted to say to them, and spoke to the Duke and Duchess.
Sin said nothing, but could not help but reach out and take her hand. She threaded her fingers through his, and he tightened his hold for a moment. Words had become unnecessary. Then he released her, and they simply stood, as the Prince Regent moved on about the room, speaking to various people. In his wake, people began to come to Sin – people who had still not overcome their reserve about him, until now. It seemed that the Prince Regent’s obvious favour had broken down the last barriers.
An hour or more later, after the Prince Regent had departed, and the schedule of dances and supper had been re-established, Sin turned to Lady Scartwick, as the orchestra struck up for the second waltz of the night. Her green eyes drew him in, and he knew now that the Prince Regent was utterly right. They were a good match – but did she agree? Could she accept him as a serious suitor, after all that had happened?
There was but one way to find out.
“My Lady, we spoke long ago about the comparative scandalousness of me dancing with you two nights running, or twice in one night. I feel that I am ready to explore that to the full – will you grant me this dance?”
Her eyes sparkled, and she tipped her head slightly, studying him, before she spoke.
“I seem to remember, my Lord, that you said, then, that you were not certain of your own intent. Are you certain now?”
“Quite, quite certain, my Lady.”
“Then yes, I will grant you this second dance of the evening.”
Chapter Fifteen
When they reached home that evening, Sin was ready to simply collapse into bed, but his mother stopped him as he went towards the stairs.
“Drummond. A word, if you will.” She led him into the parlour, and Faith followed. “How did you do it? For I am sure that you arranged it. How did you cause this change of attitude from the ton, over these last weeks?”
Faith looked on, obviously as keen to hear his answer as their mother was. Sin sighed, unable to blame them for asking, but wondering exactly what he might say. As he hesitated, Faith spoke.
“It started when those rumours started – about Hugh. Where did that come from? For what was said was truthful – embarrassing, but truthful – bad enough to be mildly scandalous, given the way that he died, but not so bad as to tarnish our reputation much further.”
“It did start then.”
She looked at him, her eyes narrowed.
“You know where the rumours came from, don’t you?”
Sin gave in – Faith would not let it rest, he was quite sure.
“I do, although I will not tell you the details. We have friends – people that I never, ever, expected could be our friends – and circumstances meant that they needed to know the truth of that fateful night. I expected nothing from them, but they chose to help me, to help us.”
“That drama in the Park – that you brushed off as simply doing the right thing – there is more to that too, isn’t there – it’s all connected, isn’t it?”
“It is. Faith, you are far too astute for my peace of mind!”
Their mother laughed at his words, then asked the question that had hung unspoken in the room until then.
“Who? Who has done this for us? Or perhaps I can guess, based on the first people whose attitude seemed to change towards you. It was the Duke of Windemere, wasn’t it? Yet… I do not understand why he might care to assist us, after all the duel that sent you from England brought his son’s death – I would expect him to hate us, and rightly so.”
“Why? Because that carriage that I stopped in the Park – it contained his grandson, and the man who drove it had kidnapped the boy.”
“Oh! That does make far more sense of it all. But even so, for him to do this – for he introduced you to others, did he not? Others who treated you as friend, for all to see?”
“He did. He is a kinder man than I deserved to ever meet.”
Faith eyed him, her mind obviously working rapidly.
“There is more, isn’t there. You have come to care for Lady Scartwick, that much is obvious, and you saved her son. So I must ask – has she come to care for you?”
“I hope so. What will come of it, I do not yet know, but I call upon her tomorrow.”
“Good. For she has become a friend I do not wish to lose.”
~~~~~
Marian woke slowly, as the early summer sun filled the room with golden warmth. Had it been a dream? No, she was sure that it had been real. The Prince Regent… and what he had said… it had almost been a command, coming from him.
To marry Lord Hungerwood… she had shied away from even thinking about their relationship going so far. Yet, when it had been so baldly placed before her as an idea, she had felt no rejection of it. Rather, a pleasant warmth had run through her at the thought. But… if it should go so far, what would Daniel think?
That concerned her, for she could never marry a man that Daniel did not like. At that she laughed – here she was, considering it as if, just because the Prince Regent had said it, it was a given – Lord Hungerwood had not asked her, and might never do so. Yet… he had asked for that second dance last night, and it had not gone unnoticed by the assembled cream of society.
She rose, and went to dress.
There was no point maundering on about it in her mind. If Lord Hungerwood was true to his word, he would call upon her today. And Daniel would see him then, she would make sure of it – he had, after all, on that dreadful day when Cardston had nearly stolen Daniel, asked that he might see the boy again.
They did not go to the Park that morning, for everyone had overslept, after the eventful evening before. Everyone, that is, except Daniel, who was, she discovered, running madly around the garden, while Nanny sat on a bench in the middle, watching him, and attempting
to prevent the worst damage to the flower beds.
She joined Nanny for a while, then went to break her fast. She found herself eager for Lord Hungerwood’s arrival, yet nervous – for after last night, things could never be the same again. Not that she wanted them to be – she was ready for change – but would the change which came be what she wanted? Did she, for that matter, even know what she really wanted?
After eating, she selected a book from the library, and settled herself in the parlour. But she could not concentrate. The previous evening replayed itself in her mind, and every nuance of Lord Hungerwood’s reactions came back to her. Did he mean…? Did he feel…? Was she correct if she assumed that…? It was pointless, for she had no answers. In the end, she laid the book down upon the side table, and simply stared out the window, idly watching people come and go in the street below.
Eventually, she saw an elegant phaeton turn the corner, and draw up before the house. She rang for the maid.
“Please ask Nanny to bring Master Daniel to the parlour in about ten minutes.”
“Yes, my Lady.”
The maid bobbed a curtsey and went. Marion walked back to the window – the phaeton stood, a footman holding the horses – Lord Hungerwood was nowhere in sight. She turned to go back to her seat, when a tap came at the door.
“Enter.”
“Lord Hungerwood, my Lady.”
The footman showed him in, and closed the door after him.
Marion stood, suddenly unsure of how to go on. He came to her, took her hand, and bowed, his fingers pressing hers tightly. When he rose from the bow, their eyes locked, and they stood, silent, yet so much passed between them that it left Marion utterly breathless.
He leant forward, and brushed his lips over hers, softly, yet with an intensity which seared Marion to her core. Then he moved back, releasing her hand, everything that was proper, in a moment. She felt the loss of his touch acutely. As she searched for words, there came another tap on the door. Before she could speak, it opened, and Daniel came rushing in. He had almost reached her when he realised that there was another person present.
Restoring the Earl's Honour: Sweet and Clean Regency Romance (His Majesty's Hounds Book 17) Page 12