The air crackled with tension as the two men eyed each other. Christopher was icy cold, in complete control of himself, but a muscle in his cheek tightened almost imperceptible. Mark Barrington’s eyes were sullen, his mouth curled in defiance, the lower lips thrust out. He stared at Christopher’s menacing figure, who looked as though he could kill without blinking.
After summing up the situation, Christopher was the first to speak. His voice was calm, frighteningly calm. ‘So, Barrington, we meet again. Our last encounter was a memorable one as I recall. You still owe me—or has it slipped your mind.’
‘I’ve been in New Orleans and only recently returned to London.’
‘I trust you found New Orleans entertaining. There are enough gambling halls to satisfy even you. Although knowing your luck you probably lost a bundle,’ Christopher retorted with contempt.
Barrington shrugged. ‘It happens. New Orleans is a gambler’s paradise.’
‘If you want to squander your money, Barrington, it is no concern of mine. No doubt you have creditors as well as me who are baying for your blood.’
‘A few—but it might surprise you to know that I am here to settle my debt to you. New Orleans was lucky for me. I intend to return as soon as I am able.’
‘Good riddance, Barrington. Send me what you owe and disappear. My concern is for my sister and what she is doing here.’
‘Why, we met earlier today and I was most eager to renew our acquaintance, is that not so, Amelia?’
‘Yes,’ she said, her answer barely discernible.
‘Are you hurt?’ Christopher asked.
‘No. I’m sorry, Christopher. I saw Mark when I was at the shops. He—he said it would be good for us to meet—to talk. In a moment of impulsiveness I agreed. I—I know what he did to Lucy—how he hurt us both—but I had to see him. Try to understand, I beg of you. We parted suddenly. I had to know why he didn’t stay and fight for me—how he could have left me like that.’ She turned to Lucy. ‘I tried to see him as Christopher portrayed him—a calculating, conscienceless predator—but I wasn’t convinced—not until Christopher told me what he had tried to do to you and how many other women I didn’t know about. I was gullible and foolish—but I had to talk to him. After what happened to me—I—I couldn’t talk about it for a long time. It didn’t alter how I felt about him—how much I loved him. This way, seeing him again, will enable me to draw a line under it. I didn’t dare tell you, Christopher, because I knew you wouldn’t let me see him.’
‘You’re damn right I wouldn’t,’ Christopher ground out.
Amelia flinched from his wrath, tears beginning to run down her cheeks.
‘Did it not occur to you what his intentions were? Had it not been for Lucy remembering he was acquainted with Simon Bucklow we would never have found you.’
‘I’m so sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused,’ she cried. ‘I didn’t mean to.’
‘Christopher, please,’ said Lucy, going to sit beside her and putting a comforting arm round the distraught young woman. ‘Let us not go into this now. Amelia is clearly distraught.’
‘And now you have seen him,’ Christopher said, ‘what conclusion have you come to?’
‘We haven’t discussed what happened yet.’ She looked at Mark. ‘I hope you have not prepared some intricate fabrication for I shall not believe it.’
‘I’ve told you that the man is a dangerous opportunist, Amelia,’ Christopher retorted harshly, unable to believe what he was hearing. ‘Have you forgotten what he did to you—what he did to Lucy? Had she not fought back this devil would have raped her. The man should be horsewhipped.’
Barrington smiled smugly. His gaze went past Christopher and settled on Lucy. ‘I see you have brought your wife with you, Rockley.’ He smiled. ‘She appears to be none the worse for the assault you speak of.’
‘It was fortunate for you that she didn’t kill you after what you put her through.’
Barrington’s eyes narrowed and began to glitter dangerously. His smile was unpleasant as he shrugged himself away from the fireplace. ‘I’m not that easy to get rid of. The incident you speak of occurred over a year ago.’
‘‘It hardly matters how much time has passed as long as justice is done.’
‘There were no actual witnesses and I shall disavow any knowledge of that. Where the betrothal is concerned, the whole thing was concocted by Sofia, your stepmother,’ he pointed out, looking coldly at Lucy, ‘who, on the demise of your father, acted in your best interests by arranging your marriage—not an unusual occurrence, I might add.’
‘And you were eager to participate,’ Christopher bit back.
‘Of course, and in the eyes of English society so did Lucy—at least that is what everyone surmised when I introduced her as my fiancée—whom she jilted in favour of you. So you see, I was seen as the injured party.’
‘Not any longer. Are you aware that there is a warrant out for your arrest?’
‘I am. If you wish to call in the police from Bow Street, then do so and we’ll see what they have to say. But I think even you would prefer not to air our dirty linen in public. But,’ he said, looking from Amelia to Lucy, ‘if you feel honour must be satisfied then go ahead. Of course we could settle this as gentlemen and arrange pistols at dawn and all that, but you are by far the better shot, so killing me could indeed be construed as murder. No doubt the authorities would be reluctant to lock up the heir to a dukedom and it could be talked out of, but the scandal would get out and do your aristocratic name no good.’
‘I’m willing to risk it.’
The air inside the room was charged with tension as the two men faced each other, hate trembling in the air between them.
‘Please, Christopher—leave it,’ Lucy said. ‘I don’t want this, I don’t want anyone to be hurt.’ Christopher’s angry eyes bored into hers like daggers. ‘I mean it. Now is not the time to argue with your notions of honour.’
He nodded. ‘I suppose you are right, damn it. No matter how much I want to put this man behind bars, I can see no point in dredging up a scandal. It would serve no purpose. Your reputation is already tarnished thanks to this man, but I can see no reason to destroy Amelia’s.’
‘After what you did in Charleston, separating me from Amelia, you deserve to live in wretchedness till your life’s end,’ Barrington retorted. ‘I’m not proud of the way I treated her, but you had no right to separate us.’
Christopher’s mouth curled cruelly. ‘I had every right. She was underage at the time and both her parents were dead, leaving me her guardian. You didn’t put up much of a fight. The way I remember it, when you realised there would be nothing in it for you, you hotfooted it back to New Orleans. You didn’t give a damn what she might do.’
‘Do? Why, what did she do?’
‘Please, Christopher,’ Amelia cried. ‘He doesn’t know—I haven’t told him.’
Perplexed, Barrington looked from one to the other. ‘Told me? What haven’t you told me?’
‘Unable to live with the shame of what you had done to her, she tried to take her own life. I found her in time, thank God, but she lost the child.’
The silence that fell on the room was so profound that if anyone had entered at that moment they would have heard their hearts beating. Barrington’s face became filled with honest puzzlement as his mind took its time to register what Christopher was saying.
‘What the devil are you saying, Rockley?’
‘You mean to tell me,’ Christopher said, a sudden chill entering his bones, ‘that when you left my sister in Charleston you were unaware that she was carrying your child?’
Horror flashed into Barrington’s face. ‘She was to bear my child?’
‘You didn’t know?’
‘Of course not. My God,’ he said, looking at Amelia. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I would h
ave—if you hadn’t left me.’
He glared at Christopher. ‘Why didn’t you tell me when you insisted I leave her alone?’
‘Because I didn’t know, either. But later I thought you did.’
His shoulders sagging, as if all the life had drained out of him, Barrington lowered his head. ‘No.’ And he said nothing more. It was a quiet sound that hung between them, without anger or emotion, but it held all the cruel and bitter anguish which he felt.
‘I don’t think we have anything left to say to each other except that I will give you one week to settle your affairs. If, by that time, you are still in London, I shall have you arrested for the crime you committed against my wife and to hell with the scandal.’ Striding across the room, Christopher took the lapels of Barrington’s coat and thrust his face close to his. ‘If you ever touch either of these women again or even speak to them, I swear by everything I hold sacred that I will personally kill you. Do you understand, Barrington?’ Releasing his hold on his lapels, Christopher pushed him away. He turned to Lucy. ‘Let’s go. Amelia?’
Amelia got to her feet. She looked at the man who had caused her so much misery, the tears having dried. ‘Goodbye, Mark.’
Without a word the three of them left the room.
Lucy told Amelia’s maid to take her out to the carriage before turning to Christopher.
‘I did not expect Mr Barrington to be so affected by what he learned.’
‘No—and I feel no satisfaction for what I have just done, no sense of victory for overcoming a man who is my enemy—only a bitter taste of self-loathing, despising myself for having completely annihilated someone who believed he had every justification in the world to hate me.’
* * *
There was much relief and many questions when they arrived back home. Amelia was quiet, but not too downcast after seeing Mark Barrington. It was as if seeing him again had laid to rest any fears and questions that had been left unresolved. Before retiring for the night, she was already planning her social life for the following two weeks she was to remain in London with her grandfather.
It was a great relief when Lucy and Christopher closed the door to their room. Lady Sutton had returned to Curzon Street and the house was quiet. Seating himself in a chair beside the hearth, Christopher pulled Lucy down on to his lap.
‘I never thought I needed a wife to complete my life. Now I couldn’t imagine living without one.’
‘Well, that’s a relief,’ Lucy said, wrapping her arms around his neck and planting a kiss on his lips. ‘Although after just twenty-four hours you haven’t had much practice at being a husband.’
‘I intend to enjoy every minute of it,’ he murmured, nuzzling her neck. In his opinion this was a fine way to spend an evening, but sitting in a chair with his wife on his lap when there was a perfectly good bed in the room called for a change. Breaking the kiss, he stood up with her in his arms, a move that surprised her.
‘Where are you taking me?’
‘To bed,’ he said, trailing kisses along her throat as he carried her to the bed.
‘Why, do you feel like sleeping?’ she enquired softly.
‘The feel of you in my arms banishes all sleep from my mind, my love, and tempts me to exercise my husbandly rights. Today was the first day as husband and wife and it hasn’t turned out as either of us expected. So this is our time, to be enjoyed.’
‘How exciting,’ she murmured and placed a warm kiss on his lips.
He gave her a lusty look that made her heart skip a beat.
* * *
There followed a period of loving which left Lucy filled with a marvellous languor that glowed inside and warmed her whole body. Christopher’s kisses trapped the sensations inside her as love rushed to the surface to meet the outpouring of passion. Afterwards there was teasing and soft laughter, and Christopher looked at his wife, loving her. He was sprawled on the bed in a blissful state of collapse. Lucy looked at him and smiled to herself, overwhelmed with a shimmering happiness that seemed to sing inside her.
Rolling on to her stomach, she rested her arms on his chest and felt she had to question his frowning countenance. ‘You’re looking terribly fierce, my lord. Has something displeased you?’
‘We’re leaving.’
‘We are? And where are you taking me?’
‘Rockwood Park. I wish to be completely alone with my wife. We, my darling girl, are on our honeymoon. Grandfather has decided to remain in London with Amelia so we will have Rockwood Park all to ourselves—for at least two weeks.’
‘Alone?’ she murmured, preoccupied with the matt of hairs on his chest as she attempted to curl some of them round her finger. ‘And how do you suggest we pass the time?’
‘There are lots of things we can do. We could go walking or riding, or...should the weather turn against us, we could play cards—which I am very good at—as you already know—or chess, we could play chess. Do you play?’
‘Yes. I am quite good at it.’
‘So am I—as I am at a number of things, which brings me back to how to occupy our time. We could make love...’
‘Which you are also good at.’ He grinned. ‘Of which you have had plenty of practice, whereas I...’
‘Need to be taught.’
‘Since it is the only thing I cannot compete at, then I shall be happy to accept your tuition. I’m a fast learner and how will I learn if I don’t practise?’ she teased. ‘When do we start?’
* * *
If you enjoyed this story, why not check
out these other great reads by Helen Dickson
Carrying the Gentleman’s Secret
A Vow for an Heiress
The Governess’s Scandalous Marriage
Reunited at the King’s Court
Wedded for His Secret Child
Resisting Her Enemy Lord
Keep reading for an excerpt from A Proposal for the Unwed Mother by Lauri Robinson.
WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS BOOK FROM
Your romantic escape to the past.
Be seduced by the grandeur, drama and sumptuous detail of romances set in long-ago eras!
6 NEW BOOKS AVAILABLE EVERY MONTH!
A Proposal for the Unwed Mother
by Lauri Robinson
Chapter One
1927
Connor McCormick let out a curse and wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of one hand before he turned around, needing more pushing power. He grasped ahold of the bumper, braced his legs, and put his back up against his car. A Packard Phaeton, red and black, without a scratch on her. That was about to change if he couldn’t get the damn thing off the tracks before that train whistle got any closer!
The long, low-riding chassis of the four-door sports model had become high centered on the railroad tracks, in the middle of nowhere. There were plenty of places like this in upstate New York, where the farms were miles upon miles apart, nearly cut off from the rest of the world by rutted and narrow gravel roads. That’s why he was here, to bring these people a connection to family, friends and the world via his phone company. He’d already sold lines to three farms, and needed to sell at least a dozen more to make stringing the lines profitable, and he needed his car in order to do that!
He would call about this crossing as soon as possible. Tell the county that the spring rains had washed away most of the gravel, leaving the tracks exposed for any car to get stuck on. People could get killed!
The train blew its horn again. He couldn’t see it coming around the bend, but the ground beneath his feet was vibrating. He dug his heels deep into the gravel, drew in a deep breath that was full of the scents of the white pines and Norway spruce trees blocking his view of the oncoming train and pushed against the car so hard he growled at the exertion.
With a scraping of metal on metal, the car rolled, just an inch, but it was all he
needed. Heaving in a fortifying breath, he put everything he had into giving the car another hard push.
More metal-on-metal scraping sounded. So did another grunt, and just as he was about to give in long enough to suck in more air, the car broke loose and rolled over the tracks.
“Yes!” He ran, jumped in the open door, engaged the clutch and hit the ignition. The engine roared to life and he laid his foot on the gas. The tires kicked up gravel as the car shot forward, just as the train horn blared again and the locomotive rounded the curve at full speed, a mere five yards behind him.
The car’s top was down, and Connor kept his foot on the gas pedal to outrun the cloud of dust caused by his tires and the train. Exhilaration filled him. Life was full of challenges, and he thrived on them. Even being high centered on the railroad tracks.
Slapping the wheel, thrilled he’d won against that could-be disaster, he steered, along the winding road that would lead him to more houses where he would convince people they needed a telephone from the Rural Rochester Telephone Company.
The very company he’d started several years ago, and continued to grow each and every year since then.
He loved his life, he loved his automobile, he loved his family and friends, and the list of dolls who were always ready and willing to spend an evening of fun with him, but most of all, he loved his phone company. He’d been enthralled with phones from the time he’d been a small child, and wouldn’t change anything about his life. It was downright perfect.
The sun was shining, the sky bright blue, and whistling a tune, Connor drove the Phaeton along the dirt road, looking for the next driveway, the next farm that he’d convince they needed a phone line, one he’d gladly provide. For pennies on the dollar.
That was the best part. Unlike other companies, his phone lines were affordable, and the profit he made provided him a good living. The larger, more expensive companies had a monopoly on the city markets, had for years, that’s why, right from the get-go, he’d focused on the rural areas.
A Viscount to Save Her Reputation Page 22