by Rose Pearson
“Why ever not?” he retorted, spinning around to face her just as they approached the library door. “Why can you not wed me now that Lord Galsworthy has rejected you?”
Her heart cried out in pain as though he had struck her a knife blow.
“He has not rejected me,” she argued, determined to stand up to him despite her knowledge that Lord Galsworthy had done just that. “He is gone to his estate, which I well understand, given his responsibilities to the title and the fact that he has long been away from home. I am quite sure he will return just as soon as he is able.”
Lord Henry snorted. “I hardly think so,” he sneered, his face growing all the more terrible as he mocked her. “You must face the truth, Miss Weston. He is gone from you, just as he ran from you before. Why do you waste your time on a gentleman such as that, when one who is all the more suitable for you stands directly in front of you?”
“I know full well that you consider yourself to be such a gentleman,” she replied, revulsion continuing to fill her as she saw how he sneered at her. “But I could never marry you, Lord Henry, not even if you begged me on your knees. I would rather remain alone and become a spinster than wed you.”
His expression darkened and for a moment Marianne was afraid he might strike her, such was the anger on his face. Then, to her ever increasing horror, he dragged her into his arms and attempted to kiss her.
She fought him with everything she had, her mind screaming in fear as he tried to place his lips on hers. This was not the man she had thought Lord Henry to be, when they had first met. She had thought him amiable and considerate, and now here he was, attempting to force her into matrimony through any means he could. Flailing, she felt him push her back against the wall as though to pin her there. Using every bit of strength and courage she had, she fought his advances, one of her hands landing directly in his eye.
Lord Henry stumbled back with a yelp of pain, one hand pressed to his eye.
“You little witch!” he hissed, making to grab for her again, but Marianne dodged him easily enough, hurrying away from him.
“I will have you as my wife, Marianne!” he shouted after her as she stumbled away from him, desperate to reach the safety of her bedchamber. “No matter what you attempt, I will win in the end!”
He has gone quite mad, Marianne thought to herself as, gasping, she reached her bedchamber and flung the door open before shutting it again tightly. Leaning against it, she let herself sink to the floor, her legs growing tired and weak with the shock of what had just occurred. She did not know how long she remained there, but the tears flowed easily and she did not hold them back. Everything had turned from delight and joy into darkness and pain. Lord Galsworthy, the man she knew now that she loved desperately, had rejected her by deciding to run from her side yet again, leaving her to stand alone against the advances of Lord Henry. Lord Henry, the gentleman who had appeared to be kind, considerate and amicable and who, in fact, she had considered to be a friend, had now become her torturer, doing all he could to force her into a prison of his own making. There was no love in his advances, no considerations or genuine affection. He embodied all selfishness, all arrogance, all pride. She could never tie herself to him.
“Marianne?”
“Harriet!”
Scrambling to her feet, Marianne opened her door carefully to see her sister standing outside it, looking at her with great anxiety in her eyes.
“Whatever happened, Marianne?” Harriet asked, immediately reaching for Marianne’s hands. “Lord Henry said that you had a headache and had to retire to bed. Father did not seem to mind all that much, but I knew I had to come and see you at once. What did he do?”
“Oh, Harriet,” Marianne whispered, dissolving into tears. “He is desperate to wed me and will not accept my refusal of him.”
Harriet shook her head, her eyes growing angry. “There is more to Lord Henry than you know, Marianne. You must not allow him to weary you.”
“I will not go to his Ball tomorrow,” Marianne stated firmly, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I will have nothing more to do with him and even if Father presses me, I will not allow myself to be in his company any longer.”
“Oh, but you must go!” Harriet exclaimed, astonishing Marianne entirely. “You must go to Lord Henry’s Ball, Marianne. You must!”
Marianne, who had not expected this response, shook her head, feeling as though the entire world were set against her. “Why would you suggest such a thing?” she asked brokenly, pulling her hands from her sister’s. “After all that has just occurred, I cannot understand why you would –”
“Lord Galsworthy will be there,” Harriet replied, interrupting her.
Marianne felt her breath leave her body entirely, going quite limp as she stared at her sister. She was forced to collapse into a seat, her heart thundering wildly and her breathing ragged.
“I know this is a shock,” Harriet said, sitting down opposite her, and leaning forward in her chair. “I had meant to tell you all this afternoon, but Lord Henry was already present and so I could not do so.”
Marianne could barely breathe, one hand pressed hard against her stomach as she fought to drag in air. Her mind was whirling, confused beyond measure as she looked blankly back into Harriet’s eyes.
“I went to Lord Galsworthy’s townhouse in the hope that he had not yet left for the country,” Harriet explained as Marianne studied her sister with incomprehension. “I thought to rail at him, Marianne, for your sake. I was quite angry, I confess, but there is more to what has occurred than we know.”
Blinking furiously, Marianne forced her tears back realizing that her sister had attempted to do her a great kindness. “He was still in London?”
“He is still in London, and will be at the Ball tomorrow evening, although you must not say so to Lord Henry,” Harriet explained calmly. “Marianne, everything will become clear then, I promise you.”
Marianne drew in a shaking breath, closing her eyes so as to regain her composure. “I do not understand, Harriet. Lord Galsworthy was to leave London. I saw his letter.”
“No,” Harriet replied firmly, shaking her head. “No, he is not to leave London. That was never the case, Marianne. That letter was not from him.”
Her heart dropped to her toes and then ricocheted back up to her chest, making her gasp.
“Remember, you murmured something to yourself about there not being his usual seal on the letter,” Harriet reminded her, bringing that moment back to her with full clarity. “You said something about it at the time, but I did not think you thought much of it for you simply opened the letter and then read it.”
Marianne nodded slowly. “Yes, I did,” she murmured, feeling the color drain from her face. “Oh, goodness, Harriet. I never once considered –”
She stopped dead, looking at her sister with confusion. “But if the letter was not from him and he now knows of it, why is he not here himself to tell it to me?”
Harriet let out a long breath. “Because, my dear sister, Lord Galsworthy is taking every precaution when it comes to you and the love you share. He will prove himself to you and, in doing so, will remove Lord Henry’s hold forever. The gentleman is more dangerous than you know, Marianne.”
“Lord Henry is a villain,” Marianne replied with feeling, recalling how he had attempted to kiss her without even the slightest concern for her wellbeing or her reputation. “But I cannot understand what Galsworthy is doing. If he is not going to his estate, as he has said, then what has prevented him from corresponding with me? He could have written, if not visited, could he not?”
“No,” Harriet replied with a sad smile. “No, Marianne, he could not. He begged me not to tell you more, for fear that your behaviour would be somewhat different in front of Lord Henry, who might notice and begin to think that his plan was going awry. Might you be able to wait until tomorrow night, my dear sister? I confess I do not know what Lord Galsworthy’s exact plan is, but I am quite sure that it will all work out
for the best.”
“But we will not see Lord Henry until tomorrow evening,” she said frowning. “Surely that means you can tell me all.”
Harriet shook her head. “Father has invited him to luncheon to make up for this evening’s lack of company,” she said with a rueful smile. “It seems you are not to escape from him as you hoped.”
Marianne let out a long, slow breath, considering what she had just been told. She was not quite sure what to make of it all, feeling as though she had been dragged from one deep emotion to the next without being able to stop for breath.
“Does he think ill of me?” she whispered, dreading the answer. “I thought the letter was from him without hesitation. I did not allow myself to even imagine that there was some sort of mistake. Truly, Harriet, I thought him leaving London as he had done before. Does that speak ill of me and my trust in him?”
Harriet leaned forward and took Marianne’s hand in her own, a warm smile on her face. “You need not drag yourself over hot coals, Marianne,” she stated firmly. “You have not done anything wrong. Lord Henry is the one at fault, for he has conceived all of this for his own benefit. He used Lord Galsworthy’s past mistakes to try to force you apart. What Lord Henry has done far outweighs any poor consideration on your part, or lack of courage on Lord Galsworthy’s part. I believe that Lord Galsworthy now knows that he ought to have proposed to you some time ago, and regrets that he did not. That will not be the case tomorrow night, I believe. Trust me, Marianne, you need bear no guilt. Lord Galsworthy holds nothing against you, he only asks that you place your trust in him once more, knowing that he has not left you as you believed.”
A peace settled across Marianne’s soul, letting her draw in a long, freeing breath which seemed to chase the last of her sadness and fear away. She was not alone as she had believed. She was not rejected, for Lord Galsworthy had not turned away from her as she had thought. The love she had for him burned anew, settling into her soul. Her affection for him was returned, her love was not to go out from her towards emptiness.
“Tomorrow evening I will know everything,” she stated, seeing Harriet nodding in agreement. “I can trust Lord Galsworthy, I know I can.”
“And he is desperate to be by your side again,” Harriet murmured, a gentle smile settling on her face. “Take courage, Marianne. All will be well, I promise you.”
Chapter Eighteen
Philip climbed the staircase two at a time, the urge to hide away in the balcony rising steadily through him. He had made it into Lord Henry’s Ball without being noticed by his host, which was of a great relief to him. He had never been to Lord Henry’s house before and was quite sure that this property did not belong to the gentleman, given that he was considering purchasing a property in Grosvenor Square. Most likely, the gentleman was simply renting this magnificent property, simply to show off his wealth and status to any who came to call.
Anger burned in his veins but he forced it back with an effort. He could not allow himself to be hot-headed now, not when he had to take a good deal of care. Each moment had to be considered, each action well thought out. He could not allow Lord Henry to see him before the most opportune moment.
His breath caught in his chest as he laid eyes on Miss Weston, who was standing by her sister and father at the side of the ballroom. She was dressed in a pale blue gown that he was sure would highlight the beauty and color of her eyes, her fair hair tumbling from an intricate arrangement on the top of her head, down her back, in long, gentle curls. She was utterly breath-taking and the desire to go to her, to be by her side, almost overwhelmed him entirely.
Her eyes were roving about the room, looking from one guest to another, searching for someone. He knew full well that she was searching for him, happiness settling into his soul. Miss Harriet had done her duty, it seemed, else he would expect to see her standing desolately, looking as though her whole world had crumbled to the ground.
“My dear Marianne,” Philip whispered to himself, his hands tightening on the rail as he saw Lord Henry bow in front of her. “You must only endure a little while longer. Then I will not be separated from you again.”
Philip watched with growing anger as Lord Henry bowed again in front of Marianne before offering her his hand. It was a waltz and, for a moment, Philip thought Marianne was about to refuse, seeing the way that she glanced from one side to the other. She knew full well that the other guests in the ballroom were watching her and that even her father, Lord Bridgestone, would not be pleased if she refused Lord Henry. To turn away from Lord Henry now, in front of his guests, would be to insult him greatly. The ballroom would be alive with whispers almost at once, should she do so. Philip could not imagine all that she must be feeling, hating that she had to stand up with the very man who had brought her so much trouble, but stand up with him she did.
He could not take his eyes from her, seeing the way that she danced with Lord Henry without ever really looking at him. It was more than apparent to him that she longed to be free of Henry’s embrace, her eyes still searching for him.
And then, she saw him.
Philip’s heart began to race as her eyes fixed on his, broken by the turns and spins of the dance. He wanted to call out to her, wanted to beg her to come to him, but knew he could not. Instead, he simply smiled gently and held her gaze, seeing the way the corners of her mouth turned up just a little.
It was time to begin.
Stepping away from the balcony, Philip made his way down the staircase and proceeded into the ballroom, staying close to the wall. He did not want to make his presence obvious as yet, but knew that it would soon be time to confront Lord Henry in front of all his guests. He did not care about the rumours it would bring, knowing that he had to reveal Lord Henry’s treachery to the ton in order to keep Marianne – as well as other eligible young ladies – safe from the man. His shoulder ached terribly but Philip ignored it altogether, telling himself that he could not spare even a moment’s thought for his own pain.
“Lord Galsworthy!”
Putting a small smile on his face, Philip bowed towards Harriet and then greeted Lord Bridgestone who was staring at him with utter astonishment.
“Lord Galsworthy,” Lord Bridgestone stuttered, clearly quite at a loss. “I thought you were – I mean, Lord Henry stated that you would be leaving London. I thought you had already returned to your estate.”
“I believe he also told you that I was quite unwell,” Philip replied, seeing the man look away uncomfortably. “I am not at all ill, Lord Bridgestone. It is all nothing more than a fabrication made by Lord Henry in the hope that he might separate me from your daughter.”
Lord Bridgestone looked as though he did not know what to believe. “I do not quite understand, Lord Galsworthy,” he replied slowly. “Lord Henry is a good man and I can hardly believe that –”
“Lord Henry shot him!” Harriet exclaimed, her hand on her father’s arm. “He did so to prevent Lord Galsworthy from coming to you with the truth, Father!”
Philip saw the astonishment creep into Lord Bridgestone’s expression, followed by a slight frown that betrayed the gentleman’s immediate lack of belief. “I hardly think that–”
“I can show you the wound if that would persuade you,” Philip interjected at once, rather more sternly than he had intended. “I am quite aware, Lord Bridgestone, that Lord Henry has done everything he can to ingratiate himself into your family in order to persuade you that he, rather than I, would be a much better gentleman for your daughter, whereas the opposite is quite true. Lord Henry is a scoundrel and nothing more. He has decided he wants to wed Miss Weston and so, therefore, has done all he can to gain her hand and your trust.” Seeing that Lord Bridgestone’s frown was now deepening, Philip took a breath before he continued, relieved that the gentleman appeared to be feeling a hint of anger; such was the glint in his eye. “I stand before you as hail and as hearty as any man, Lord Bridgestone. I confess that I have been foolish in turning away from your daughter whe
n I ought to have been courting her with the urgency that I now feel. I ought to have proposed long ago and made our engagement known. Having spent time with Miss Weston, I confess that I have grown more than fond of her, Lord Bridgestone. I love her. I love her more with each day that passes which is why I simply could not allow Lord Henry to continue. Your daughter is right to tell you that the gentleman shot me for that was precisely what he did only two days ago, immediately after he came from your home. He thought to convince me to leave Miss Weston to him, stating precisely what he had told you about my supposed illness and my return to the estate. When I told him that I would not stand for it, he attempted to give me a grievous injury that, had I not turned at the last moment, would have put me near death.”
Lord Bridgestone shook his head and rubbed one hand over his forehead. “I do not want to believe it,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head. “And yet, it appears that I must. Lord Henry is not, then, the man I thought him.”
“No, Father,” Miss Harriet Weston said gently, putting one hand on her father’s arm. “He is not. Lord Galsworthy loves Marianne, I know he does. And Marianne loves him, Father. You cannot separate them now. Once Marianne knows all, then I know she will choose Lord Galsworthy.”
“A thousand times over, I do.”
Philip turned sharply, seeing Miss Marianne Weston standing just behind him with Lord Henry now making his way towards her, elbowing his way through the crowd. Evidently, she had been listening to what Philip had said to Lord Bridgestone, her face pale but her eyes sparkling with joy.
“My dear Marianne,” Philip replied, turning towards her. “I would never have turned my back on you again, not even for a moment. You know how deeply I regretted my foolish behaviour when news of our betrothal first came to light. I am only sorry that I could not come to you before now but, as you might have heard, I was injured and had to regain some of my strength.”