Scandal's Deception

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Scandal's Deception Page 21

by Pamela Gibson


  Leisterbridge had thought Jane to be Jocelyn, and her twin had much to answer for. It was obvious her sister had spent more time alone with the rake than proper, although she guessed Leisterbridge had not actually had his way with her. Clandestine kisses and fondling in someone’s garden, where any number of people might intrude, was quite different than being whisked away to a remote estate.

  For now, she would try to put it all out of her mind and tumble back into her comfortable bed.

  Slipping into a serviceable nightgown loaned to her by her hostess, she sat in front of the open window, hoping she wouldn’t take a chill. The air smelled like rain, and the gathering darkness held a special appeal tonight, hiding small creatures from prey and cloaking the pain of a larger creature who leaned over the casement taking deep breaths, as if fresh air would cleanse her soul. Would she ever purge her nostrils of the scent that clung to her captor? She hoped so. If she ever smelled bergamot again, she might run screaming into the street.

  A breeze carried the sound of an owl hooting in the distance and the rustling of leaves in the tree nearest the window. The chill drove her back, and she closed the window and fled to the chair by the fireplace.

  She slept fitfully, awakening several times as frightening aspects of her experience kept surfacing. What she really wanted was a tot of brandy to help her relax and to chase all her bad thoughts away.

  She put on the robe provided and padded barefoot out into the hall. Making her way to a private sitting room she’d viewed on her way to her chamber, she thought she remembered seeing a brandy decanter and several glasses on a table near the door. She slipped into the room. Remnants of a fire flickered in the grate. Finding the sideboard, she poured a small amount into her glass and prepared to go back to her room, then stopped. A sigh came from one of the two deep chairs in front of the fire.

  “I thought you’d be asleep by now.” Ralston’s voice broke the silence of the room.

  “For some reason I’m fully awake, which is why I am here seeking brandy. On the rare occasions Papa offered it to me, I found it helped me sleep.”

  She sat in the chair next to his. Even though in her night attire, the robe Lady Elizabeth’s maid had set out covered her from neck to toe in soft wool. Oddly, she had no modesty around Lord Ralston. The man was like a familiar, sturdy boot, worn so often discomfort was never an issue. Not a very flattering analogy, she supposed. Better than the other term that came to mind, the one she tucked away for use in soft darkness when her body thrummed with the new, unrequited need he’d awakened.

  He gazed straight ahead, a pensive expression on his face. Jane studied his features, as if seeing them for the first time. His nose was long and elegant in a handsome face with high cheekbones and long-lashed eyes. Creases marred his forehead as he stared into the firelight as if studying the patterns made by the flames.

  Jane turned away and clutched the arms of her chair, stifling a longing to reach across to smooth those creases away with gentle fingers.

  “I’m glad you’re here. I need to speak to you.” His serious tone made her wonder if she was about to be lectured once again about putting herself in a dangerous situation by agreeing to her sister’s scheme. Well. She was glad she had. Her sister’s dream had been an illusion. The man was unworthy, and her sister would have been ruined. As it was, there would be those who would think it had been Jocelyn who had been abducted. Jane had thoroughly fooled those who attended the ball.

  “As I said, I’ll sit here as long as you wish, my lord. Sleep eludes me. Too many nerves have not yet calmed, even with a bath, rest, food, and the knowledge that I am now safe.”

  He seemed to study her, a quizzical lift to his brow. “Safe? I think not. You are in grave danger, not of the physical variety, but in some ways worse. You are ruined. Jocelyn and your mother might recover once she confesses to her mad scheme, and it is generally accepted there are two of you who are identical in looks. But you will be shunned, gossiped about, and sneered at whenever you are encountered. You are, in the eyes of the ton, used goods.”

  Heat rose in her cheeks as she considered his words. “How can you say that? I am as innocent as I was when I walked down the staircase and into Jocelyn’s birthday ball. It was easy to put off Lord Aubrey’s worst intentions when I realized he was a man in love with himself. Once he began talking, I kept the conversation alive until I could lock myself away.”

  He leaned forward, both hands on his knees. “You and I know that. Leisterbridge will embellish the story. As you say, his idea of himself is far greater than what is real, and his lies will distort any fact in his favor. Plus, he is a duke’s heir, and his father protects him with a vengeance. He can soil a woman’s reputation and go unpunished because society always blames the woman. Sons of powerful aristocrats, I am sorry to say, can probably get away with murder.”

  She did not want to hear this conversation. In some ways, being banned from the ton might not be so bad. Balls and gowns and changing clothes several times of day had not appealed to her. Perhaps she could move to the sea cottage and remain there with Mary as a companion until she came into her funds.

  “I suppose I should go to my property near the coast and remain there out of sight.”

  “No. Your mother will want you with her and Jocelyn, to prove to the world that there are two of you who look identical, even though she will face shame for sending you off with your father as a babe.”

  “I think not. She’ll concoct some story that makes her look like a martyr.” She gulped the remains of her brandy and gripped the glass until her knuckles turned white. “I refuse. I shall run away to America. I shall make my way to Philadelphia and find Maddie. I will not go back to that woman’s household. You can try to force me, but I vow I will not bow to your wishes in this matter.”

  She stood abruptly, her breaths coming fast. Ralston also stood and put his hands on her shoulders. “There is another solution—one you might not want to hear.”

  “Anything. Tell me. I am vexed beyond belief. I can believe the woman feels nothing for me, because I feel nothing for her. We are strangers. I admit to a perplexing bond with my sister, even though she must be incredibly thick to think Aubrey wanted her for more than sport.”

  “You and your sister may look alike, but you are very different. Jocelyn is dependent on her mother and is a creature of the society in which she was raised. You rely on yourself and are suspicious of those who seek your favor.” He paused and seemed to be searching her face. “I hope I am one of the people who has earned your trust.”

  She frowned and pondered his words. “I do have faith in you, which is why I am having a difficult time understanding your pronouncements. To me you are the knight in shining armor who rescued me from the dragon. You are a combination of Cinderella’s Prince Charming, and-and President Madison. I admire you greatly, my lord.”

  “Then hear me out.”

  He drew her closer, and she placed her arms around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder. Wrapped in his warmth, she thought about the words she’d left out.

  You make me feel like a woman, not a girl. I’m filled with an ache in my womanly parts whenever you are near, longing for what you are doing right now. While I know it is improper, I think I’ve fallen in love with you.

  “The solution I offer cannot make everything right, but can help you cross that wide, gaping chasm that threatens to swallow you. It would provide protection and instant propriety, and no one would dare give you the cut direct.”

  “And what is that, milord?” She snuggled into his shoulder, smelling lemon soap. He, too, must have bathed after her rescue.

  “You can marry me.”

  Chapter 34

  Jane jumped back with an ever-widening smile on her face that soon morphed into something else.

  He hadn’t expected her to be effusive in her response, but
laughter?

  She laughed so hard she fell back onto a chair and hid her face in her hands. ’Twas the middle of the night. He expected to hear footsteps running toward the sitting room, followed by the night footman bursting through the door to see what the commotion was about.

  Instead, he took a clean handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Jane who used it to further muffle the snorts now coming from her mouth.

  “I do not know why this amuses you.”

  She seemed to be making an effort to control herself, blew her nose, and stuffed the handkerchief in the pocket of her robe. “I distinctly remember you telling me you never wanted to marry, that when you desired female companionship there were several accommodating widows of your acquaintance who willingly offered their services, and . . . let’s see . . . oh yes, your nephew was already being trained to be your heir. Did I leave anything out?”

  “No. That was quite complete.”

  “Why are you offering marriage?”

  “I’m your guardian. I am supposed to protect you. I failed.”

  Her nose twitched like she was about to burst forth in giggles once again. “I see.”

  He took her hands in his. “You don’t see. You are ruined. You cannot go forth into society. Every rakehell in the ton will snicker and abuse you with improper remarks if they see you. No decent woman will want you in their home.”

  “It cannot be that bad, can it?”

  “Yes, it can. Marriage will lend the protection of my name and title. Elizabeth will stand by you, as will Lady Cardmore and a few other intelligent women of my acquaintance. The gossip will eventually die down, and you can have a normal life.”

  She bit her lower lip and studied his face. “Would it not be thought odd that a guardian married his ward?”

  He moved away to stir the fire. “You are of age. I am eligible and unmarried. There is no great age difference between us. I think it would be quite acceptable.”

  “Acceptable.” The word uttered behind him was soft and flat. “What about Jocelyn? Who will marry her?”

  “Jocelyn is the one who got you into this predicament—she and your mother. It will take a while, but Lady Siltsbury will make it known that Jocelyn was safely at home with her welts when this occurred and the person kidnapped was her twin. The servants will be told the true circumstances and will spread the news among other servants. That’s a vital source of information, you know. Servant to servant, household to household. It won’t help you, and it might not help Jocelyn, as she will be tainted by her association with you.”

  He raised the coal bucket and added to the fire. Even after hours awake, he still couldn’t sleep. After seeing to the fire, he turned back and sat in the chair he’d occupied earlier.

  Jane also sat with brows furrowed, staring straight ahead, as if deep in thought. The handkerchief was back in her hand, and she twisted it in a continuous pattern, straightening one corner, then the next, as if trying to pull out the wrinkles.

  Perhaps he’d gotten through to her, although he was still astonished a proposal had popped out of his mouth. He hadn’t planned to propose, but as he’d spoken, he’d realized marriage was the only solution. The girl couldn’t be sent back to America, and he suspected she’d run off and hide somewhere if he forced her to go back to her mother’s household.

  “What do you say?”

  She smiled wistfully as she continued to work the handkerchief. “If I marry, all of my funds, my property, my very person becomes my husband’s. Correct?”

  “Yes, but . . .” He needed to put this delicately. “I would make sure you always had adequate funds. You’d want for nothing.”

  “Pin money.” That flat tone again.

  “Yes.”

  “What about the sea cottage?”

  “I could make arrangements for that to be in your name only.”

  She nodded, her bout of laughter long gone. She seemed to be seriously considering his offer. Good, because he wouldn’t force her to do anything that was abhorrent. “There’s one other thing.”

  “Yes?” She looked directly into his eyes, and his stomach lurched as if he’d swallowed a nest of tiny, winged creatures.

  “It could be a marriage of convenience. You wouldn’t have to . . . to . . . share my bed.”

  “How would you get an heir?”

  “As you said, my nephew is my heir if I remain childless.”

  “This offer is a matter of duty then.”

  “I consider it a duty and also an honor. I think we get along well enough, and in time, when affection grows, perhaps it could be a real marriage. I certainly would leave that up to you.”

  She rose and brought the brandy decanter from its place on a side table. After pouring another tot into her glass, she refreshed his. Seating herself, she drank down the entire bit and choked, using the handkerchief to wipe her eyes.

  “Thank you for your offer. I would like to give it careful consideration. I am still tired, shaken, and as hard as I try, I cannot think clearly.”

  “I understand.”

  “I’ll bid you good night, my lord.”

  He stretched his lips into a smile he didn’t feel, hoping to elicit a similar response. Instead, she nodded curtly and left the room.

  Well that didn’t go very well.

  She’d been kept away from society, from coy glances and barbed tongues. Her only foray was the ball, a glittering affair worthy of a duchess-to-be, or so her mama had hoped. None of it had been for Jane. It had been for the pampered girl at home in her bed, pouting because God smote her with a plague on the best night of her life.

  Hah! If she only realized what a narrow escape she’d had.

  If Jocelyn had been kidnapped, would he have offered marriage to protect her reputation?

  The question unsettled him because he was well aware of the answer.

  What was it about this girl that made him want to stand in front of her with arms extended, shielding her from hurt? Was it her spunk, her total disregard for the rules of the ton? Or maybe it was her fascination with unusual words that made her head tilt and her eyes close as she pondered their meaning.

  For someone who had an unusual upbringing, she seemed well-tutored and intelligent, and he had to admit he enjoyed discussing the plots of classical literature, learning about the causes important to the colonists, and watching her eyes light with glee when discussing some aspect of the home she’d been forced to leave.

  He envied Maddie, whoever she was, because of all she’d shared with Jane. A woman shrouded in mystery, born in Martinique, living now in Philadelphia. At least he’d heard of that town and knew a bit about the Quakers who had settled there.

  Did he really want to end his bachelorhood to preserve her reputation? She obviously did not care for him.

  He’d been surprised when the words had flown out of his mouth. Duty was so ingrained in him, he’d blurted out his proposal, knowing at once it was a practical solution to her current dilemma. Leisterbridge would crow about how easily the chit fell into his scheme, then laugh about how he’d thought it was Jocelyn. He would embellish his account of the happenings, once he figured out Jane hadn’t been lying about her identity, that there was another daughter—this one from America.

  What threw him completely off guard was her response. He’d expected grateful tears at the worst, and a solemn resignation to her fate with perhaps a few smiles and a quick nod of her head to acknowledge the sacrifice he was making.

  Sacrifice? Listen to yourself, Ralston.

  Jane had a good head on her shoulders and a fine mind. She also had a gorgeous body and a sultry way of half closing her eyes when looking at him that made him think of her lying on a silk sheet in a gossamer nightgown. His cock hardened at the mere thought.

  But no, she had laughed. Uproarious
ly. And thrown his own words back at him. There was nothing amusing about this situation. She needed a husband. If she didn’t want him, perhaps he could find her someone more to her liking.

  With that thought, he downed his brandy and stomped from the room. He’d give her time to come to her decision. Deep in his heart a flicker of emotion stirred. Surely she would see this was the best solution. She was an intelligent woman. She would come to her senses and agree.

  He must plan. Special license. Send for a larger coach from his country estate. See his solicitor. And pay a call on Lady Siltsbury tomorrow or the next day, apprising her of his plan. His trip to his estate would have to wait. He’d send a messenger to say he’d be delayed.

  Feeling better, he strode into his chamber only to find his temporary valet asleep in a chair.

  “Crixton.” He shook the man.

  “Yes, milord?”

  “Wake me at daybreak and pack my valise.”

  As he prepared for bed, he eyed the spot where a wife might sleep, and he smiled again.

  “She’ll do it.”

  “What did you say?”

  “Nothing, Crixton. I am merely amusing myself.”

  He loved it when he made good decisions, and some of his better ones had come on the spur of the moment.

  She’ll do it, he reminded himself again. Her answer would be a firm yes.

  Chapter 35

  “The answer is no.”

  Jane stood with her arms folded and her hair neatly tied back in a prim bun at the base of her neck. She wore a high-necked woolen dress loaned to her by Lady Elizabeth. The sleeves and hem were too short and the bodice too large. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, as Maddie always said.

  She sat at the breakfast table with her hostess, wondering where her guardian had hied off to. She wanted to give him her answer. She needed him here. A note had arrived that Lady Siltsbury was on her way, and Jane needed Ralston to act as a buffer. Lady Elizabeth was far too immersed in the circumstances to be fair. She’d already taken a side.

 

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