Betrayal and Lies: Convenient Arrangements (Book 4)

by Pearson, Rose

  Christina’s eyes flared with alarm, and she put one hand out towards Lady Newfield, but her great-aunt merely caught her hand and pressed it tightly.

  “She may not tell you, Lord Harlow, but I can,” Lady Newfield continued as Christina’s panic grew. “But only if you can assure us of your discretion. Of your promise not to engage yourself in this matter to the point that those already involved are aware of it.”

  There was an immediate objection on Christina’s lips, but it died away the moment Lord Harlow surreptitiously reached across and pressed her other hand, reassurance in his eyes as he looked at her.

  “You can be fully assured of it,” he said, letting go of her hand quickly, although the brief touch meant a great deal to her. “You know very well that I have been worried about you, Lady Christina. I do want to know what has occurred, and why you have found yourself engaged to a man such as Mr. Markham!” His expression was one of complete confusion, and, although he kept his voice low, she could see just how agitated he was.

  “Very well,” she said, looking to Lady Newfield. “Pray, Lady Newfield, tell all to Lord Harlow, even though I am quite certain that it is all for naught.” Her head dropped as Lady Newfield began to speak, unable to even look at Lord Harlow as he listened to the explanation. She did not know what he would think of her, fearing that he might consider her very foolish indeed for storming into her father’s study in the way she had done. Mayhap, he might turn around and tell her that this situation was of her own making and that, had she not been so determined, so eager, then she might now find herself still courted by him. Had she not done so, she might have been able now to work with him to help her father. Her cheeks flared hot, her head dropping at little lower as her embarrassment grew. Any moment now, he would give her his sincere apologies that such a thing had happened but would, thereafter, step away.

  “And that is the predicament Lady Christina now finds herself in,” Lady Newfield finished. “A very difficult one indeed.”

  For a few moments, there was not a single response to Lady Newfield’s explanation. Hot tears crept into Christina’s eyes as she waited for him to reply, fearing now that he would turn away from her, leave her entirely alone and without hope.

  “My goodness.”

  Lord Harlow’s voice was grave.

  “What a despicable creature Lord Fulham is.”

  Christina’s head lifted at once, her eyes rounding as she saw the anger flooding into Lord Harlow’s face. “You do not think it my fault?” she asked, her voice tremulous, and Lord Harlow startled visibly as though what she had said had shocked him.

  “How could I blame you?” he asked, his fingers once more finding hers, his gesture hidden by the shadows. “You have done nothing worthy of blame. Instead, you sought to protect your father in the only way you could. Indeed, Lady Christina, I admire your determination and your devotion to your father.” He shook his head, releasing her fingers with obvious reluctance. “I am horrified to hear what Baron Fulham has done. I did not know anything about this situation, even though I was present that night. I was aware that there were some debts to be paid, but I certainly did not see your father writing any such vowel to Lord Fulham. If I had, I would have made certain to stop him.”

  Christina smiled tightly. “I believe that my father was a little in his cups,” she said softly. “Not that I hold him responsible. No one could have expected Lord Fulham to have demanded such a thing from him.”

  “And if you do not continue with your betrothal, if you do not marry Mr. Markham, then your father will be forced into a duel, and you believe he will...” The sentence did not finish, and Christina nodded fervently, a single tear slipping from her eye.

  “Then we must find a way to bring this entire situation to an end,” Lord Harlow said with a firmness that astonished Christina. “Has a date been set?”

  She shook her head. “Not as yet,” she answered slowly. “I am not certain when such a thing might take place, for Mr. Markham seems to be, at present, reveling in what he has achieved.

  Lord Harlow considered this carefully, his eyes dimmed with anger. “Then what can we do?”

  Christina did not immediately answer, for such was the fervor in his voice and the determination in his eyes that she was quite overcome, having not expected anything of the sort from him. It took her a few moments to regain the power of speech, such was the joyful astonishment that captured every part of her.

  “You must know, surely, that I wish to help you,” Lord Harlow continued, looking into Christina’s face and giving her a small, gentle smile. “I cannot have you marry this man, Lady Christina. He will only make the rest of your days miserable! He will not treat you with the respect and the consideration that you deserve. Even now, I observed him expecting you to be nothing more than a servant to his whims, doing as he asks without hesitation. Is that not so?”

  Christina nodded, her throat aching. “It is.”

  “Then, of course, I shall assist you in this,” he said softly. “I am sure that there will be a way for us to remove this particular difficulty from you.” Drawing in a breath, he lifted his chin a notch. “I will not stand by and watch as you marry someone like that, not when there is more within my own heart for you than will ever be in his.”

  “Then how can I refuse you?” she whispered, her throat aching with the swell of relief that pressed down hard within her chest. “I do not want to marry Mr. Markham, Lord Harlow. The only gentleman I have ever considered in that regard is...” She closed her eyes, feeling the moment rising up around them, looking into his eyes and feeling the desire to say all that she wished and yet found so difficult to say.

  “Then let us hope that this is what shall be,” Lord Harlow said, clearly knowing what it was that she was trying to say and ensuring that she did not have to bring herself to say it when she was already deeply emotional. “For I will not rest until we have found a way to remove you from this, Lady Christina, until Lord Fulham is made fully aware that he cannot treat your father nor you in such a manner.” His eyes glinted with steel, his jaw working hard for a moment. “I give you my promise, Lady Christina. You need not be in fear any longer.”

  Chapter Seven

  The urge to go directly to Mr. Markham and to plant him a facer before demanding that he release Lady Christina from their betrothal had been very strong indeed—but Richard had resisted the urge with an effort. In fact, he had managed to be civil, making certain that he had found a way to be introduced to the fellow so that he might make a more thorough assessment of him.

  He had not been mistaken in his first consideration of the fellow. Mr. Markham was smug, arrogant, and entirely ignorant of what it was to be a gentleman. Richard had been forced to endure watching Lady Christina standing next to Mr. Markham, a silent onlooker to her betrothed’s conversations. Never once did Mr. Markham ask for her thoughts; never once did he attempt to draw her into their discussion. It was as though she meant nothing to him, as though he thought very little of her, whereas Richard knew that Lady Christina was a highly intelligent young lady who had much to contribute, should she be asked. To see her so ignored and belittled had made his fury burn all the hotter, but he had kept it buried deep within himself, not allowing Mr. Markham to see it. He had been nothing other than amiable so that Mr. Markham would not consider him to be any sort of threat.

  However, this morning, Richard was determined to find a way to help Lady Christina out of her dilemma. Whilst Lady Christina did not hold her father responsible for what had occurred, Richard had to admit that there was a part of him that thought a little poorly of Lord Enfield. Had the man chosen not to drink so much liquor, then he might have kept his senses about him —although, Richard had to admit, there was never any single moment when he would have thought a gentleman to be as demanding and as cruel in his requests as Lord Fulham.

  “Thank you for allowing me to call upon you so early,” he said, sitting down in the drawing-room as Lord Prestwick sat down heavily i
n a chair, dark circles beneath his eyes. “I know it is most untoward, and yet I can assure you that it is of the greatest importance.”

  “It had better be,” Lord Prestwick grumbled, shaking his head before pinching his nose and closing his eyes. “My tiredness is not at all satisfied as yet and last evening was a—”

  “That is what I want to speak to you about,” Richard interrupted. “Last evening, I met with Lady Christina.”

  Lord Prestwick’s eyes flared as his attention piqued. “Lady Christina? I did see her speaking with you, of course. That must have been painful for you.”

  Richard waved one hand. “It was, but not for the reasons you might think,” he said, before quickly expressing what Lady Newfield had told him. He saw Lord Prestwick’s eyes flare, his mouth opening in astonishment, and hurriedly stated, quite firmly, that there was to be no mention of what he had just been told. “You must understand, should Lord Fulham or Mr. Markham become aware that this arrangement is known by either of us, then there may well be further consequences for Lord Enfield and his daughter.”

  Blinking rapidly, Lord Prestwick shook his head. “Indeed.”

  “Lord Fulham might demand a duel, for example,” Richard finished. “Therefore, I am determined that this remain quiet but that, at the same time, we work together to try to help Lady Christina out of this situation.”

  “You wish her to marry you instead,” Lord Prestwick noted without giving Richard a chance to argue. “I cannot blame you for that desire. It sounds like a terrible situation, and I have a deep sorrow for the lady in question—although what it is that you wish from me, I cannot yet understand.” He looked at Richard questioningly. “And why, with such urgency, did you come to see me?”

  “Because I am at a loss!” Richard exclaimed, throwing up his hands. “I have sworn to Lady Christina that I will not give up, that I will find a way to achieve success in this, and yet I cannot think of a single thing to do!” Raking his hands through his hair, he threw himself up from his chair. “I have been awake half the night trying to think of what to do, but as yet, I have had not a single helpful thought.”

  “And so you have come to me, the wisest of your friends,” Lord Prestwick said, his grin taking the edge from Richard’s angst. “Is that not so?”

  Richard closed his eyes, his hands dropping to his side. “I must think of something to do by which I can help her,” he said heavily. “I cannot imagine her—cannot allow her to become his wife!”

  Lord Prestwick’s smile faded, and his brows knitted together. “It is a very difficult situation,” he agreed quietly. “Lord Fulham is a blaggard and no mistake. If Lord Enfield has written this particular vowel, however, then what can be done? A debt must be paid.”

  “But surely you agree that such a request is not at all acceptable?” Richard said, throwing his hands up. “What sort of fellow demands the residence of a gentleman in exchange for a few coin? What sort of man asks for the daughter’s hand in marriage, else it will be a duel and nothing less?” Closing his eyes, he shook his head. “I want so desperately to comfort her, and she is looking to me for hope, Prestwick. What can I do but find an answer for her?”

  The frown remained on Lord Prestwick’s face for some moments, although he did not say anything. Instead, he looked back at Richard steadily, his thoughts clearly rushing through his head as he tried to find something to suggest, something that would force Mr. Markham and his father to step away from what they had demanded.

  “Well, what I can think of at the first is that you must understand Mr. Markham,” Lord Prestwick said, slowly. “You must understand his weaknesses, just as you must understand Lord Fulham’s weaknesses also.”

  “I do not want to go anywhere near those gentlemen!” Richard protested, but his friend waved a hand.

  “How else are you going to find a way into this situation if you do not know what sort of gentlemen they are?” he asked, lifting one eyebrow. “Yes, we know they are callous, cruel, and entirely self-centered, but what if there is something that they seek that they might inadvertently give away? Something that they desire more than Lady Christina?”

  Richard closed his eyes, wanting to protest but realizing he could not.

  “Lady Christina must find as much courage as possible,” Lord Prestwick continued firmly. “She must make herself as disagreeable and as difficult as she can, in the faint hope that Mr. Markham might be a little dissuaded from the match.”

  “I do not think that such behavior will achieve anything,” he said with a heavy sigh. “Lord Fulham is desperate for his son to reach greater heights than he himself has managed. That is why he first wanted the Enfield estate—so that he might give the illusion that he was wealthy enough to rent such a magnificent property as well as soon owning the smaller estate of his father’s.” One shoulder lifted in a small, hopeless shrug. “Given Mr. Markham is now to wed the daughter of an earl and receive what is, I am sure, a magnificent dowry, he will have achieved a great deal more than Lord Fulham already, and I am sure will not want to give her up in any way, regardless of just how difficult she might appear.”

  Seemingly now a little irritated at Richard’s determination to refuse every single suggestion, Lord Prestwick shook his head and pointed one finger out towards him.

  “Regardless, she must try,” he said firmly. “She will have to do as you ask in the hope that it may, perhaps, do something.” He looked keenly at Richard. “Do you think you will be able to convince her?”

  Richard hesitated. “I will have to take great care in how and when I see her,” he said slowly. “Lord Fulham, I am sure, will be taking pains to ensure that she is doing as he has demanded, and, if I were to show particular interest in her, that would not bode well for either of us.”

  “Regardless, you must find a way,” Lord Prestwick said with a shrug. “We also know that Lord Fulham is keen to play cards and to gamble.” He looked at Richard pointedly. “Would it be too easy to suggest that we play him at cards and, thereafter, use what he has gained as a bargaining piece?”

  Shaking his head, Richard pressed his lips hard together, his frown burrowing into his brow. “No, we cannot,” he answered heavily. “Lord Fulham may win the game, and then what should we do?” He saw Lord Prestwick’s shoulders slump. “And besides which, he might very well cheat if he is determined to win the game and not lose a single piece of what he has gained.”

  “Then we must continue on as planned,” Lord Prestwick said with a determined gleam in his eye. “You shall continue your acquaintance with Mr. Markham; I shall continue my acquaintance with Baron Fulham—as much as I should not wish to.” Grimacing, he sighed heavily. “But you must first find a way to go to Lady Christina. I know that she will wish to see you.” Tilting his head, his eyes flared. “Could you not elope with her?”

  Again, Richard shook his head. “If I do so, then her father might very well be called into a duel with Lord Fulham for breaking the terms of the agreement, even though it is not he who has done so,” he said with a heavy sigh. “Otherwise, I would have taken her almost immediately to Scotland and might very well be wed by now.” A half-smile caught his lips. “It is a good thought, however.”

  Lord Prestwick smiled ruefully. “I thank you for that.” Briskly, he rose to his feet. “Now, you are to go to Lady Christina’s, yes?”

  “I cannot go at once, no,” Richard answered slowly. “I shall write to her and suggest that, mayhap, we accidentally meet at the very same bookshop we met at a short time ago. That way, if anyone is watching her, they will think nothing of her entering a bookshop with Lady Newfield. It will be just as normal.”

  “A wise thought,” Lord Prestwick agreed, making his way across the room and ringing the bell. “And before then, perhaps something to eat?” His grin reappeared. “You may have had something to refresh yourself this morning, but I certainly have not, given I was so rudely awakened by your presence.”

  “Perhaps I could have a little something,” Richard a
greed, feeling a trifle more relieved now that he had spoken to Lord Prestwick and unburdened himself a little. “Might I also write to Lady Christina?”

  Lord Prestwick nodded. “But of course,” he said. “And I shall have my man take it there directly the moment you are finished. Would that please you?”

  “Thank you,” Richard replied honestly. “You are a true friend, Prestwick, and I truly appreciate your assistance.”

  * * *

  Stepping into the bookshop brought with it a swell of memories. This had been the bookshop where he had first seen Lady Christina in a new way, when he had felt a sting of jealousy that she had not looked at him but at Lord Prestwick. A small smile played about his mouth as he walked a little further inside. This place, if anything, gave him a little more hope.

  He was the first one to arrive, although there were a few other visitors within the shop also. Lord Prestwick had not joined him, thinking it best to remain away from Richard when he met with Lady Christina. Thus, Richard was entirely alone, and his anticipation in seeing Lady Christina was growing steadily. Even though he did not have any plan as yet, even though he had not any hope to offer her, the eagerness to see her was all the more apparent.

  Wandering through the bookshop, Richard allowed himself to recall all that he had felt the day he had first seen Lady Christina in an entirely different light. It had been grown to such overwhelming heights that he had soon found himself entirely encompassed, feeling now the deep affection that had been within himself for so long but never before truly revealed.

  She had been a little melancholy that day, he remembered, recalling the urge to make her smile. When she had done so, he had felt his heart lift and had felt himself glad that she no longer had a sorrowful expression about her. How he hoped that he might be able to do the very same now! At the very least, he could reassure her that he and Lord Prestwick were working together to come up with an idea that would release her from her bond.