A Matter of Choice

by Laura Landon

  “Allison,” he cried out weakly as the world around him went black.

  +++

  Allison was never so relieved to hear anything in her life as she was the final round of applause at the conclusion of Verdi’s Rigoletto. Something was wrong. She could feel it in her bones. Knew it to the very core of her. He’d promised to be here by the end of the first act. He still hadn’t arrived.

  “Montfort will be sorry he missed tonight’s performance,” Phoebe said as they walked together down the long corridor to the winding staircase. “I thought you said he was coming.”

  “He was.” Allison led the group that included her three sisters and their husbands, and the Lords and Ladies Etonbury and Questry, and the Duke and Duchess of Bingham to the stairs. “Something must have happened. He is probably waiting for us at home.”

  She walked down the steps, keeping her gloved hand on the railing to support herself. She wished she had asked what was in the message he’d received from Chardwell. What if something had happened to him?

  She focused her gaze on the crush of people in the foyer at the bottom of the stairs. Perhaps he’d been so late he decided to wait for them down here. Instead, her gaze rested on the Marquess of Chardwell. A wave of relief surged through her. And panic. He’d sent the message to Joshua. Why was he here without him?

  “Good evening, Lady Montfort. Don’t tell me your husband has deserted you.”

  “Didn’t he come with you?” A wave of unease washed over her. He’d said the note had come from Chardwell.

  The confused look on Chardwell’s face told her he had no idea to what she was referring.

  “I must have misunderstood. I thought he was with you.”

  She fixed an exuberant smile on her face and struggled to give the impression that nothing was wrong. “Never mind.” She broadened her smile until it hurt. “Did you enjoy the opera?”

  Chardwell hadn’t sent Joshua the message. Why had he lied to her?

  The look on Chardwell’s face darkened. “I did.” He cast his gaze to where her guests stood behind her. “Oh, I forgot,” he said with a look of surprise on his face. “Montfort mentioned that you were entertaining. He invited me to join you. I’m not too late, am I?”

  Relief flooded her. “No, of course not.”

  Chardwell was a pathetic liar but she was glad he’d invited himself. He was Joshua’s best friend. She was suddenly desperate to have him with her.

  If there was trouble, she knew her husband would want him there. If there wasn’t trouble... Well, she’d cross that bridge when she reached it.

  “I’d be delighted to have you join us.”

  “Wonderful.”

  They walked to the entrance and waited as the long line of carriages came forward.

  If anyone noticed her unease, they concealed it well. Everyone was in the highest of spirits, their mood enlivened by the performance. She vowed to make Joshua take her again so she could enjoy the performance. His absence had certainly caused her mind to be occupied elsewhere.

  She looked down the street and said a small thank you because her carriage was the first to arrive. Another because Chardwell’s carriage was next in line. If something were amiss, he would be there to help her.

  The ride home seemed interminable, but finally they pulled in front of Montfort House. The niggling fear she’d felt earlier erupted into full force worry. And yet…

  Nothing seemed amiss. Lights shone from every window, and Converse opened the front door the minute she alighted from her carriage.

  Chardwell was at her side and held out his arm for her. “Is everything all right?” he asked as they walked up the steps.

  “I hope so. I just can’t imagine what detained Joshua. He promised he would meet us at the opera.”

  Together they walked through the open door, the rest of the group following close behind her.

  “Montfort is going to receive the first harsh scolding of his marriage,” one of the men bantered. The rest of the group laughed at his teasing, but just within earshot she heard Lady Etonbury comment that it would be hard for any woman to stay angry with any husband who possessed such inordinate charm.

  Allison ignored their teasing remarks and walked past Converse. Her stride faltered when she saw the serious expression on their butler’s face.

  “Is Lord Montfort here?” She prayed he was.

  “In his study, my lady. He has a guest.”

  “Still?”

  “Yes.”

  The relief she felt was overwhelming.

  “Perhaps your guests would like to go directly in to dinner, my lady,” Converse suggested.

  She knew his words were a warning, but his suggestion was met with immediate refusals from all the men who wanted a drink before they ate. And from the women, who wanted to hear Montfort’s explanation as to what had been so important that he’d missed escorting his wife to the opera.

  She took one step toward the closed door, but halted when she saw the desperate look Converse exchanged with the Marquess of Chardwell.

  Chardwell stepped forward. “Perhaps you should take your guests in to dinner and I will see what has occupied—“

  She didn’t let him finish his sentence but surged past him toward the closed study door.

  Her hand shook as she reached out. Every warning signal in her body screamed for her to turn back, that with a simple turn of the knob she could unleash horrors more devastating than she could bear to face.

  Clasping her hand around the knob was difficult. Flinging the door open was even harder. But she turned the knob and pushed open the door. And forced herself to step inside the room.

  Her knees buckled beneath her.

  Chardwell’s hands reach for her but she shrugged them away. She fought the deafening roar in her ears that accompanied the loud gasps of shock from the guests crowding into the room behind her.

  Her husband’s relaxed body stretched out on the settee. His chest was bare and the top buttons of his breeches were unfastened. His jacket, shirt, and waistcoat, along with his shoes, lay scattered on the floor beside him.

  He was asleep, so deep in slumber he obviously didn’t hear them enter. Lady Paxton did, however.

  With a startled look of surprise, she rolled off Joshua and stood. Her expression was one of innocent nonchalance as she stared without blinking at some of the most influential members of the ton.

  Strands of her disheveled hair fell over her face. Her flushed cheeks blushed slightly. With a delicate gasp of alarm, she snatched a pale pink petticoat and held it in front of her naked breasts.

  An eternity of uncomfortable silence besieged the onlookers. Their gazes shifted from Joshua’s prone body, to Lady Paxton’s scantily covered breasts, to the mortification chiseled on Allison’s face.

  Lady Paxton was the first to recover. “I gather it would hardly be worth the effort to deny that anything happened.” She looked down at Joshua, still sleeping soundly.

  Allison felt herself sway.

  Chardwell grasped her by the elbow. “My lady, why don’t you—“

  Allison jerked her arm away from him and reminded herself to breathe. She didn’t think she could. The hurt was too unbearable. She wanted to order Lady Paxton out of her home. But she couldn’t do that either. She didn’t have the fortitude. She no longer had the will. She could do nothing but flee—because she couldn’t bear to look at him any longer.

  On legs that trembled beneath her, she walked out of the room. Past her three sisters, each with tears streaming down their faces.

  Past her three brothers-in-law, who stood with their arms around their wives’ shoulders, as if their comfort could make what they’d just witnessed go away.

  Past the Earl and Countess of Etonbury, the countess one of the biggest gossips in all of London.

  Past the newly married Marquess and Marchioness of Questry, who undoubtedly welcomed the diversion from the marquess’s indiscretion with Lady Paxton just a week ago.

  Pas
t the Duke and Duchess of Bingham, two of the most well respected and influential people in all of Society.

  Without a glance back, she made her way across the foyer and to the stairs. Her soft slippers made hardly a sound on the marble flooring, yet each footfall echoed in her ears. When she reached the stairs she clutched her fingers around the wooden railing and steadied herself.

  “Oh,” she said, suddenly remembering they’d invited guests for a late supper. She turned. “Converse, would you please show our guests to the dining room?”

  She turned back and slowly climbed the stairs. “You’ll have to excuse me,” she said to no one in particular. “I’m not hungry.”

  Chapter 18

  Bloody hell! He wanted to die.

  Joshua struggled to open his eyes but the second he tried, a sharp pain exploded in his head like a cannon shot. He sucked in a harsh moan, then closed his eyes again. The agony was so intense he thought he’d be ill.

  “Lay still, Montfort” a gentle, yet familiar voice ordered. When he tried to move, a strong hand pushed him back against the mattress.

  He wanted to drift back into the deep, dark abyss of unconsciousness to avoid the pain, but a gnawing fear told him he didn’t dare. He struggled to pull himself out of the pit of terror into which he’d fallen.

  “Don’t move,” Chardwell warned again.

  He lay still until everything around him stopped spinning, then opened his eyes a crack. That small effort alone split his aching skull in two. He fell back against the pillow and didn’t move. Bloody hell! It even hurt to breathe.

  “What happened to me?”

  He heard the scraping of a chair over the wooden floor and knew Chardwell had taken a seat next to his bed.

  “We can talk about that later. When you’re better.”

  He felt a wave of panic pulse through him. “No,” he gasped, trying to force the words into the open. “I need to know what happened to me. I can’t remember. I can’t…remember.”

  The room was deathly quiet. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. He forced his eyes to open. Thankfully, the draperies were pulled and the room was cloaked in darkness.

  “What time is it?”

  “Eleven. You’ve been unconscious for nearly twenty-four hours.” Chardwell leaned closer. “Do you remember anything from last night?”

  “No.”

  It wasn’t easy for him to see Chardwell’s face, but even from this angle he could read the worry in his expression. “I was supposed to go to the opera but I received your note.”

  Chardwell released a heavy sigh. “I didn’t send you a note.”

  He digested Chardwell’s words. “Lady Paxton came to see me.”

  Waves of panic washed over him like tidal waves crashing onto the shore. Each assault building with greater ferocity. Creating more havoc. Causing more destruction.

  “What happened to me last night? Where’s Allison?”

  When Chardwell didn’t answer immediately, he swung his feet to the edge of the bed and struggled to get up.

  “Lay still, Montfort.”

  “Help me up, damn it!”

  Chardwell helped him to sit on the side of the bed. His head throbbed like there was a meat cleaver embedded in his skull and his stomach rolled until he thought he would be sick. Eventually, the pain eased.

  “Would you like something to drink?” Chardwell offered. “Some tea?”

  “Serena put something in the drink she gave me.” He clutched his hands to his throbbing head. His hands trembled violently, whether from the drug he’d been given or the terror raging through him, he didn’t know. “Tell me what happened last night. Everything.”

  He sat in stoic disbelief as Chardwell related what had happened. What Allison and their guests discovered when they walked in on them.

  He’d known it would not be good, but he had no idea it would be this devastating. He thought of Allison and the only promise she’d exacted from him before they married. An unbearable pain pressed against his chest.

  “What I don’t understand,” Chardwell pondered after he’d related every gruesome detail, “is why Lady Paxton did it? Surely she doesn’t envision herself so in love with you she wants to ruin your marriage?”

  He shook his head. “This wasn’t Lady Paxton’s doing.”

  “Then who—” Chardwell’s expression turned to shock. “Why? What could your father possibly hope to accomplish by discrediting you in front of the ton?”

  “Not the ton. Allison. He knows about the stipulations included in my marriage contract. He knows the only demand my wife made of me was that I would never embarrass her in front of the ton. That if I did, she would get it all. Even Graystone.”

  He buried his head in his hands. “How my father must hate me.”

  Several moments of agonizing silence passed before Chardwell spoke. “I left you for awhile this afternoon and went to Lady Paxton’s townhouse. I don’t know what I thought to accomplish, but… The butler who answered the door informed me Lady Paxton left early this morning for an extended holiday to the continent. He said he didn’t know when she’d be back.”

  “Thereby, making it impossible to corroborate my claim that I’d been drugged and was not awake during our liaison.” He wiped the perspiration gathered on his forehead. “Bloody hell, Chardwell. How could I have been so stupid? Why didn’t I see it coming?”

  He knew there was nothing Chardwell could say. Nothing that would make what had happened any better. The little strength he had left drained from his body. “It doesn’t look good, does it?”

  “It will seem better when you’re rested and the drug she gave you is out of your system. Why don’t you get some sleep now?”

  “I can’t sleep. I’ve got to talk to Allison. I’ve got to explain.”

  “You’re in no shape to go anywhere. Just rest. There’ll be plenty of time in the morning to face your problem.”

  A cold shill stole down Joshua’s spine. He suddenly realized that Allison wasn’t here. “Where is she?”

  Chardwell turned his gaze away.

  “Where is she!”

  Chardwell didn’t answer him for a long time, and when he did, he said the only word Gray never wanted to hear.

  “Gone.”

  +++

  He took the steps to the Earl of Hartley’s townhouse two at a time, then pounded the knocker against the door with enough force to wake the dead. His search for her since rising had been an effort in frustration and a bitter waste of time. He’d spent half the morning going from one of her sisters’ homes to the other. Phoebe had at least allowed him to cross her threshold. Although after the dressing-down he received, he almost wished she hadn’t. Mary had refused to see him. And Tess met him at the door, but the chilly reception he received was nothing short of blatant rudeness.

  Unfortunately, they all disavowed any knowledge of Allison’s whereabouts. He didn’t believe them.

  He stomped his foot on the red brick portico, listening impatiently for sound from within. He raked his fingers through his hair and rubbed his temples to ease the pain that pounded against his head.

  He was desperate to see her. Desperate to talk to her, to explain. He knew she was angry with him, hurt by what had happened. He didn’t blame her. But if he could only explain, surely she’d understand. Surely she’d believe him.

  He reached out his hand again to slam the knocker but stopped when the door opened. The Earl of Hartley stood on the other side of the door.

  “Where’s Allison?” He stepped past the earl and walked to the middle of the foyer.

  “I suppose it would do no good to ask you to leave?”

  “None. Now, where is she?”

  “In the morning room, but I’m not sure she wants to see you.”

  “Well, I want to see her.” He stepped past Hartley and walked across the foyer.

  “Wait!”

  He spun around to face the earl. He would fight him if he had to. “You’ll not stop me from seeing her. Sh
e’s my wife and I need to talk to her.”

  Hartley hesitated as if he wasn’t sure what to do. Then, in a visible act of frustration, he slapped his fist against his thigh and took one step toward Joshua.

  “Damn you, Montfort. Did you have to embarrass her so publicly? Did you have to bring your whore into your own home, beneath the very roof you shared with your wife? Did you have to let her wait here alone for two days before you came to offer an apology?”

  He felt his knees weaken. Is that what it seemed to the world? That he had such little regard for his wife that he’d flaunted his lover in front of her, then abandoned her as if her feelings meant so little to him?

  His breath caught. Yes, that’s what it seemed. And why should anyone expect anything different? That’s how he’d lived his whole life, wild and carefree, as a rogue and womanizer with never a serious thought in the world. No one knew how much he’d changed since he’d married Allison. Even her family.

  He opened his mouth to explain himself, but knew any excuse he made would sound hollow and weak. Especially if Serena was no longer in London to corroborate his story. Instead, he clenched his teeth and walked away.

  “Montfort, now’s not a good time.”

  He ignored him.

  “She has a guest.”

  He halted for a fraction of a second, then stalked to the morning room and flung open the door.

  Allison sat on the settee, her hands clasped in her lap, a look of surprise on her pale face. Her eyes were red and puffy as if it had not been that long ago since she’d shed her last tear. Although she’d always had a hale and hearty complexion, today her cheeks were wan and pale. The large dark circles beneath her eyes appeared even blacker.

  His heart ached when he saw her, the pain he’d caused her plain to see. He wanted to go to her and take her in his arms. Wanted to hold her and love her and erase everything that had happened in the last two days. But it was too late to undo the damage that had been done. And from the expression on her face, impossible to take her in his arms. The look in her eyes told him she didn’t even want him in the same room with her.