Patricia Frances Rowell

by A Scandalous Situation

  “No doubt a mistake on my part,” drawled Lord Rosley. “I am, in all likelihood, funding more mischief.”

  “Oh, no, Papa. I have promised not to get sent down again before summer. Honor of a Kethley. Besides…” The look the young assume when they believe they have been unfairly used invaded his face. “I have not done so nearly so often as John did.”

  “God be praised.”

  At Lord Rosley’s dry rejoinder, Rob’s ready laughter escaped him in a loud burst. “I see that rearing sons is a challenging undertaking.”

  At that moment the ladies entered, and all three gentlemen got to their feet, Lord Rosley with some effort. He subsided gratefully into his chair as soon as his wife and daughter had been seated. A few steps behind them, the schoolroom party arrived under escort of Valeria’s governess. Rob came to his feet again and made a bow as Lord Rosley presented his youngest progeny.

  “Your most obedient servant, Miss Valeria. Nathaniel.” Rob shook the boy’s hand and solemnly kissed the girl’s petite fingers, smiling at the ensuing blush. “Would you like to sit here?” He pulled a chair forward and placed it beside his own. Not to be outdone in honor, Nathaniel quickly drew his own seat near.

  Rob studied the young lady perched demurely at his side, her eyes fixed shyly on the hands in her lap. Her honey-blond hair contrasted sharply with Laki’s long black curls, but the long thick lashes rested on her cheek just as his own little girl’s had done.

  Rob missed his little daughter. How old would Laki have been by now? No need to calculate. He knew to the day. Only seven. The familiar lump rose in his throat. Five years was much too short a life.

  While her mother conversed with Thomas and her father tried in vain to achieve a comfortable position for his afflicted foot, Iantha watched Lord Duncan quietly from her place across the room. First he engaged Nathaniel in a lively discussion of hunting. A very manly conversation, indeed.

  One that Thomas could not resist joining, but his lordship gave the same grave attention to Nat’s opinion of Peel’s hounds as he did that of his big brother. Iantha smiled as her youngest brother swelled almost visibly with increasing importance. Lord Duncan certainly knew how to make a friend of him!

  Then, by some means or other, he drew Valeria into the conversation. From her giggles and blushes and a few overheard words, Iantha deduced that the subject now had to do with prospective beaux. Even a few scornful comments from Nathaniel did not seem to dim the girl’s pleasure. Unmistakable signs of incipient hero-worship blossomed on both the youngsters’ faces. Yes, his lordship could definitely win children.

  But she detected no sign that he felt any differently about damaged goods than any other man.

  The dinner party quickly took on the air of a quiet celebration for the return of the lost. Even Lord Rosley managed a quip or two. His lady beamed at all of them. Rob did his jovial best, but his gaze persisted in traveling to Miss Kethley, who smiled silently and bestowed her attention on her food, presenting little clue to her thoughts. The interesting companion with whom he had dined at the Eyrie had retreated behind her wall of mannerly restraint.

  What made him think she would entertain an offer from him? Perhaps he would be better advised to let the matter drop. But if he did that, she would certainly believe that he had changed his mind because of her misfortune. He despised that sort of thinking. He would never hold against her something over which she had no control. Men who were themselves the worst sort of rake seemed always the first to condemn women.

  Rob did not intend to count himself in their number.

  But her father had said she would not have him.

  Well, they would see about that.

  At last Lady Rosley rose from the table, and she and Miss Kethley turned to leave the room. Rob stood and cleared his throat. “If Lord Rosley and Thomas will forgive me for not sharing their port, I would like to have a few words with Miss Kethley, if I may.”

  “To be sure.” His lordship nodded. “The sawbones says I can’t drink port now, in any event, and Thomas will be the better for tea. We will join Lady Rosley.” He struggled to his feet, reaching for his cane.

  Rob offered Miss Kethley his arm, and she, with her usual hesitation, took it and directed him to a small parlor adjacent to the dining room. He could feel tension radiating from her body through her slender arm. He patted her hand comfortingly, but did not speak until they were ensconced before a cozy fire.

  He would have preferred to share the sofa with her for this occasion, but she moved immediately to the chairs flanking the fireplace. Rob pulled the chairs closer together—near enough to face her across a much shorter distance. Deciding against taking her hand, he leaned forward with his forearms on his knees.

  “Miss Kethley, I feel sure you know what I wish to discuss with you.”

  She held up a hand, palm outward, her expression serious. “Please, Lord Duncan. There is no need for this conversation. I appreciate your willingness to act as a gentleman, but I would not ensnare you simply because you had the ill fortune to save me from a storm. I have told you—my reputation is not at stake.” She glanced at the fire, then down at her hands. “And I…I am sure my father told you…”

  “About the terrible outrage you endured? Aye, he told me. And I have no desire to further the injustice done to you afterward.”

  She raised her eyes to his. “What do you mean?”

  “That I see no justice whatever in denying you the home and family you deserve simply because a set of blackguards chose to work their perverted will on you.”

  “Plain speaking, indeed, my lord.”

  “And why not? Their actions confer no shame on you.”

  Iantha again retreated into staring at the fire. “Mama also says that. But as you are well aware, Lord Duncan, most of the world does not share that opinion.”

  “Most of the world be damned! Will you allow yourself to be held prisoner in the wilds of Cumberland by narrow minds?” A frown drew his lordship’s dark eyebrows together.

  “I am not a prisoner, my lord. I go into society occasionally—to small neighborhood affairs. And Mama entertains. My parents have urged me to visit London, but… I… I do not want to go. Word of the incident spread like wildfire through the ton. Everyone knows. And beside that, it is very difficult for me to be with a large group of people.” How could she make him understand?

  The suffocating.

  The bodies brushing against hers.

  The constant struggle against panic. Iantha shuddered.

  And of course, there were the hushed whispers and the occasional snicker. And the looks of sympathy. Suddenly the anger began to rise. She fought it back until she could say, quite evenly, “I do not require your pity, Lord Duncan.”

  “And I, therefore, do not offer it.”

  He looked her steadily in the eyes.

  “Then why are you so insistent on making this proposal?”

  He sighed and leaned back in the chair. “I am not sure. A large part of it is that I hate injustice. I have an ardent desire to correct it. But…” He grinned suddenly. “I believe that a larger part of my determination stems from the fact that I have recently made the acquaintance of a most fascinating female. One who is not only lovely, but who is intelligent and talented and adventurous. I have a strong need for adventure myself—and for someone to share it with me.”

  “But you returned from your great adventure in India. Did you tire of it?”

  Lord Duncan sobered. “No. No, I finally realized that part of my life is over.” He took a turn at gazing into the fire. Iantha waited for him to gather his thoughts. “You see, I married there—a lovely Indian lady. She died two years ago.”

  “You are still grieving.”

  “In a way I suppose I am. I will certainly never forget her. But more than that, I am lonely. I miss them….” He rubbed his cheek thoughtfully. “I also lost my little girl to the same fever.” His voice wavered. “The Indian climate is the very devil for fevers.” He c
leared his throat and surreptitiously dabbed at the corner of his eye. “It is for my daughter that I still grieve.”

  Iantha pushed back a wave of sadness. “I’m so very sorry. Losing a child must be terrible.”

  “Aye, it’s that.” He took a long breath. “And since they died, I have encountered no other lady who took my interest. Until you pointed that pistol at me.” His grin returned.

  In spite of herself, Iantha blushed. “I do apologize. It is just that—that…”

  “You have no intention of repeating your earlier experience.”

  “Exactly.” She looked up, startled. “Yet I simply cannot stay within doors all the time. Nor can I abide being followed around by a groom—always cautioning me and hurrying me. Besides, I had four men with me before. The gang shot them all. Had I had a number of pistols in the coach, the story might have been different.”

  If nothing else, she might have shot herself.

  A decided improvement over what had actually happened.

  The skin between Lord Duncan’s eyebrows once again pulled into a frown. “I cannot hear the incident mentioned without wanting to do those fellows a severe injury.”

  “I appreciate your indignation on my behalf.” Iantha leaned forward. “But don’t you see, Lord Duncan? It is not only my body they hurt. My spirit is wounded. I may never again be whole.”

  He leaned toward her in turn, this time taking her hand. “I would like to heal that hurt. I would very much like to see you whole.”

  Could that ever be? Iantha started to withdraw her hand, then subdued the impulse. If only he knew how much effort it cost her. His nearness stirred tremors deep inside her, profound, disturbing. Confusing.

  “I might never be able to give you another daughter. I’m afraid I could never be a true wife to you.”

  “I know that it would be very difficult for you, but it would not be necessary at first. I believe that together we can slowly overcome this dreadful fear.” He smiled. “After all, Miss Kethley, learning to make love is one of life’s greatest adventures. Share it with me. Let me help you. Step by step, touch by touch. Starting with allowing me to kiss your hand.” He lifted her fingers and brushed his lips across them, then returned the hand to her own keeping.

  She rubbed the spot that his mouth had touched. A home. Perhaps children. Children were the only humans with whom she now felt at ease. How comforting it would be to have her own.

  And someone to share adventures with.

  Life’s greatest adventure. Was it still possible?

  “Might we first have a long engagement?”

  “As long as you need.”

  “You are indeed willing to make so great an effort?”

  “Aye.”

  Iantha’s mouth firmed. “Then I can but equal it.”

  Chapter Five

  The spirit at breakfast was even more celebratory than that of the previous evening. Mama was jubilant—very quietly and discreetly, of course, only her sparkling eyes betraying her. Papa looked as if the weight of the world had been removed from his back. Lord Duncan seemed excessively pleased with himself.

  Iantha fought for control.

  What had she done? Even at her own family’s table his presence flooded her with unaccustomed sensations, tightening every muscle in her body. And then he would say something that made her laugh in spite of herself. And turn his warm smile on her. And she would forget for a moment. Perhaps he was correct in believing that he could help her become whole. One thing was certain—she would never again have the opportunity he offered.

  She would make the attempt. With every fiber of her being, she would do her best to put the past behind her—to become the woman she had once hoped to be. Lest the terror again sweep over her, Iantha forced herself to think about the conversation at hand.

  Her mother was speaking. “I believe we should announce the betrothal at Christmas. That is such a lovely time for a joyous occasion, and people love to come to the country for the holiday. I shall begin making a list at once. We must have all our acquaintances. But of course, Iantha, dear, if you would prefer—”

  Iantha shook her head. She had much rather put off any announcing until she felt more sure that she had made the correct decision. But her mother’s face positively glowed with anticipation. “Perhaps a small party, Mama. I…” Lady Rosley’s face dimmed. Iantha could not bear to disappoint her. “But I will defer to your judgment. You will know best what to do.”

  “I believe Christmas is a first-rate idea, Lady Rosley.” Lord Duncan set down his fork. “But may I suggest a slight alteration to the plan? There is something I have been wanting to do, and I would welcome your help with it.”

  Lady Rosley raised her eyebrows. “Why of course, if I can assist you with anything…”

  “The thing is, I would like to make my return to England more widely known. I have been thinking of having a house party at Christmas myself to reopen the Eyrie. I’m sure my aunt, Lady Dalston, would be willing to act as my hostess, but she is rather elderly, and I need help with the guest list and other arrangements. Those matters are beyond my ken.” He gave the lady the full effect of his winning smile. “If you would be willing, as a favor to me, to allow me to host the affair and help me with it, Lord Rosley might make the announcement then.”

  Very delicately handled. Now why did his lordship really want to host the party? Iantha aimed a questioning glance in his direction, but he contrived not to see it.

  “Having an affair to announce your return is well thought of.” Lord Rosley considered as he added cream to his coffee. “I’m sure you will wish to continue to pursue your business interests. You will want to renew acquaintance with certain influential people.”

  “Exactly. What do you say, Lady Rosley? Do you think we can make the Eyrie sufficiently festive for such an occasion?”

  The gleam of challenge appeared in Lady Rosley’s eye. “I’m sure we can, my lord, although I have not visited there in many years. It has been kept up?”

  “Yes, ma’am, by my agent. But it could use a lady’s hand.”

  Her ladyship warmed to the subject. “Christmas in a castle. Oh, yes. We must use evergreen garlands, of course, lots of them, and have musicians who can perform suitable music—carols and lays and—”

  “And plenty of dances.” Lord Duncan winked at Iantha.

  The decision had been removed from her hands. Great heaven! How could she tolerate so many people for so long a time?

  The answer to both her recent questions was forthcoming as she walked Lord Duncan to the door. The rest of the family diplomatically took themselves elsewhere so that they could speak privately. He turned to her with a smile. “Have I been inexcusably managing? Do you wish me at Jericho?”

  Iantha shook her head resignedly, but returned the smile. “I can see that it will require forcible measures for me to assert my will in the future.”

  “Not at all.” He started to reach for her hand, then aborted the gesture. “If you dislike my arranging a great deal, I will immediately withdraw it.”

  “I…I am a bit apprehensive about dealing with a large crowd for several days.”

  “I know.” A hint of sadness tinged his smile. “But I want you to have an opportunity to spend some time in your future home. And I believe we will do well to confront the gossips at the outset.”

  “To begin as we mean to go on?”

  “Precisely. I am confident that no one would dare be insulting to you in my house, but if they express so much as a single innuendo, I will feel free to deal with them as I see fit. I could not do that in your parents’ home.”

  “I see.” What a fierce protector she had acquired!

  “We must contrive to give you the privacy you need. I want you to be able to withdraw when you feel pressed. You would not do that if you felt obliged to help your mother in her home.”

  “No,” Iantha admitted. “I would not. You are very thoughtful, Lord Duncan.”

  “I intend to keep my pro
mise to you, Miss Kethley. We will achieve your liberation one small bit at a time. You will not be required to brave a baptism of fire. But tell me…”

  “Yes?”

  “Now that we are betrothed, may I have the use of your given name?”

  Startled, Iantha laughed. “I hadn’t thought of that. Of course, if you like.”

  “I like. And I would like even more for you to call me Rob.” Without giving her time to respond, or to think, he leaned down and bestowed a quick kiss on her cheek.

  And walked away whistling.

  The invitations to the house party were duly inscribed and sent, inviting the guests to arrive the day before Christmas Eve and stay for a week if they could. A week! Iantha shuddered at the thought. And yet she felt an excitement she had not felt in years, made up of equal parts anticipation and anxiety.

  What had she agreed to? Marriage? A husband, his bed? Could she endure it? His lordship believed that she could gradually overcome her fear. Was her mind and her rigid discipline enough to get her through that challenge? She wanted it to be.

  Curse those devils! She wanted a normal life! Not this half existence of confinement, shame and fear. And if Robert Armstrong had the courage to offer her marriage, she would spend every ounce of her own to make that marriage a success.

  Somewhere she must find the strength.

  Today she traveled to visit her new home in the company of her parents, to discuss arrangements for the Christmas announcement party. How different this trip seemed from her fateful one two weeks ago. Today the sun shone brightly, and the snow remained only in shaded spots. Released from their winter prison, small cataracts of snowmelt tumbled joyously from the crest of every hill, joining the stream that cut through the floor of the narrow valley.

  Last time, she had driven alone in the open air. Now weeks later she rode confined in a coach with Mama and Papa. Dear though her parents were to her, Iantha longed for her paints and the solitude and fresh air of her gig. That useful equipage had been retrieved from the snow-bank, but despite many promises, had yet to be repaired.