A Scandalous Passion

by Kelly Boyce

  Billingsworth did nothing more but blink up at Spencer, but Caelie saw the fear in his eyes. He was nothing more than a bully and a coward when it came down to it.

  Caelie wanted to stop Spencer before he continued. Enough had been said. Enough to make her feel as if she had been stripped naked and left to stand there exposed to all. But she could not catch his eye as he stepped away from Billingsworth who heeded his warning and did not move. Spencer’s voice grew more emphatic with each step he took around the circle.

  “Due to this shunning—and the fact his family is in a bit of a financial bind, shall we say—Billingsworth decided the only way to justify his dishonorable jilting of Lady Caelie was to cast aspersions on her character. Aspersions that I can attest are nothing but lies.”

  “How do you know?”

  Caelie’s head whipped around to find the person who shouted the question, but the crowd had growth thick. It could have been anyone.

  “I know because Billingsworth told me of his plan. I counseled him against it and warned him there would be consequences, but of course he is an idiot. And like an idiot, he did not heed my advice and so here we are. But I have come to know Lady Caelie and can attest to not only her virtue but her outstanding character. As can my grandparents, Lord and Lady Ellesmere. Do you think they are not sound judges of character?”

  Spencer’s gaze penetrated the lord and ladies as he waited for any response. A rumble swept through their ranks, but no one spoke out to deny his claim.

  He smiled and turned to her, offering his hand. Caelie tried to read his expression, but she could not. The hardness she saw in his eyes frightened her. Still, she took a step toward him and slipped her hand into his.

  “In fact,” Spencer said, addressing his audience once more. “I am so certain of her good virtue I have asked her to be my wife.”

  Caelie froze. Her breath caught in her throat and blood pounded in her ears. Or was that the noise from the crowd? She tried to move, to speak, to do something but shock had rendered her immobile.

  Spencer held up his free hand to quiet the voices. “And she has graciously accepted.”

  Caelie remembered little after that. People approached her and offered congratulations. Lady Ellesmere reached her side and soon after that Lady Blackbourne and Lady Rebecca who she had not realized had even arrived. They flanked her and held her up and she plastered on a smile and nodded and said all the appropriate things.

  She had no idea of what happened to Billingsworth, and Lady Franklyn and her daughter were nowhere to be found.

  Somewhere nearby she heard Spencer’s laughter as he accepted pats on the back from the gentlemen and the regretful congratulations of the ladies who now had to cross him off their prospective list. But his laughter sounded as hollow as her insides.

  She did not look at him, though. She couldn’t.

  Every time she did, anger surged through her and stained any gratitude she should have felt.

  How could he do this to her?

  “Perhaps now would be a good time to take our leave,” Lady Ellesmere whispered in her ear as the crowd began to disperse and people returned to their own business, though experience told her the whispers of tonight’s events would last throughout the Season and beyond.

  Caelie allowed the marchioness to lead her from the Pavilion. Their carriage awaited them and when she stepped inside, Spencer had already taken the seat across from her. She sat down and turned her attention to the window. Lady Ellesmere sat next to her and took her hand. Caelie was more grateful for the older woman’s support than she could say.

  “Lady Caelie—” Spencer said but she gave a sharp shake of her head to cut him off.

  Her thoughts and emotions were too tossed and shaken to discuss what had happened.

  “We will discuss this when we arrive home, my dear,” Lady Ellesmere said. “She has been through a shock. Let her be.”

  Tense silence filled the carriage and followed them through the streets of London and into the welcoming warmth of the Kingsleys’ stately home.

  “Forgive me,” she said, after giving Fenton her cape. “I believe I will retire for the evening.”

  Spencer stepped forward and reached for her. She managed to side-step him and reach the staircase. “Caelie, we need to talk.”

  “Later. Tomorrow.” Never. She turned her back on him and walked up the stairs, not stopping until she had found refuge in her room.

  * * *

  “What else would you have had me do, Grandfather?”

  It had been a long night and it had not ended yet. He had given Caelie the time she requested though he would have much preferred to explain his actions to her. Instead, he had searched out his grandfather, and hoped the man would understand he had done the only thing he could. He’d had no other choice. The moment he’d entered the Pavilion two separate gentlemen he barely knew made veiled references about Caelie. It wasn’t until he caught one of them by the throat and demanded he explain himself that Spence learned the truth. Billingsworth and Lady Franklyn had begun their campaign to ruin Caelie’s reputation beyond repair.

  He’d rushed inside in the hope of getting her out before word spread too far, but when he saw her standing toe to toe with Billingsworth, he knew he had failed.

  That he did not kill Billingsworth on the spot was a miracle in itself. Rage burned through him like an inferno. After hitting the coward and planting him on his arse for the second time, Spence’s brain raced for a solution to repair the damage and came up with only one—denounce Billingsworth as a liar and a cad then reinforce Caelie’s virtue by announcing their betrothal. As the future Marchioness of Ellesmere, no one would dare treat her with anything but respect.

  A brilliant plan, really.

  Unfortunately, Caelie did not appear to agree. Nor did Grandfather, based on his current expression. He sat in his chair in front of the fire with his fingers steepled beneath his chin, staring at Spence. “When did you make this proposal?”

  “Ah…” Right. The only hitch in his scheme. “I haven’t. Not exactly. I suggested it perhaps…earlier.” He left out what had precipitated his asking. It would do nothing to warm Grandfather to the notion if he knew such details.

  “And when you suggested it, what was her response?”

  Spence picked at an imaginary piece of lint on his buff breeches. “She may have indicated it was a bad idea.”

  “It is good to see one of you had your senses about you then.”

  Spence glared at his grandfather. “That was before Billingsworth spread his lies, however. She is under our protection, Grandfather. Would you have had me leave such a thing unanswered? She would be forever ruined! You cannot tell me that is what you wished to see happen.”

  His grandfather turned his gaze to the fire, his aged hand rubbing against his chin. For a long moment, he said nothing, simply stared at the flames as they licked the back of the hearth. The wood crackled and popped, the only sound to permeate the silence in the room.

  “Grandfather?”

  “I know what it is like to protect the reputation of a lady you hold dear,” he said, without looking at Spence. “But it is not always possible. We cannot always protect them against their own actions.”

  Spence shot to his feet. “What are you saying? Are you telling me you believe Billingsworth?”

  His grandfather turned his attention back to him. “Do I have your word then that she has not been compromised?”

  Spence dropped back into his chair. “She is a good person, Grandfather.”

  “Of that I have no doubt. Unfortunately being a good person does not make you immune to mistakes.”

  “She has not made any mistakes.” The mistakes had been all his.

  A long breath escaped his grandfather and for the first time Spence noticed how deeply etched the lines of his face had become. Was it from age, or worry, that made them so? He couldn’t say. Sometimes, it appeared Grandfather wore the weight of the world on his shoulders. He took to his
responsibilities with a gravity most men would fear to attempt. Spence had done nothing to make the task easier for him.

  He wished he could now, but it wasn’t to be. “Grandfather, I have already announced our engagement.”

  “Yet she is not amenable to the marriage.”

  Spence stared at the fire. “No.” But he could convince her surely. Given the circumstances, her options were limited. It did not exactly bode well for a happy life, did it?

  “Then she may still break it off?”

  “You sound almost hopeful, Grandfather. I thought you would at least be pleased you will finally see me married off.”

  “To a reputable lady devoid of scandal, not one about to dive into it even further. It will not do, Spencer. I will not allow it.”

  Spence stalked to the window. He understood his grandfather’s concerns. He had concerns of his own about how they would navigate this marriage without sinking them both into a sea of despair. But what was done could not be undone.

  Caelie waited outside the door for Spencer’s reply. It never came. Proof he did not want this marriage; that his proposal had been out of a sense of duty, a need to save her. It had nothing to do with love or wanting to create a life, a home and a family together.

  She placed a hand over her mouth and held back the tears. She had gone in search of Lady Ellesmere. The older woman had said little during the ride home in the carriage, but her comforting hand on Caelie’s had been the only lifeline that kept her from breaking down completely. She needed to explain, perhaps to even tell her the truth and seek her advice on what to do.

  She hated that this family would pay the price for her mistakes.

  But it had been Lord Ellesmere’s voice she’d heard as she walked down the hallway. She should have moved on, but she didn’t. She regretted that now.

  Humiliation, shame and distress stormed through her like a tempest. Lord Ellesmere wanted Spencer to break their engagement. He did not want the marriage to take place. She did not blame him. She was damaged goods. A fallen woman.

  They did not deserve this, and she would not see them suffer for it.

  She turned away from the door and hurried down the hallway. Elsie turned away from preparing her bed as she burst through the door of her bedchamber.

  “M’lady, I wondered where you got off—what is it?”

  “Elsie, I need your help.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “What do you mean she is gone?”

  Spence had slept until well past noon, though perhaps sleep was too generous a term. Mostly he’d tossed and turned, Grandfather’s final words echoing in his head. Grandfather was generally a more reasonable man, but no matter how Spence had tried to convince him marrying Caelie was the right thing to do, the man would not budge. Finally, he’d had to tell him no, much as it pained him to disappoint the man who had been more of a father to him than his own, he would not abandon her. He would marry her.

  Not that the idea of marriage didn’t terrify him. It did. For all the reasons it always had. Only now, it was worse. Now he understood just what he stood to lose when things went bad. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so worrisome if he had even the smallest clue how to prevent it from happening, but he didn’t. And his parents were certainly no help in that regard. Their example a cautionary tale of epic proportions.

  But instead of finding Caelie in the breakfast room, or anywhere else for that matter, to speak to her about what had happened last night, he’d found his grandmother instead.

  Grandmama handed him the note that had awaited her when she came downstairs to the breakfast room. Spence took the folded sheet of vellum paper and flipped it open. Sun poured into the room through the window behind him and illuminated Caelie’s precise handwriting where it flowed across the ivory paper.

  He skimmed the words. She thanked his family for taking her in and treating her with such kindness and respect…expressed her deep regret for the suffering and embarrassment she had caused them…would not put them through any more distress on her behalf…appreciated Spencer’s attempt to save her reputation…refused to hold him to his announcement of their betrothal…best for all concerned.

  He dropped the letter onto the table. “Where has she gone?”

  “She does not say.”

  “But this is madness! We are to be married.”

  Grandmama shook her head and the sadness he remembered from so long ago settled itself on her usually sunny expression. She sat down at the table and let out a long breath. “I had hoped this would end differently.”

  Spence glanced up from the letter sharply. “What do you mean? Did you…did you want us to marry?”

  His grandmother smiled but it did not light her eyes. “How could I not? From the moment you arrived I could see the two of you had formed a strong attachment.”

  “We—I—How?”

  “When we told you about Marcus, you leaned into her as if she was a safe haven. You have never done that before, did you know that? You are always the one providing support to others. Your parents when they fought their battles, Lord Blackbourne when he faced an unwanted marriage to Miss Caldwell, Marcus when you knew he could not stand another sea voyage, and then Lady Caelie when her mother cast her aside and left her unprotected.”

  “I had no other choice.”

  “Yes, you did. But you had no choice when it came to falling in love with her, did you? I expect it took you quite unaware.”

  “I am not—”

  She waved off his denial and just as well. He had no strength to put behind it. “You are and I know it terrifies you. But you are not your father or your mother. You have taken the best of them and you have left the worst where it belongs, buried in their graves. Do not use them as your example of what marriage can do. Use your grandfather and I. Use Lord Blackbourne and lovely Abigail.”

  Spence sat in the chair at the head of the table. “Those are only two examples, Grandmama. You are forgetting all the other unhappy ones I see every day. Ones I use to my advantage, if you must know.”

  “Do not think I am unaware of your…activities. Though I would point out, the marriages you insert yourself into have never been ones made by love. They were marriages brokered for money and titles and social advantage. Sometimes those marriages work, your grandfather and I certainly did. But many times they do not. It is better to marry with your heart, Spencer.”

  “As my parents did? Yes, that worked well, didn’t it?”

  His grandmother reached across the table and took his hand. “Your parents loved each other, just at different times.”

  “What are you talking about? Father was the only one in love in that marriage.”

  “Your mother loved your father.”

  Spence scoffed. “So much so that she had a string of lovers. Including one she planned to run off with when she died, if you’ll recall. Is that what you mean when you say she loved him?”

  Grandmama lapsed into silence for several long moments. Spence opened his mouth to apologize for his churlish words, but she stopped him. “When your parents married, your father made his own choice, despite my misgivings. It was readily apparent that Margaret was besotted with your father. Much like you, Reginald had more charm and good looks than he knew what to do with. I counseled him against making an offer. I thought the imbalance of affections would cause difficulty.”

  “Yes, it is never a good thing to have someone love you, is it?” Spence could not keep the sarcasm from his words.

  “Not when only one heart is engaged.”

  Spence scowled, the words hitting too close to home.

  “Your father refused to listen. She was a beautiful woman from a good family. It was a feather in his cap, and your father had enough of an ego to think this was reason enough. I think he believed he could remain indifferent to Margaret, to do his duty without curbing his other behaviors. And so he married your mother and kept to his parties and gaming tables and mistresses.”

  Spence shook his head. Grandm
ama had it wrong. “You are mistaken. Father doted on Mother. It was she who sought men outside of her marriage. She who took lovers and flaunted them in my father’s face.”

  He still remembered the arguments. The shouting and accusations, the tears and misery. The constant push and pull with him caught in the middle like a pawn on a chess table. When his parents fought, nothing was safe. They attacked each other with a feral ferocity. Lamps, plates, clocks—anything that wasn’t nailed down was fair game to be picked up and thrown. As a young boy, he often became trapped in the room with them. Though uncommon for children to be with their parents to such a degree, he had feared leaving them alone. Feared one day they would fight to the death.

  It turned out he had been right. And he bore witness to that as well.

  “Yes, in the end,” his grandmother said. Sadness had crept into her voice. “But not always. Margaret came to the marriage with lofty, romantic dreams and she watched every one of them be dashed upon the rocks as your father treated her with casual indifference.”

  The tale Grandmama told was topsy-turvy. He remembered none of this. “When did it change?”

  “Shortly after you were born. Your mother’s sunny nature had dissipated by then. She transferred her love to you and cut your father out. It wasn’t until he could no longer count on her full affections that he realized how much she had come to mean to him. He had done the unthinkable and fallen in love with his own wife, but he did it much too late. By then, your mother’s heart had been scarred and jaded. She could not forget the hurts he had caused. She had turned bitter and wanted nothing more than to hurt him in return.”

  “I remember.” The vivid recollections were never far from his mind.

  “Your grandfather and I tried to counsel them to restrain their emotions, to behave with decorum. We feared if it went on, the results could only end in tragedy.”

  “And they did.”

  “Yes.”