Wedded in Scandal

by Jade Lee

  He smiled. He couldn’t help himself. He liked that she would ignore all else to trust him. “Then let us say you are just weak enough. After all, a woman of too much strength is frightening to us poor men.”

  Her lips curved in response, and he saw a delightful twinkle enter her eyes. “And then there is the other reason.”

  “Yes?” he prompted when she didn’t continue.

  “I very much want to know what could hurt you, my lord. I shall not use it, but I should like to know this thing.”

  He tilted his head, wondering at her logic. “But if you won’t use it, then what good will it be to you?”

  “You will know that I know, and that I could go back on my word at any moment. I find I like the idea of you being afraid of me. Not a lot. Just enough so you understand how I feel every day.”

  His smile slid away. “Do you truly feel that afraid? Every day?”

  She nodded. She didn’t even say the word, but he could read it in her face. She was afraid constantly. That was expected, he supposed, with her world teetering on the financial edge as it did.

  “I could relieve that fear, you know. As my mistress, you would have ample money to support yourself and your friends.” He said the words, but they tasted bad in his mouth. And in his heart, he flinched. He did not like thinking of her as his mistress. And yet, the idea of lying with her was a constant desire. Even now he was hard with lust, though he took pains to hide it.

  And while he was struggling with his conflicting emotions, she simply shrugged. “Fear is not so bad. It keeps my thinking clear.” Then she flashed a rueful smile at him. “Most of the time, at least.”

  Then she disappeared upstairs, presumably to get her wrap. He heard her kiss her mother good night, then her light tread as she came down the stairs. As she alighted from the last step, he held out his hand to her. She didn’t even hesitate. In fact, there was a smile on her lips as he escorted her to the waiting hansom cab.

  She faltered just a moment when she saw the conveyance. “You didn’t bring your carriage?”

  “Not for where we are going. My servants talk enough as it is.”

  She seemed to understand that, and so allowed him to hand her into the cab. He gave the driver instructions and then joined her inside. And because it was cold, he settled beside her on the seat and tucked her close. Finally, amazingly, she was in his arms again.

  Helaine closed her eyes and allowed the world to spin, spin, spin out of control. How many unbelievable things had happened since she had woken up not more than an hour ago? First her mother had all but said, Go and become Lord Redhill’s mistress. Second, Robert had a secret that he was going to share with her. And most incredible of all: her mother didn’t hate her father. It seemed like such a silly little thing, and yet, that was what kept whirling about her brain. She didn’t hate him.

  “What has you looking so lost?” Robert asked.

  She bit her lip and guiltily lifted out of his arms. He resisted at first, but she persisted. Friends didn’t press themselves so tightly together. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to sour the mood.”

  His hand flowed over the top of hers, and she felt his warmth seep into her even through their gloves. “I want to know what you are thinking, not change the atmosphere, Helaine. Surely you know that by now.”

  “Yes, of course. But…” She didn’t know how to begin. “It will sound stupid.”

  “Then by all means, I must hear it now!”

  She chuckled because he meant her to. And then, because it was so easy to talk with him, she found herself answering without measuring her words. She just spoke, and it felt good to work it out with another person. With him.

  “My mother told me something shocking before I went down to see you. I daresay it doesn’t seem very shocking, but you must understand. I spent my childhood listening to her revile my father.”

  “What did she say?”

  “That even now, she would not change a thing. She would still marry him.”

  She felt him stiffen, pulling back with surprise. “Truly? She would still…After what he did?”

  Helaine nodded, relieved that she could finally speak openly with someone about her father. “His theft was the least of it, you know. He was a drunkard, pure and simple.”

  He squeezed her hand, and she realized belatedly that somehow she had reversed her position. They were now holding hands palm to palm, and she could not bring herself to let him go. Meanwhile, he shifted slightly in his seat. “Don’t feel as if you need to explain if it’s too painful, but I wondered exactly—”

  “You wish to know the details of what my father did?”

  Robert nodded. “I only know that he stole from the military supplies.”

  She laughed, the sound bitter to her own ears. “That at least I could understand. If he stole supplies to sell to pay our rent or something like that. But no. He had a good friend. A drinking friend, of course, who was in charge of certain military shipments to Spain.” Then she paused to look into his eyes. “Do you know what he stole, my lord? What my father, the Earl of Chelmorton, took from our boys fighting so far away?”

  He shook his head.

  “Expensive brandy. Wealthy families would ship excellent spirits across the ocean to their officer sons. Half the bottles never made it. Sailors, dockworkers, and the doctors were always nabbing one bottle or another. The doctors at least were taking it for anesthetic. The others…” She shrugged.

  “Yes, I understand there is a great deal of theft in military supplies.”

  “Yes, well, my father is just one of a long list of thieves in that supply chain. Except he did not steal a single bottle here or there. He stole an entire case. And not just any case, but one meant for the Earl of Bedford’s son.”

  Robert released a low whistle. “Bedford is not a man who tolerates theft lightly. And certainly not anything meant for his son.”

  “Yes, so we came to realize.”

  “But how did Bedford find out? Especially if the case had already entered military shipping?”

  Helaine laughed. “My father is a talkative drunk, my lord. Having grabbed such an excellent brandy, he immediately had a party. And when asked by his drinking companions where he’d found such wonderful vintage, he told them. He just…told them. And there were likely servants there, too.”

  “Good Lord.”

  “In any event, Bedford found out and cried foul…”

  “And your father was soon banned from society and you along with him.”

  She let her head lean back against Robert’s arm and wondered how she could possibly be about to cry. She hadn’t cried about this in so very long. “My father was a drunk and a fool, and because of that—”

  “Because of him, you and your mother have had to fend for yourselves from almost the very start.” He sighed. “Which means, of course, that you have been the one doing it.”

  “Oh, no! At first my mother was quite the wizard at keeping us together. At finding the way to get us a free meal or new clothing on the sly. But most of that was dependent upon society. Upon friends who invited us to their homes for tea or the like. Once, I believe, one of her oldest friends paid my tuition at school.”

  “But some scandals cannot be overcome, even by old and very dear friends.”

  She sighed, mourning more for all that her mother had lost rather than herself. “Mama had married for love, you see. I knew that, of course. Papa could be so much fun.”

  “No wonder you take a dim view of passion, Helaine. You have seen how very costly it can be.”

  She nodded, seeing that he was right. Perhaps that was why she was so shocked by her mother’s revelation. “She hates him, though. She has said so often. She said it tonight as well, almost in the very same breath that she said she would do it all over again. It makes no sense.”

  “But isn’t that the point of love? To not make sense?”

  “But she hates him. I know she does.”

  “And she still loves hi
m. The two are not so incompatible.”

  She twisted so that she could look him in the eye. “Of course they are. Hate and love are opposites. My mother is simply confused.”

  He laughed then. A low, rich sound that rumbled through his body into hers. It was so delightful a sensation that she could not be angry with him for laughing at her. “You would rather believe your mother insane than in love?”

  “I would rather the world made sense again. My father is a cad and a fool. My mother would be better off having never met him, never loved him, never married him.”

  “And yet she said tonight that she still loves him. And that bothers you.”

  “How would you like proof positive that your mother is insane?”

  He snorted. “We shall leave my mother and her ailments out of this, hm? We are speaking of your parents. I, for one, find it reassuring that love can withstand even the most terrible things. Yes, you suffered horribly because of your father’s mistakes, but the heart does not adhere to logic. And it can love despite someone’s faults.” He twisted slightly and she could see his eyes squint at her in the darkness. “Is that why you have never married? Never found a lover?”

  “What?”

  “Because you are looking for someone without faults. Someone who will not disappoint you as your father has done.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. No one is without faults.”

  “Exactly. And so you are alone.”

  She didn’t know what to say to that. She wanted to dismiss his idea out of hand, but inside she quailed. Was it true? Had she locked herself away because no man could possibly be perfect enough to not hurt her? “Then why am I here with you?” she said aloud, the question more for herself than for him.

  He tweaked her chin. “Perhaps because I am as perfect as you can find?”

  She snorted. “Hardly that.”

  “And yet, I am not so bad, either.”

  “What you are, my lord, is extraordinarily persistent. How many times have I rebuffed you? And yet you show up at my doorway and demand to see me.”

  “I made no demands,” he said with pretend hauteur. “I merely asked.”

  “It is one and the same with you.”

  “You did not need to come down.”

  She shrugged. “My mother insisted.”

  “Now, that is a bald-faced lie!”

  “She did!”

  “And you could have easily refused. But instead you put on a gown, brushed your hair, and are now here with me. Why, Helaine? I’m grateful, of course, but why?”

  She shook her head. “I told you before. Because I want to see this secret of yours.”

  “Ah, yes,” he said, though she could tell by his tone that he didn’t really believe her. “Then I suppose it is fortunate that we are here.”

  She straightened up from his side. She hadn’t even noticed the cab slowing down, but a moment later the door was opened and the driver was handing her down. She stepped out and looked around, recognizing the district if not their actual location.

  “Why would you bring me here?” she gasped. They were in the center of a row of large houses pressed tightly together. Farther down the street, a barely dressed woman stood at a doorway gesturing men inside. They were in an area known for its houses of prostitution, and he had brought her here!

  She was turning around to get right back into the carriage when he pulled her wrap over her head to shield her face. “Cover your head,” he said, “and keep tight to me until we are inside.”

  “But—”

  “Trust me!” he hissed as he grabbed her elbow and half walked, half marched her to a door. Had she been thinking more clearly, she would have resisted. There could be no good reason for him to take her to a place like this. But she was always muddleheaded around him, and so she went with him, ducking quickly inside when the door opened. Fortunately her madness never lasted for long. Once inside, she rounded on him immediately, her mouth open to blast him for whatever he thought he was doing. But her words were stopped in midbreath.

  They were standing in the middle of a large entry overdone in velvets and gilt. There were candles everywhere, or their stubs at least, and an open, spacious feel that she couldn’t help but appreciate. It was exactly as she might expect from a house of prostitution, except that she didn’t see any. No prostitutes. And even more confusing, she didn’t hear any. What she heard was children laughing. Three, if she had to guess—two girls and boy—but she wasn’t sure.

  “They’re playing with the kittens,” said the woman who had opened the door. “An’ jes’ like I said, that mama cat’s the best mouser I ever seen.”

  Helaine didn’t know what to say. Nothing made sense. Meanwhile, Robert was pushing the door closed and latching it with long familiarity. As he turned back, he touched Helaine’s elbow. “Mrs. Mortimer, may I present to you Chandelle of the Chandler.”

  The woman dropped into a neat curtsy, though her knees cracked as she did it. “Right pleased I am to meet any friend of Robert’s. I heard tell of your shop. Supposed to be right lovely designs.”

  “Uh—thank you,” Helaine responded, her gaze now taking in the woman before her. She was dressed practically, in warm wool of a common design. Her eyes were lined with wrinkles, not kohl, and she wore no jewels or anything, for that matter, that was designed to attract a man. She was as far from a working girl as Helaine could imagine, and that confused her even more.

  “Chandelle used to be a madame of a house of prostitution called the Chandler,” he began.

  “But we ain’t been doing that since ’is sixteenth birthday,” cut in Chandelle. “Now we’re jes’ a home for rest. Plus then there’s the kids.” At her gesture, they walked around a corner of the large room. There, rolling about on the floor, were three children and five kittens. The children were on their feet in a moment, all crowding around Robert. They were so thick that Helaine almost missed the younger woman sitting nearby. Her face was sallow, her eyes dull, but she smiled when she saw them and she greeted them in a whisper.

  “Evenin’, sir, miss.”

  Robert spent a few moments with each child, speaking to them by name and asking over this or that. Helaine could tell he was well known and trusted by each child. Then he detached himself from the group to kneel before the young woman, his gaze intent on her face. “Good evening, Nettie. You shouldn’t be out of bed.”

  “Ain’t no bleeding or swelling,” she said. For proof, she took his hand and pressed it to her left side. Robert’s eyes narrowed as he poked lightly. She winced with every touch.

  “It’s still tender.”

  “’Course it be,” Nettie answered as she pushed his hand away. “What with you prodding at it. You leave it alone. I’m watching the children.”

  He stood up with a smile. “Very well, but not too long, mind.”

  Chandelle stepped in. “She’ll go to bed in five minutes, along with the children.”

  A chorus of dissent rose up from that statement, but Chandelle gave them all a stern eye. She didn’t even have to say a word, and within a minute, every one of them said a soft “Yes, ma’am.” Helaine couldn’t help but be impressed. Clearly Chandelle was the law around here. Meanwhile, Robert took her elbow and steered her back toward the main entranceway.

  “My father gave me the Chandler on my sixteenth birthday not knowing, of course, that all the women here were sick with a fever. He left, but I stayed on, helping to nurse them. We’ve been a hospital of sorts ever since then, but the name remains.”

  She stopped dead in her tracks, her mind working too slowly. “So I wasn’t wrong. This is…It was…”

  “Yep,” inserted Chandelle as she came forward. “It were, but it ain’t been that for a long time now. Go on,” she said as she gestured them upstairs. “Go on and show ’er what you really do when you come here.” Then she released a cackle. “Well, that’s when I ain’t got him doing bedpans.”

  Helaine gasped. “You…you empty bedpans?”

 
He gave her a rueful look. “On occasion.”

  “Ha!” Chandelle inserted. “I makes sure ’e does ’em once a week just to keep ’im humble.”

  Helaine felt a smile curve her lips. “I’m afraid it’s not working very well, then. Perhaps you should increase the frequency.”

  Robert groaned. “Lord, Helaine, I didn’t bring you here to get me in trouble.”

  “Twice a week it is,” confirmed Chandelle. “Now go on up! Afore the rats get yer dinner.”

  Robert arched a brow in mock challenge. “I thought you said the mama cat was a great mouser.”

  “She’s only one cat!” Chandelle exclaimed. “She can’t get them all. Now shoo! You know the children won’t go to bed if yer around to play with.”

  At that Robert extended his hand to Helaine. She took it and they began to climb. It wasn’t a long way to the upper floor, but she spent the whole time sorting through what she’d seen and what she’d guessed. It started with Gwen. “Your sister has no idea about this, does she? Not what the Chandler was or what you’ve made of it.”

  “It mortifies me to think that she’s heard of this. I will have to explain it to her, so she knows not to be blurting it out.”

  “Why haven’t you already?”

  He grimaced as they topped the last step. “Because it is none of her business!” he groused. “This is my place. Every gentleman should have a place to go for some peace. This is mine.”

  “Most men pick gaming clubs.”

  He snorted. “Betting on a roll of the dice has always seemed singularly useless to me. The stakes are too low. Money, pshaw! Trying to find the cure for the pox or a bad knife wound, now that is a puzzle for a man.”

  Helaine had no answer for that, and while she sorted through those words, he squeezed her fingers. “Forgive me, but I really need to check on the baby. His mother died a few days ago. We’ve found a wet nurse, but one can never tell if the babe will take.” So saying, he knocked lightly on the nearest door, waiting until it opened. There stood a woman with full breasts and a milk-stained gown.

  “Just got them both down, sir. Sleeping like a dream.”

  Robert tiptoed inside to look down at two cribs, the first with a girl who had the nurse’s light brown hair. But the second was a tiny boy with dark hair and the tiniest little face Helaine had ever seen. He couldn’t be more than a couple weeks old at most.