Once Dishonored

by Mary Jo Putney

  Her request was greeted with good-natured laughter and full attention. Suzanne continued, “As you know, besides the pleasure of your company, I wanted you to meet my friend Kendra Douglas, the former Lady Denshire. She has quite a story to tell, and I thought you would all find it interesting. Kendra, the floor is yours.”

  Kendra gulped. “I thought you’d want me to talk after we ate!”

  “You’ll enjoy the food more if you aren’t tied in knots,” Suzanne explained.

  “You’re probably right, but might I exchange my sherry for brandy?”

  There was a ripple of laughter as Suzanne complied. Kendra took one sip of brandy before she stood, setting her glass aside. “I imagine you’ve heard the story of the scandalous divorce of Lady Denshire. That story is based on wicked lies. Suzanne thinks I should tell the truth to a group of powerful, open-minded women. I’m not sure it will make a difference in my life or in the grand scheme of things, but—the truth matters.”

  “I shall be glad to hear it,” said Lady Kingston. “Even without knowing you, I thought the story sounded strange. Improbable. Since I’m a curious beast, as my husband says, I’ve wondered. The truth will be welcome.”

  Once more Kendra explained what had actually happened. There were gasps when she showed the burn scars on her leg, and frowns when she spoke of how Denshire had drugged her and thrown her out of the house and refused to let her see Christopher.

  When she finished, Lady Julia said, “It’s a shocking tale, and having met Denshire a few times, I have no trouble believing it.”

  There were murmurs of agreement from the others. Mariah, the Duchess of Ashton, said, “Denshire is not popular among intelligent women. He has social aspirations, and once he sought me out at a ball and attempted to ingratiate himself with my grand duchess self. I kept backing away and was considering tossing my champagne in his face when Ashton joined us.” She grinned. “My usually mild-mannered husband gave Denshire one of his looks. Denshire made an undignified retreat and has avoided me ever since.”

  Lady Masterson, tall and incisive, said, “You have been treated outrageously, and as a woman, you’ve had no recourse legally. But situations change and scandals fade. What would you like to see happen?”

  “I want my son back!” Kendra said without hesitation. “I’d also like my reputation back. I want people to know that I didn’t behave in such a shocking way. I took my marriage vows seriously and never considered breaking them even though the marriage had died. Unlike Denshire, who broke his wedding vows regularly and in every manner available. I would like to see his reputation blackened.”

  After a moment’s further consideration, she added, “I’d like to see him shipped off to whatever penal colony has the worst climate.”

  Lady Masterson laughed. “A suitable punishment for a vile man. I’d like to see all those things happen, and a good precedent set for other women in the future.”

  “I agree. A woman wronged needs allies,” Lady Kingston said thoughtfully. “I think all of us here have had experience of how abusive some men are. I don’t know if anything can be done for you through the legal system, but collectively we have a great deal of social power, and we all are lucky to have fine and reasonable husbands. We might be able to help you regain your reputation, and from that, perhaps your son.”

  “I would be so grateful if you could!” Kendra exclaimed, startled by what Lady Kingston was suggesting.

  “If we are going to be conspirators, I think we should be on more intimate terms,” Lady Wyndham, a striking redhead, said mischievously. “I’m Cassie.”

  “Not to be confused with me, Callie,” Lady Kingston said. “I lived several years in the United States, which enhanced my rebellious streak. I’m all in favor of fighting injustice.” Her smile showed teeth. “I would love to see justice visited on your horrid ex-husband.”

  “I was also once threatened legally by an appalling bully,” Lady Romayne added, her face shadowed. “A greedy brute who wanted to take my daughter from me.” Her expression eased. “Sometimes justice does prevail. Please call me Jessie.”

  “I’m Mariah,” the duchess said. “If Denshire craves acceptance in the highest levels of society, we definitely have weapons to wield against him.”

  “I’m Julia, of course,” Lady Julia said. “My courtesy title makes it obvious.” She cocked her head to one side. “The standard divorce decree does not allow remarriage. Do you think you might wish to remarry some day?”

  A swift image of Lucas flashed through Kendra’s mind. “I haven’t been able to imagine taking another husband. But who knows what the future holds? I’d like to have the choice available.”

  Callie nodded approvingly. “Half the women here are on their second husbands.”

  “Or third,” Jessie said under her breath.

  Callie chuckled. “Perhaps practice improves our judgment. In my experience, a second husband is far superior to the first, so it would be good to make acquiring one possible for you.”

  “I have a cousin who might be able to help with that,” Julia murmured, but added no details.

  Athena lifted her almost empty glass. “A toast to finding justice for Kendra Douglas!”

  The others all raised their glasses and chorused, “Justice for Kendra Douglas!”

  Kendra bit her lip, unable to stop her eyes from tearing up. “I don’t know what to say,” she whispered.

  “Thank you,” Suzanne prompted. “And now let’s eat!”

  CHAPTER 14

  Kendra was ready when Lucas arrived at Thorsay House shortly after breakfast to collect her for their journey in search of the past. The coachman loaded her modest luggage and they set off. They hadn’t seen each other the day before because they’d both been busy, and she’d rather missed him.

  The coach seemed an intimate space with just the two of them. Their legs were almost touching. She shouldn’t find the idea so pleasant. To distract herself, she asked, “How was your visit to the infirmary? You look more relaxed than usual.”

  “It shows?” he said. “Yes, Lady Kirkland has fine, dedicated people working there, and I even had the opportunity to reset a dislocated knee. Very satisfying.”

  She chuckled. “In other words, good medical fun. Will you make a habit of volunteering at the infirmary?”

  “Indeed I will.” His gaze shifted to the city streets they were passing through on their way out of London. “I haven’t worked since the aftermath of Waterloo. I’ve missed being useful.”

  She sobered. “I’ve read about the battle and the vast number of casualties, but my imagination surely can’t match the reality. I’ve heard that thousands of people were helping in any way they could to tend the wounded. You participated?”

  His gaze returned to her. “Yes, besides bonesetting, I’d had experience cleaning and dressing wounds. The streets were filled with volunteers working in emergency clinics. I set one up in front of Simon and Suzanne’s house. Everyone in the household was helping. If not nursing, then by bringing water or writing down last messages.”

  Kendra bit her lip as she imagined the pain of recording the last words of a young soldier to his family. “It’s moving to imagine you and Suzanne and the other members of the household working side by side. Humankind at its best.”

  He smiled fondly. “You’re quite right. We all worked together until Simon was well enough to travel home.”

  Surprised, she said, “Simon was wounded?”

  “Quite gravely, but he’s made a complete recovery.” Lucas glanced out the window again, his classic profile very still. “I didn’t return to England until August. By then all the casualties were either recovering or dead. By the time the Magdalene and I arrived at Simon’s estate, all I wanted to do was sleep.”

  The weeks of intense medical work had surely depleted him emotionally as well as physically. His left hand rested on the seat to her right, so she laid her hand over it. “You earned the right to rest as long as you wanted.”

&
nbsp; “Perhaps, but it’s time I woke up to the world.” He turned his hand under hers and gently squeezed her fingers before drawing away. “Don’t be offended if I keep my distance. It’s going to be awkward sharing a carriage with you for days on end when I’m increasingly attracted to you.”

  Feeling heat rising in her face, she matched his directness. “I believe that I’m equally attracted to you.”

  His face relaxed into a warm, sweet smile. “I rather hoped you might be. But there are far too many good reasons not to act on that attraction.”

  The air between them felt charged and full of promise. She edged away as far as the seat would let her. “Part of me says that I might as well throw off social constraints because I’m already thoroughly disgraced. A wiser part is saying that if I can find some way to challenge Denshire in court, I need to be above reproach. Yet even though I know that, I wanted your company on this journey.”

  He smiled ruefully. “I was equally aware that traveling together was not wise, yet here we are.”

  “Didn’t we decide that we are cousins? You are respectfully escorting your widowed cousin on a sad journey.”

  “I will remind myself of that often,” he said gravely. “And will find other topics of conversation. For example, how was your luncheon with the powerful women who might be supportive of your position?”

  “The six women Suzanne invited were impressive. A duchess, a marchioness, daughters of dukes, and more. Several are patronesses of Zion House, which is affiliated with your infirmary.” Kendra smiled dryly. “Anyone who had met Denshire was quite willing to believe that he’d behaved abominably.”

  “I believe that and I’ve never even met the man,” Lucas observed.

  “They all pledged to help in any way they can. It was . . . very moving.” Kendra swallowed hard. “They have influence with their husbands, and they have social power of their own. Apparently Denshire craves acceptance in the highest social circles, and it seems likely that will be denied him.”

  “Good! Social censure might persuade him to let you see Christopher, which is your first and most important goal.”

  Kendra prayed that would be so. Wanting to lighten the conversation, she said, “As a very nice bonus, three of the women are among the Angelo’s Wednesday morning Fencing Females group. I’ve been invited to join them whenever I wish. Thanks to Suzanne, I made friends yesterday, Lucas. It’s a good feeling.”

  “That could prove useful if I have to introduce a parliamentary bill charging Denshire with crimes,” Lucas said. “The more people who believe you, the better. Especially those women whose husbands sit in the House of Lords.”

  Her mouth twisted. “For now, my scandalous reputation seems a distant problem. This private pilgrimage has all my attention.”

  “I saw how devastated you were when you remembered your lost child,” he said quietly. “You seem more composed today.”

  It wasn’t quite a question, but she wanted to be honest with Lucas. “Remembering my Caitlin was shocking and painful, but at the same time . . . freeing. I hadn’t realized there was a dark hole in my past until I recalled her, and that brief moment when I held her.” She fell silent for the length of a city block before continuing. “Remembering her, I feel the lost possibilities. I’ve wondered what she would be like if she had survived. Would she be a tomboy like me? Would she look like Christopher? As twins, would they have been very close?”

  “Inevitable questions,” he agreed.

  “Yes, but losing infants is sadly common, something many parents have endured.” She drew a slow breath before adding, “My pain is not unique, and there is comfort in that knowledge.”

  “You’re very wise.”

  “I’m not sure about wisdom, but I’m trying to accept what cannot be changed and move forward. The most important part of my future is getting Christopher back.”

  “Tell me about him,” Lucas said, looking as if he really was interested.

  Once again, his understanding was a balm. “Never ask a mother about her child for your ears will be bored off!” How to describe her son, who was the light of her life? “I’m completely biased, of course, but I think he’s a lovely little boy. Healthy and sunny-natured and terrifyingly fearless. He loves riding and playing with the neighborhood children, but he also loves reading and learning.”

  “Is he kind?”

  “That’s an unexpected question, but it’s one of the most important traits, isn’t it?” she said thoughtfully. “Yes, he’s kind to other children and he’d bring home injured animals and we’d nurse them together. He adores his pony, Patches.” She swallowed, a catch in her throat. “Or he used to. When Denshire took him away, Patches was left behind.” Christopher had been wrenched away from everything he knew and loved. She tamped down the despair she felt at the knowledge that she might never see her boy again.

  “We’ll find him,” Lucas said with quiet firmness.

  She drew an unsteady breath. “Sooner rather than later, I hope. But let’s talk about you. What was your life like when you were a traveling friar?”

  “It was generally quite pleasant,” he said, accepting the change of topic. He gazed out the window, where the thinning edges of London were visible. “It was a quiet, rural life. We traveled on our mules and Frère Emmanuel was greeted with pleasure wherever we went. We would stay in farmhouses or villages or barns. Sometimes sleeping on straw in stables.”

  “How very biblical!”

  He chuckled. “Surprisingly comfortable if there were good supplies of hay or straw. Our patients didn’t have much, but they were eager to share. When word spread that we had arrived, people would come for treatment from miles around. Sometimes we could help with their problems. Sometimes all we could offer was our prayers. No one ever left Frère Emmanuel’s presence without feeling blessed and happier.”

  “What about your presence? Did the local girls try to lure you into sin?”

  Lucas made a face. “Occasionally. I gained a reputation for being boring and pious so they soon gave up.”

  Kendra suspected that would have made some girls try even harder to catch his attention, but Lucas must have learned how to be politely evasive. “I imagine it would have reflected badly on Frère Emmanuel if you succumbed to temptation.”

  “Yes, and worse, he would have been disappointed in me. I didn’t want that.”

  They’d left the city behind and were now among rolling green hills. Kendra imagined the two men, one old and one young, riding side by side on their humble mounts through similar hills. “He sounds like an extraordinary man.”

  “Frère Emmanuel had a saint’s kindness and faith, and he lived with one foot in heaven.” Lucas smiled a little. “I couldn’t match his saintliness, but I was good at dealing with worldly matters.”

  “Did he urge you to take vows?”

  “No, he was too wise for that. He said I shouldn’t become a friar unless I felt I had a true vocation. I never did.” After a long pause, he continued, “After Frère Emmanuel died, I realized how much my devotion was to him and to the healing skills I’d learned from him. They were what gave purpose to my life.”

  “You’ve lost him, which perhaps makes it even more important that you resume your healing work,” she said quietly.

  His brows furrowed. “I hadn’t thought of it in those terms, but you’re right. Healing is essential to my spirit. But it’s not enough.”

  She cocked her head. “What would ‘enough’ look like?”

  His smile was rueful. “I have no idea. I think we both share the state of not knowing quite who we are.”

  His words struck with the force of a ringing bell. Kendra had once defined herself as a mother and an estate manager and a very detached wife. Now she’d lost her child and her estate and was permanently detached from her husband. She was glad that she was no longer Denshire’s wife, but what was she? And what did she want to be?

  She wanted to be a strong woman. She wanted to be a mother again. Most of all
, she wanted to be in control of her life, not a helpless victim.

  Her gaze slanted to Lucas. Once she would also have said that she wanted to be single and unencumbered by a husband. She was beginning to rethink that.

  CHAPTER 15

  The weather had been dry for several days, so they made good time. It was late afternoon when Lucas said, “The next turn will take us into Camden Keep.”

  Kendra had been drowsing, but the announcement brought her fully awake. “Do your aunt and uncle know that you’re coming? And that you’re bringing a guest?”

  “I sent a note to let them know,” he assured her.

  She wondered if he’d explained that his guest was the notorious Lady Denshire. He was sanguine about their reactions to her, but men were often somewhat dense about such matters. Of course, this was Lucas, who noticed more than most men.

  As they turned through an open gate, she gazed out at the well-tended fields and the masses of daffodils. “Spring is such a beautiful time to be in the country. This estate is well kept and lovely.”

  “When Uncle William retired from India, he decided to dedicate himself to becoming a proper gentleman farmer, and anything he does, he does well.”

  The road turned into a curving drive in front of a sprawling house that was a patchwork quilt of styles from different eras. Delighted, Kendra said, “I recognize bits from four or five different centuries. How much am I missing?”

  He laughed. “I think there are another couple of centuries lurking in back. The oldest section is that fortified tower on the left side. That’s the original keep. More bits were added on as needed, and no one felt the need to be consistent. It’s a comfortable family house, not a showplace.”

  No wonder she liked it. She found families more interesting than showplaces. As the coach rumbled to a stop, she smoothed her hair and tucked a stray lock out of sight in an attempt to look as respectable as possible.

  Lucas stepped from the coach and offered her a hand. “It will be all right, Kendra. Really.”

  “I hope so.” Her smile was wry. “If not, I can find out what it’s like to sleep in the stables with the Magdalene.”