The Sweetest Sin

by Kelly Boyce

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “I must say, I am surprised to receive such an invitation and while I most appreciate the thoughtfulness behind it, I’m afraid I must decline,” Alex said.

  Lady Glenmor offered up a simple smile, yet behind the expression, lurking in the depths of her dark gaze, he saw no acceptance of his claim. A suspicion her response soon echoed. “I’m afraid I cannot accept your refusal, my lord.”

  “You cannot—” He stopped. He was not used to having his decrees questioned, let alone refused outright with such calm command. Hen had indicated to him Lady Glenmor had a backbone formed of steel and the courage of ten men. She had not been off the mark in this regard. “May I inquire as to why you cannot accept my refusal?”

  “Because a mutual friend of ours is about to make a grave mistake and while it may not be my place to interfere, I had promised myself upon first meeting her to watch over her and I find this is a promise I cannot turn away from, even if it makes me appear an interfering old ninny.”

  Alex doubted anyone would look upon Lady Glenmor and have ninny be the first description that came to mind. “I see. Then you do not believe a trip to Italy something she might enjoy?”

  “Perhaps under different circumstances.”

  “And what circumstances might those be?”

  Lady Glenmor pursed her lips. Her mouth was a bit wider than was perhaps fashionable, but it fit well within her attractive countenance and gave the impression it might, at any moment, break out into a lovely smile with little to no provocation. Unfortunately, this did not appear to be one of those moments.

  “To save a young girl from ruin.”

  Her claim left him baffled. “I’m afraid you will have to be more clear, Lady Glenmor. What young girl could possibly be in threat of ruin that Lady Henrietta’s absence would somehow prevent?”

  But even as he asked the question, the answer settled around him, spoiling the hearty lunch he had eaten only an hour earlier.

  “Margaret,” he whispered then shook his head. “But that makes no sense.”

  “And I am afraid I cannot help you make sense of it. Lady Henrietta did not speak the young girl’s name, nor did she indicate what the threat to her ruination was or how such would come about. Only that her marrying you would bring it on.”

  “As you are close with Lady Henrietta, I am certain you are aware that it was I who proposed and then reneged.”

  “I am.” Her expression hardened but did not judge. A remarkable feat, given he deserved very much to be judged and found lacking.

  “But what possible threat could our marriage—had it taken place—bring to my daughter? And who would carry out such a threat?”

  Lady Glenmor’s dark brow lifted in a questioning arch. “Can you think of no one who has made it their mission to ruin any happiness Lady Henrietta might seek? Anyone who might find her becoming your marchioness and future duchess an uncomfortable situation?”

  His stomach roiled and acid burned through his veins. “Susan.”

  The name came out of him with vile certainty. Had she not already threatened to ruin little Margaret should he marry Hen? And while he did not doubt his sister’s intent to wish Hen harm, he did not truly believe she would go through with ruining Margaret. Had he been wrong?

  “That is my best guess,” Lady Glenmor said. “How your sister plans on achieving this I cannot say, nor do I care to speculate. But suffice it to say Lady Henrietta believes it is a threat she will carry out and is determined to do what she feels she must to prevent this.”

  “But as we are not marrying, why the need to leave London for Italy to ensure Margaret’s safety?”

  “Lord Rothbury, Lady Henrietta has revealed to me that your sister blames her for Lord Pengrin’s death and is determined to have her revenge. She has sworn a promise to ruin her before the Season ends.”

  “But that’s absurd! The man brought about his own demise by his evil ways.”

  Alex received another arched eyebrow. “As I am well aware, if you’ll recall.”

  He was immediately chagrined. Of course she did. Pengrin may have broken Hen’s heart, but he had nearly killed Lady Glenmor and her husband. “Forgive me. Of course.”

  “While your sister’s threats lack imagination, they are on point. The only perceived value an unmarried woman has is her reputation. Without such, her life and her future are all but forfeit, diminished to such a degree it leaves few options, none of which are very palatable.”

  “I shall speak to my sister,” Alex said.

  “You must do more than speak to her, my lord,” Lady Glenmor said, standing.

  Alex came to his feet. “What would you have me do?”

  The steel Hen claimed comprised Lady Glenmor’s backbone found its way to her voice. “You must stop her by whatever means necessary. Then you must attend my dinner party tomorrow evening and let Lady Henrietta know the threat to her and Lady Margaret has been eliminated. You owe her that much, do you not?”

  There was only one answer to that question. “Yes, my lady. I owe her that much.”

  And so much more beyond.

  * * *

  “Forgive me. I had hoped not to have to bring this matter to you.” Alex exhaled a long, wearied breath. He had wracked his brain from the moment Lady Glenmor had left his receiving room until well past dinner and though he had come up with several scenarios to neutralize his sister’s threats, none could be enacted without his father’s approval. He was the duke after all, and in the end, his word on the subject would become law.

  His father shook his head, anger burning in his bright blue eyes. “No. You were right to do so. I cannot believe she has taken matters this far. Why did you keep this from me?” He directed his question to Alex’s stepmother, who sat on the couch worrying her hands until Alex feared she’d wear the skin right off them.

  “I did not want to upset you. I had hoped to deal with it on my own. I spoke with her, warned her repeatedly, but nothing I did kept her from this path. As her mother, I love her, I do, and I’d hoped desperately for her to see the error of her ways and become a better person, but—” Laura’s voice caught and a sob choked out. “I thought if we could find her a husband she would focus her mind on marriage and stop harassing the other ladies she viewed as threats, but her behavior has turned away every gentleman who may have otherwise expressed an interest.”

  “Save for one,” his father added.

  Alex was not surprised all attempts to convince someone to marry Susan had fallen on deaf ears. Her vile nature had grown to such a point it could no longer be kept under wraps. That one gentleman remained willing astonished him.

  “What desperate soul is still willing to take her on?”

  Laura sat up straighter. “Edmund, no! I thought we discussed this.”

  His father remained firm. “Do you see another alternative?”

  “Who is it?”

  “Lord Tarrington,” his father answered, his lack of enthusiasm over the match duly noted.

  “Tarrington?” Alex wasn’t sure he’d heard right. “But he is an old man!”

  “He is two and sixty, only a couple of years older than I,” his father reminded him.

  “Truly? I thought him much older. He seems rather decrepit. Unlike you,” Alex amended with an apologetic smile. His father’s health had improved steadily over the past month and the robust man Alex was accustomed to seeing had begun to reappear, bit by bit.

  “Yes, well. Either way, Tarrington has been on the hunt for a wife for the past two years. He’s outlived his first two wives, both unions that did not produce any offspring. He needs an heir and is desperate to find a family willing to marry off their young daughter to an old codger.”

  Laura glanced over at him. “The Dowager Countess of Glenmor had attempted at one time to make a match between Lord Tarrington and her niece, Lady Blackbourne, but the young lady escaped such a fate when Lord Blackbourne declared for her. He’s a rather unpleasant man. Loves his pl
ants far more than he does people.”

  Alex’s father leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees. “Laura, I think the time has come that we face facts. Susan’s behavior has turned her mind. She has set upon a destructive path and the only way to stop her is to remove her from it.”

  “But, Edmund, Tarrington loathes London. He comes only for a month each Season and only to find a wife. He spends the rest of his days in the country. If Susan marries him, she will rarely see London again. We will never see her!”

  “We can visit. And perhaps, over time, she will relinquish her need to cause others pain and suffering. If so, then we shall invite her to stay with us for visits, of course. But for the interim, I think it best if we arrange a hasty marriage and remove her from London before she ruins any hope our innocent granddaughter has at a good and proper life with her vile lies.”

  Except they weren’t lies. They were truths. And that made them even deadlier and more destructive.

  It was a drastic measure, but given the corner Susan had boxed them into with her threats, Alex could see no other way. Yet, surprisingly, it bothered him to see Laura so upset over the situation. He knew how he had felt when the Lord and Lady Ottley had threatened to take Margaret away from him. Despite his emotional estrangement from his daughter, the idea of losing her, of having her taken away, was more than he could bear. He supposed in that regard, he understood how Laura felt, even if she understood it was for the best. Still, he would prefer if she were in agreement on the course of action they were to take.

  Alex looked over at his stepmother but she avoided his gaze. “Laura?”

  Staring down at her hands, she answered with a small, almost imperceptible nod. “Make the arrangements with Lord Tarrington. And do so with all due haste.”

  * * *

  Hen glanced in the mirror. Once again, Lydia had outdone herself, piling Hen’s thick tresses onto the top of her head and letting several thin tendrils dangle downward to tickle her neck and shoulders. The light blue dress had been shot through with silver thread and pearly beads had been sewn into the bodice. The sleeves stopped short at her shoulder, exposing the full length of her arms save for what her silk gloves covered just beyond her elbows. Many of her scars were on full display, and while a part of her still recoiled at the thought of showing them off in public, she refused to cover herself.

  These scars were her history. She would not be ashamed of them. She would no longer hide away. If she was to leave London and start a new life in Italy, she must be brave. And bravery took all shapes and forms.

  A soft knock pulled her attention away from the looking glass on her vanity. “Come in.”

  James opened the door and hovered in the space left in its wake. He had been overly solicitous of her since Alex’s rejection, revealing that he had known, somehow, that Alex had proposed to her only to rethink his actions and change his mind. What would this do to their friendship? As much as Alex’s actions had hurt her, she loathed the thought of James suffering from it as well. Perhaps after she left, the two men would be able to make amends.

  “We should leave if we are to make the dinner in a timely manner.”

  Hen smiled. James had a habit of being punctual. Apparently, he had never heard of showing up late and making an entrance. “I am ready. Have you checked in on Auntie?” Lady Dalridge had come down with a headache earlier in the day and had begged off tonight’s dinner, insisting she would need to be in top form if she was to take part in Hen’s ridiculous plan to visit Italy.

  Visit. As if she planned on someday returning. She didn’t. Once the babe was born, that would be an impossibility.

  “She is feeling better, but has determined it better if she remain abed for this evening.”

  The sadness evident in James’s voice cut through Hen. How she hated the idea of leaving him behind, of taking Auntie with her so that he had no family left. For years, he had been her constant. Her champion and her friend. A brother beyond compare. The thought of not seeing him for long stretches of time, of not having him in her child’s life, broke what was left of her heart. But what other choice did she have?

  Staying put too many people at risk. Margaret. The baby. Herself. Lady Susan had created a no-win situation for Hen and she would not fight a battle that would leave too many wounded on the field.

  She wrapped her shawl over her shoulders and walked to James, taking his arm. “Shall we go, then?”

  “One last dinner party?”

  She smiled and filled it with as much warmth and love as she could. “One last dinner party.”

  Despite leaving in a timely fashion and the fact Henry House, renamed after Lord Glenmor’s late uncle, was only a short carriage ride up the street, she and James were the last to arrive. Already in attendance, in addition to their hosts, were Lord Glenmor’s sister and her husband, Lord and Lady Blackbourne, Lord and Lady Huntsleigh, Lord Blackbourne’s younger sister, Lady Rebecca and her husband, the esteemed and somewhat mysterious Mr. Bowen, and last but not least, Hen’s dear friend, Madalene with her new husband, the somewhat reformed Lord Hawksmoor.

  Behind her, there was a sudden flurry of activity, filled with a hint of female laughter and a boisterous laugh Hen would recognize anywhere. She turned to find Charlie and Patience Elmsley rushing into the receiving room.

  “Are we late? Oh dear, we are! We had hoped to arrive before you,” Patience said, landing a kiss on both of Hen’s cheeks then thrusting a hand toward James. He lifted a dark eyebrow and smirked, executing a proper bow over her hand.

  “Good evening, old chap!” Charlie smacked a hand against James’s back after he stood. Though the two were not necessarily close, Charlie had a way of treating everyone as a good friend. “Well, I dare say, this is quite the gathering, is it not? Tell me, are we all to convince Lady Henrietta she simply cannot leave us?”

  Lady Glenmor stepped forward and greeted her new guests. “I think perhaps we must accept that she has made up her mind to see the world and wish her well, provided she promises to write us regularly and regale us with tales of all she sees.”

  Hen smiled. “I believe that is a promise I can keep.” Save for certain pertinent details such as giving birth to a child out of wedlock. That part she would keep to herself and eventually, her letters would become less frequent until she drifted out of their minds, becoming nothing more than a fond memory of someone they used to know. Save for Judith, who knew the truth and eventually James, though she planned on waiting until the actual birth of her child before giving him the news. Any sooner and she risked him marching Alex all the way from London to Italy to see them married before the child was born. And that rather defeated the purpose of all of this, didn’t it?

  The evening passed in a comfortable manner. The gentleman who had traveled to Italy spoke of all the things she simply must see while there and all the places a proper lady should avoid. Lord Huntsleigh regaled her with tales of his own exploits, some a bit more ribald than her brother thought proper, given he tried to hush the earl while covering her ears, but as that only resulted in much laughter from the others, he eventually gave up.

  Oh, how Hen would miss these people! How she would miss their presence in her life and the chance for her child to grow up with their children and become part of the next generation, surrounded by trusted friends who became like family and family who built a strong foundation that could not be shaken no matter what hardship might befall them.

  But she could not dwell on such. If she did, she risked her throat becoming so constricted with unshed tears that no words would come out. As it was, her heart was filled to bursting and yet empty and broken at the same time. How was such a thing possible? She did not know. But it was. For as much love as this group of friends and family filled her with, the emptiness of Alex’s defection remained. The contrast between the two states only made the pain of leaving all the greater.

  “The Duke of Franklyn and the Marquess of Rothbury!” Titus, the butler who had presided over
Henry House for two generations, bellowed the names of the new arrivals out into the receiving room.

  Even as the names came clear and direct over the hum of conversation and laughter, Hen was certain she had heard wrong. This was to be her farewell dinner. Surely, Judith would not have invited Alex knowing her situation! But as she turned around and her heart stumbled over itself as it did whenever she saw him, her hope that it had been nothing more than an error, withered and died.

  “Lord Franklyn! Lord Rothbury! How wonderful you could come.” Judith breezed past Hen, not looking at her as she greeted her new guests. “I was not certain you would be able to join us.”

  Alex executed a sharp bow. “Indeed, Lady Glenmor, I was unsure myself as there was a matter I had to attend to first.”

  “And have you? Attended to this matter?” Judith’s voice was firm, uncompromising. A fissure of concern tripped up Hen’s spine. What matter? What were they talking about?

  “Fully and completely.”

  Judith smiled. “How wonderful. And Lady Franklyn? Will she be joining us?”

  “Unfortunately, no,” Lord Franklyn said, joining the conversation. “She and our daughter, Lady Susan, are traveling farther north with her betrothed.”

  “Her betrothed? Susan’s?” James’s eyes widened in surprise, but no more so than Hen’s. Who in their right mind would agree to marry a woman so vile?

  Lord Franklyn cleared his throat and answered James. “Yes, it was a rather sudden come about, but we decided to not delay the event. A special license was procured and I shall leave London to join them tomorrow.”

  “And who is the lucky fellow?” Lord Hawksmoor asked, though even he could not disguise the small stumble over the descriptor.

  “Lord Tarrington,” Alex said, his gaze finding Hen’s. “They are to be married at his estate within a fortnight and shall remain there for the duration of the Season.”

  “Lord Tarrington? Oh, dear lord.” Lady Blackbourne’s horror could not be disguised and only Charlie’s jovial nature managed to save the awkward moment.