“Mama,” Spencer said, striding forward with purpose. Looking around, Mary caught sight of the countess, her smile filled with eager excitement as she came toward them. “What is all the fuss about?”
“Oh, I knew that coming here would be the very best decision in the world and Lady Duncaster has just confirmed this. She truly knows how to cater to her guests in every way.” Inhaling a deep breath, Lady Oakland continued with, “Just wait until you hear of the treat that she has planned. You will scarcely be able to believe it!”
“Well? What is it?” Lady Fiona asked. She looked just as eager to discover the surprise as Lady Oakland looked at the prospect of announcing it.
With her arm still linked with Richard’s, Mary leaned a little closer so as not to miss a single word. Admittedly, the buzz of voices swarming through the atrium where they were presently standing, had stirred her curiosity.
A very dramatic pause followed before Lady Oakland casually said, “Do any of you know who Mr. Taylor is?”
A slight shiver crept across Mary’s shoulders. She felt Richard’s arm tighten against her own as she shook her head.
“The manager of the King’s Theatre?” Richard’s sister, Lady Rachel, asked.
“Precisely,” Lady Oakland said as she looked to Lady Rachel. “He has written to Lady Duncaster in response to some interest that he has received regarding none other than Lucia Cavalani.”
Mary felt the ground sink beneath her feet.
“The opera singer?” Sarah put in. “Will she be coming here?”
“Well, that is just it,” Lady Oakland said. “Apparently, Mr. Taylor wishes to know if Thorncliff’s guests would like to enjoy a private concert, in which case, he has promised to ensure Miss Cavalani’s imminent arrival.”
“Breathe.” The whispered reminder was made by Richard as he carefully disentangled himself and Mary from the group and proceeded to lead her back out onto the terrace. Without pausing for even a second, he hastened her down the steps and toward the far right of the garden where the Greek folly stood. At a reasonable distance from all others, nobody was close enough to hear what they said or see their expressions, which Mary felt was just as well since she was certain she looked quite ill.
“Rotridge.” She spoke the word as if it were the missing piece she needed to complete a puzzle. “He wants to humiliate me—to destroy my reputation completely.”
“He will never succeed. Of that I can assure you, Mary.” The fierce determination with which Richard spoke gave Mary hope, even as she saw her downfall in vivid displays of color and detail.
“How?” was all she could ask. “How do you suppose we stop this catastrophe?”
Richard began to pace, the soles of his boots kicking up clumps of grass as he did so, due to frustration. “You can say that you are unwell. That you have a sore throat and cannot perform. Surely that will—”
“Mr. Taylor will not hear of it. Not when most of England’s elite is gathered here at Thorncliff. Good lord! Do have any idea of the sort of earnings he plans to make from my performance? Granted, I receive a large sum too, but Mr. Taylor, the theatre as a whole . . . it would likely secure the salaries for all the other employees for the duration of the coming year!”
“But if Mr. Taylor is unable to find Lucia Cavalani, then how is she to perform in the first place?”
“Therein lies the problem,” Mary told him grimly. “Mr. Taylor knows exactly where to find me. It is part of the agreement that he and I have with each other.” She watched as Richard stopped before her, his face drawn in tight lines as he took her hands between his own. “In fact, I suspect that there is a letter waiting for me in my bedchamber, informing me that Lucia Cavalani is expected to perform at Thorncliff Manor as soon as possible.”
“And if you do not?” Richard asked, his voice grave.
She looked askance, her eyes settling on the slim branch of a tree as it bobbed up and down in the breeze. “Mr. Taylor has always been reasonable with me, but he is also a business man, so I would prefer not to take any chances.”
“You think he might threaten to reveal who you really are just to make you sing?”
Stalwartly, Mary stared back at the man whom she’d come to love, increasingly aware of something dangerous simmering beneath the surface of his seemingly calm façade. His eyes shifted and it struck her then that he was furious. Not so much with her, though she wagered he might be a little angry that she had allowed herself to get into such a muddle in the first place, but rather on her behalf. “There is no telling what a man might do for money.” She spoke softly but with precision. “Is there?”
“You would be a fool not to expect the worst,” he murmured, mirroring her thoughts.
“Precisely.”
He nodded at that and, with a quick glance around, led her to the side of the folly. The grass was slightly taller there. It tickled Mary’s ankles as Richard pulled her into his arms, the palm of his hand pressing comfortably against her back as he simply held her. A long, drawn-out moment passed until she heard him whisper in her ear, “Rotridge means to unveil you.”
“Yes,” she whispered back.
“But what if he does not manage to unveil Lady Mary, but someone else entirely?” Stepping back a little, he nudged her chin just enough for their eyes to meet. “He would lose all credibility and probably embarrass himself in the process too.”
It took a moment for Mary to figure out what Richard was plotting. Once she did, however, she knew that she’d found yet another reason to love him. “That’s a brilliant idea, Richard. And I know exactly who we can turn to for help.” Closing the distance between them once more, she wound her arms around his neck, her chest pressed flat against his. Settling her cheek against his shoulder, she inhaled deeply, allowing the scent of him to travel through her, invigorating her and giving her hope. Whatever happened, she had him. He knew the truth about her and he accepted it, was willing to stand by her and help her fight for it.
Slowly, she allowed one hand to trail down over the front of his jacket while he in turn traced circles along the length of her spine. His touch was gentle, feather light, and oh so very tempting. “I miss this closeness between us,” she said as a hot shiver swam through her.
“Me too.” His hand found her cheek, turning her head and angling it just so . . . The kiss that followed was delicious, filled with the flavor of tea and the chocolate they’d had on the picnic. A sigh of appreciation rose from Mary’s throat and in the next instant she found herself pressed up hard against the cool stone of the folly with Richard standing over her, his eyes slightly hooded and his breath coming fast. For a long moment, he said nothing at all, but then, ever so slowly, he leaned back, adding distance. “Forgive me, Mary, but this is not like the stolen kisses that you and I have shared in the dark. People talk. If someone were to see us . . . Please forgive me.”
It took a second for her dazed self to return to solid ground. Blinking, she looked back at him, saw the self-deprecation in the tight lines of his face and expelled a deep breath. “There is absolutely nothing to forgive. You and I are engaged to be married now and—”
“Even so, I would like to ensure that your reputation remains intact.”
Forcing a smile, she nodded before accepting the arm he offered her so that he could escort her back to the house. They had almost reached the steps leading up to the terrace before he murmured, “Believe me, there is nothing that I look forward to more than our wedding night, Mary. I hope that you are aware of that.”
This time, when she looked up at him, her smile was genuine. “Would it trouble you, Sir, if I were to tell you that I feel precisely the same way?”
The look he gave her was darker now and filled with something secret that Mary didn’t quite understand. Yet somehow, she knew that she desperately wanted to understand. Especially when he said, “Nothing would please me more.” His voice was low, rippling along her nerves and sending frissons down her spine.
Shuddering sl
ightly, she steadied herself against him as they made their way up the steps. “I will write to Mr. Taylor as soon as I return to my bedchamber, informing him that Lucia Cavalani will be happy to perform at Thorncliff.” Reaching the top of the steps, she drew Richard to a halt. “You were right to ask me to tell my aunt about this. The fact that she knows makes this ordeal a little less terrifying, no matter how disappointed she is with me for deceiving her.”
“She will recover and she will forgive you for it.” The smile he gave her was slightly crooked, puckering the skin on his left cheek a little more than usual. “That is what one does when one loves someone as much as she clearly loves you.”
Her chest tightened with affection for him, for how good and kind and honorable he was. Continuing their progress, he led her back inside the house and toward the grand staircase. “She is Papa’s only sibling. The two of them have always been very close so it was natural for her to have a large presence in my life. When Papa accepted the position in India and he and Mama began preparing for their journey, Aunt Eugenia was thrilled with the prospect of sponsoring me for my Seasons and acting as my temporary guardian.”
“When do you expect your parents to return?”
“In another year, according to the most recent letter that I received from Mama.” Her voice hitched a little. “I miss them very much, but the things that they have described to me in their correspondences are truly incredible. There is no doubt that their journey to such a distant location has been a memorable experience for them.”
Inclining his head, he escorted her up the stairs. “I have heard that people ride elephants there.”
Chuckling, Mary nodded. “It is true. Can you imagine? I daresay that must be quite a sight to behold.”
“As are you,” he said, releasing her hand. It cooled with the absence of his touch—a sensation she did not like in the least—but they had reached the first floor landing and she knew as well as he that it was time for them to part.
“You flatter me.”
“Not nearly enough.” A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Write your letter to Mr. Taylor, Mary, and I promise you that everything will be all right in the end.”
After watching Mary disappear around a corner, Richard went in the opposite direction, returning to his own bedchamber shortly after. Once inside and with the door closed, he expelled a deep breath, hoping that he would be right in the assurance he’d given her.
His eyes dropped to the floor where another missive lay, recently delivered while he’d been out. Snatching it up, he tore it open and read the information that his secretary had sent him. As always, it was brief and to the point:
The Earl of Rotridge is a very wealthy man. He does not need to marry for money. Indeed, there is little that he desires. After some investigation, however, I have discovered that there is a property that he would like to acquire since it adjoins his own. The land is presently owned by the Marquess of Richmond, his son being the Earl of Harrodsburg. Curiously, however, the earl will not be inheriting this land since it is not entailed. Instead, the marquess has chosen to will it to his granddaughter, Mary Bourneville.
Setting the letter aside, Richard crossed to the window and looked out, his jaw clenching with anger. Evidently, Rotridge didn’t care about Mary, but to try and blackmail her into marriage so that he could increase the size of his property was unconscionable.
His brother’s discernible knock sounded at the door. “Enter,” Richard said as he crossed to the sideboard and selected two tumblers. Behind him, he heard the door open and close. “Brandy?” he asked.
“Thank you. I would appreciate that,” Spencer said. His footsteps were measured as he went to take a seat in one of the armchairs. “I thought you should know that however unorthodox your courtship with Lady Mary has been, I am happy with your success, even if you did risk ruining her.”
Snorting, Richard turned toward his brother with the two full tumblers in his hands. “You took a similar risk with Sarah, according to what you have told me,” he said as he offered Spencer his drink.
“I will admit that she and I were alone a few times and that I was . . . tempted to take advantage of those situations. But I refrained.”
Hesitating a moment, Richard lowered himself into the opposite chair. “I hope you are not implying that I have taken liberties.”
Spencer studied him for a long drawn out moment while Richard stared straight back at him. If his brother knew about the kisses he’d shared with Mary a lengthy reprimand would surely follow. “You were always popular with the ladies, Richard, but you were never a scoundrel. I have no reason to believe that your conduct with Lady Mary has been anything but gentlemanly.” Tilting his glass in Richard’s direction, he took a sip of his drink.
Richard wouldn’t go so far as to call himself a gentleman where Mary was concerned. His thoughts about her had certainly been of the more scandalous variety. Shifting, he followed his brother’s example and drank. “Then let us refrain from discussing the matter any further.”
“Mama is thrilled,” Spencer added, ignoring Richard’s remark. “So are Papa and the rest of our siblings, by the way. There is no doubt that Lady Mary will make an excellent addition to our family.” He paused for a second before saying, “It must have taken a great deal of courage for you to reveal yourself to her.”
Leaning his head back, Richard looked up at the ceiling while the memory of that important moment when Mary had first laid eyes on his face, passed before his eyes. “You have no idea.”
“You care for her a great deal.”
Lowering his gaze, Richard met Spencer’s. “Of course I do.”
Nodding, Spencer set his glass aside on the table that stood between them. “In that case, I would advise you to be completely honest with her.”
The comment was so unexpected that Richard felt his entire body stiffen in response to it. Frowning, he leaned forward. “What are you saying?”
“That I think there may be more than one reason for your prolonged absence from Society and that your appearance is not entirely to blame.”
Gritting his teeth, Richard felt his pulse rise. “Then you would be wrong, Spencer.”
“And yet, it took only a couple of weeks for you to abandon five years of solitary confinement for the sake of a woman.” Spencer shook his head. “I may not understand why, but I know that there must have been more to it than Lady Mary’s compelling personality to sway such resolve.”
“I love her.”
“Not when you first laid eyes on her. What happened, Richard? What caused you to realize that the life you have always dreamed of could finally be yours? None of my assurances in that regard seemed to have made a difference. Neither did Sarah’s.”
Looking askance, Richard stared into the empty fireplace. His hand tightened around his glass. “Suffice it to say that I recently completed a business transaction that has given me some peace of mind.”
Spencer grunted. “Good. You deserve some peace of mind after all that you have suffered. Still, you ought to tell Lady Mary about it.”
“It is in the past now. I would like for it to remain there so that I may move forward with my life.” For five long years his very existence had depended on getting revenge. He’d finally accomplished that goal and was happy to have found a more positive purpose.
A long moment of silence followed. Eventually Spencer said, “Secrets generally have a way of surfacing, Richard. Just be sure that if you choose to keep this one to yourself, that Lady Mary will not think less of you for it, or worse, be hurt by it if she happens to find out what it is. In my experience, people do eventually discover the things that you would most like to keep from them.”
“Thank you, Spencer,” Richard told him grimly. “I shall endeavor to keep that in mind.” But it was an empty promise. Richard would never be able to tell Mary about the vengeance he’d taken on the man who’d betrayed him. She was too innocent and kind to understand. If she were to discover the trut
h, her opinion of him would undoubtedly be altered, and for what? What did it matter when he had every intention of being the man whom she thought him to be from now on? One thing was certain. He could not possibly risk losing her—not when she was everything that he had ever dreamed of.
Chapter 16
The Thorncliff Terrace, two days later
Seated at the edge of a long row of seats beside Richard, Mary glanced around at the crowd of assembled spectators before returning her attention to the small stage that had been set up in front of them. “Do you see Rotridge anywhere?” she asked as she nervously wafted her fan back and forth.
“Yes,” Richard murmured. “He is sitting on the last row.”
Sucking in a breath, Mary tried to calm her nerves while the orchestra tuned their instruments in preparation for the upcoming performance. She glanced around again. Where was her aunt? She should have been there by now. “This is not going to work,” she heard herself say.
A warm hand settled over hers. “Of course it will,” Richard assured her. “Look, here comes your aunt now. Are you ready?”
Mary shook her head. “No, but what choice do I have?”
She started to pull her hand away from his, but he held on fast. “Rest assured that no matter what happens this evening, I will stand by your side. You have my word on that.”
Feeling a little lighter than before, Mary rose to greet her aunt. “Good evening,” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “I was afraid that you might not make it on time.”
Lady Foxworth chuckled. “And forego a performance by my favorite soprano? I think not, my dear, though I must say that the air this evening is a little bit chillier than I had expected.”
“Would you like your shawl? I would be happy to fetch it for you.”
“Thank you, Mary. I would appreciate that as long as Mr. Heartly has no issue with me keeping his company until you return.”
His Scandalous Kiss: Secrets at Thorncliff Manor: 6 Page 21
