by Kelly Boyce
Though likely, if his debts were severe, he would latch onto a new, unsuspecting victim and leave poor Hen alone. It would break the young woman’s heart, but she would recover. Far better than she would if he married her and discarded her once he had what he needed.
“But I do not wish to wait. I feel as if I have been living in a dark limbo for years and have finally come out into the light. I wish to embrace my future now, not hide from it. And I have you to thank for supporting me in this. If you had not been such a steady and encouraging friend, I could not have begun this journey. You gave me the strength to try, and now look at me!”
Judith forced a smile but the emotion behind it was anything but happy. Instead, it was mired in guilt and dread—and the certainty that if she was responsible for this then it must be she who put an end to it.
Chapter Seventeen
“Lord Pengrin.” Judith called the man’s name from the opposite end of the hallway, catching him as he left the receiving room. He turned on his heel at the sound of her voice and a triumphant smile spread across his handsome face.
At least it would have been handsome if she did not know the fiend that lurked beneath. But once the layers had been peeled back to reveal who he truly was, it was a vision that could not be unseen.
“Ah, Miss Sutherland. Such a vision you present, lurking in the hallway of your employer in your dowdy little dress.” His grin slowly grew and she could not shake the image of a snake about to strike as he slowly sauntered toward her.
The insult bounced off her. His opinion meant nothing now that she saw herself through different eyes. Benedict’s words had wrapped themselves around her like a shield, washing away the stain of insecurity Lord Pengrin’s actions had left in their wake.
“I mean to have a word with you, Lord Pengrin.”
“Is that so?” His voice slithered across the space between them. A space that shrunk with each step he took. She had stopped moving, preferring to be farther away from the receiving room in case Lady Henrietta and Lady Dalridge should overhear. “And what, pray tell, do you have to say to me that I would have any interest in hearing?”
He stopped a few feet from her. Uncomfortably close. Likely, just what he intended. An attempt to intimidate. Despite its effectiveness, she stood her ground.
“I must insist you stop courting Lady Henrietta.” The words came out quick and clipped, before she lost her nerve.
“Stop—” He laughed and even that sound had a twinge of malevolence to it. Like the rattle of a snake before a deadly strike. Her feet itched to run, to take her to safety. She refused their plea. “Well, well. Miss Sutherland, do you still have such tender feelings for me that you cannot stand to see me with another?”
The very idea sickened her. “The only feelings I have for you are loathing, my lord. You are a contemptible individual, incapable of being decent. That is why I wish you away from Lady Henrietta. She is a kind, lovely young woman. I will not stand by and watch you destroy her in order to have want you want.”
He took a step closer. “And what is it you think I want?”
“Money, I suspect. Rumor has it you have a bit of trouble staying away from the gaming tables.” It was not something she should know about, certainly not something a proper lady would speak of, but she had already thrown caution to the wind. What was one more thing?
Pengrin’s expression darkened and fear reared its ugly head. Still she held her ground and continued. “Once you have what you need, I suspect she will see your true nature and wish she’d never set eyes upon you.”
He sneered. “And just what do you think you can do about it? Her family thinks us a suitable match, one they heartily approve of. I can’t imagine the opinion of a lowly servant would change their minds in that regard.”
She tossed aside his slight. What did she care of his opinions? “It might if I tell them what you did to me.”
His face tightened. To anyone else, it might have been imperceptible, but she had been watching for it, looking for telltale signs that revealed the merit of her threat. It did.
He glanced behind him at the receiving room door before turning back to her. His eyes blazed with hatred. She took a step back but he followed her. “You wouldn’t dare. To do so would spell your ruin.”
“It is a risk I am willing to take if it saves her from making the same mistake I did in trusting you to be a gentleman, when in truth you are nothing more than a beast. Lady Henrietta deserves far better than the likes of you and I will do whatever I must to ensure she gets it.”
“You little bitch.” The words bit out of him as he strode swiftly toward her. Judith attempted to evade him, but he grabbed her arms and propelled her backward down the hall. She opened her mouth to scream, but the sound arrested in her throat as he pushed her around a corner and threw her back against the wall. The impact knocked the breath out of her.
His hold on her arm tightened while his other hand grabbed her face, his fingers digging into her jawbone, preventing her from calling out. Terror paralyzed her. He was despicable, but now she understood it went far deeper than that. He was also dangerous. Deadly.
“Let me tell you something,” he said, his face close to hers so that bits of spittle landed on her skin. She twisted her head to release his grip but he held fast. “If you breathe a word of your silly little story, I will destroy you. I will make it look as if you tried to seduce me to improve your situation. A sad little attempt to trap one of your betters.”
“They won’t believe you,” she said, and though the words came out muffled, his smile indicated he’d understood them. A smile that had once charmed her. What a fool she had been!
“Oh, but they will believe me. But let me tell you a story of my own.” He leaned in closer, his lips pressed against her ear. She tried to turn away from his touch, but could not escape it. “You see, I find myself in need of a considerable payment due to those gambling debts you so scandalously referred to. So I will marry that scarred little monster with her oh so generous dowry to get it and you will not interfere. Because if you do, I can assure you the consequences to you will be great and irreversible.”
“There is nothing you can do to me.” If he ruined her, so be it. She would retire to a quiet country life and find contentment in the fact she’d saved Lady Henrietta from a lifetime of misery.
“Oh, but I can.” The words hissed in her ear. “I am not in the habit of leaving loose ends, I assure you. Should you make any attempt to stop me in my pursuit of this marriage, you will find yourself swimming in the Thames, do I make myself quite clear?”
The blood in her veins turned to ice. Something in his voice, in the pressure of his fingertips where they gripped her, told her it was not an idle threat.
He released her then and the sudden removal of his touch made her stumble, her quivering legs threatening to give out. By the time she regained her balance, the only view she had of him was a glimpse as he turned the corner and disappeared from view. But his threat lingered in the air.
No, not a threat. A promise.
He would see her dead and think nothing of it once the deed was done.
* * *
The party played out around Judith, much like the others she had attended over the past several weeks. She tired of them already and the prospect of the upcoming Season did not cheer her as it did Patience, who had finally been given a reprieve from her mother and released from the purgatory she had been cast into after last year’s debacle with Lady Susan.
Judith was happy for her cousin, but her happiness was tempered by yesterday’s events. Lord Pengrin’s threat still echoed in her mind and her jaw ached where he had held it tightly. She had worn long sleeves this evening as well, to cover the imprint of his fingertips where he had bruised her arm with his unyielding grip. She must decide on a course of action, but the fear of what he might do to her had become a greater stumbling block than the idea of revealing her past secrets.
Upon arriving at the party, she sought
out a quiet corner to contemplate what she must do and how best to go about it to avoid further injury. Or worse. The other guests paid her no heed. The lords and ladies of the ton did not go out of their way to converse with her or draw her into their conversations. She was nothing to them. Nobody. An invisible companion that most did not deign to know or acknowledge.
Most, but not all.
“Are you quite well, Miss Sutherland?”
She glanced up into Lord Glenmor’s handsome face and a brief respite chased away her anxieties. She never tired of seeing him. One would think such a feeling would wear off after repetition, but the more she saw him, the more she looked forward to future viewings. Even more so after the kiss they had shared stirred up a bevy of longing and desire she could no longer lock away or deny.
Despite having once considered all members of society to be worthy of her contempt, Lord Glenmor had shown her she could not paint everyone with the same brush. He was nothing like Lord Pengrin. He was not an ogre dressed in deceptive finery who believed himself entitled to take whatever he wanted. Instead, he had shown himself to be a kind man. A warm soul. And a bit of a kindred spirit. That he would remain forever out of her reach, relegated to nothing more but a friend, did not diminish these feelings. It was as if her heart refused to acknowledge the kiss had been but a one-time thing, never to be repeated. Her heart, obstinate organ that it was, continued to leap whenever he smiled at her. Continued to hope, even if it was in vain.
“I am entirely well,” she lied, giving him a small smile. “And you?”
“Well enough.” But something about his answer lacked conviction.
He motioned to the empty seat next to her and she nodded. Once he’d situated himself, he leaned back and stretched out one long, lean leg. She had learned he much preferred to be outside and spent many hours walking and riding when at Sheridan Park or the Glenmor estate, Maple Glen. Even while in London, he would often go for long walks at unfashionable hours to clear his mind. His physique showed his love for physical activity and her fingers itched to reach out and run her hand down the length of his thigh where the muscles strained against his breeches.
Heat flushed her cheeks and she glanced away. This would not do. She must regain control of her emotions where he was concerned. To allow them free rein would only lead to a broken heart. Lord Glenmor had admitted he longed to kiss her, but also that it could never progress beyond that one kiss. Unlike Lord Pengrin, who had promised her a future and then abused her trust and left her humiliated, Lord Glenmor had told her the truth.
“I only ask because as I watched you from across the room—”
He had watched her?
“—it appeared as if you were deep in thought. It occurred to me, if such were the case, you might want someone to talk to about whatever has caused you such dark ruminations.”
She did not. Or rather she did, but she couldn’t. Not about this. The truth would taint his opinion of her; of that, she was certain. If he discovered what she had allowed, what Lord Pengrin had done, likely he would believe that the kiss they had shared was something she did on a regular basis. That it hadn’t been special. She couldn’t bear it. Because it had been special. It had been the most special thing she had ever experienced.
“It is nothing of consequence, my lord.”
“Benedict,” he corrected. “I think we have earned the right to call each other by our given names, have we not? At least in private?”
She smiled. “Very well. Benedict.” The name tasted like warm chocolate melting on her tongue.
“Very good. And I believe you to be a liar, Judith.”
His blunt comment took her by surprise but when she looked up, the warm smile he wore and the way it lit his blue eyes softened his accusation, as did the sound of her name upon his lips. “You do not believe me?”
“I do not. You were fidgeting with your hands,” he said, nodding toward the appendages in question where she held them in her lap. “I have noticed that you twist your fingers about each other when something is bothering you.”
“You have? I do?” She did not know what else to say. His words left her brain in a bit of a muddle.
“I have and yes, you do.” His smile expanded and the twinkle in his eye brightened. Or was that simply the candlelight reflecting in them? Regardless, the effect made her heart trip over itself as if she had imbibed a little too much sherry.
“And just how much time, exactly, do you spend noticing such things?”
He gave a sheepish shrug. “Far too much, I’m afraid.”
She looked away, unable to hold his gaze, though she could still feel it upon her like a soft caress. Oh, how she longed to feel the real thing. Relive the sensation of his fingertips tracing the line of her jaw, the curve of her bottom lip. His mouth pressing against hers. She sighed then caught herself.
“I have shocked you. Forgive me. Perhaps I should have left that unsaid. I forget myself when I am with you.” But he didn’t sound sorry, not really. He sounded…well, he sounded wonderful. She had no doubt that if she looked at him now she would want nothing more than to kiss the words from his lips, breathe them in and let them live inside of her forever.
“You have not shocked me. I am glad you feel you can speak freely with me. It is good to be friends, is it not?”
“Friends.” His smile turned rueful. “And will you tell this friend what it is that troubles you? Perhaps I can help. I’m quite good at solving other people’s dilemmas. It’s always so much easier than tackling your own.”
Something in his expression pulled deep inside of her. Her heart insisted she could trust him, and though her heart had been wrong before, Benedict’s good character had broken through her hesitancy. This time, her trust was not misplaced. His offer to help would stand regardless of what the problem was. It was tempting. She longed to speak of her dilemma, to have him share his insight as to what she should do with respect to protecting Lady Henrietta and keeping her away from Lord Pengrin.
But how did she do so without giving specifics as to the origins of her strong feelings in this regard? To speak of her experiences would no doubt ruin his good opinion of her. Perhaps she could keep it vague, yet give him enough information to allow him to provide his insight into the situation.
“Very well.” She took a fortifying breath and chose her words carefully. “I feel I am at a crossroads of sorts and unsure of which path to take.”
“Ah. And what are the options that have left you so tormented?”
“Whether to help someone at a personal cost to myself, or to leave it be, even though I know to do so would end up causing them great pain in the end.” There. That was all that needed to be said.
“I see. And this person—do you have strong feelings for them?”
“Yes, I have grown quite fond of them.”
“Hm. I see.” Benedict reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his father’s pipe. He rubbed its smooth exterior with his thumb the way another man might rub at their chin when giving a matter serious consideration. The realization made her smile. Perhaps she had been watching him in equal measure. “If you do choose to help this individual, will they welcome such assistance?”
Judith shoulders slumped. “No. At least not initially. But I am hopeful in the long term, they will look back and see the wisdom of it.” She did not want to lose Lady Henrietta’s friendship, nor make her feel as though she had misplaced her trust and been betrayed. Judith understood the pain of such a thing. But what else could she do?
“And what will the cost be to you if you go ahead with this?”
I will see you swimming in the Thames.
Fear rushed up and gripped her throat. She swallowed it back as best she could and glanced down at her hands. He had been correct in his observation. She did twist her fingers about themselves when stressed or worried. “The cost could possibly be great.”
“And would paying such a high cost be worth the outcome?”
He had reached th
e crux of the dilemma, finding the one question she had been unable to answer since Lord Pengrin made his threat. Was she willing to prevent Lady Henrietta from making a grievous mistake at the potential cost of her own life? How badly she wanted to say yes—to act boldly and bravely and stand up to Lord Pengrin and his threats. But she had no wish to die and as much as it shamed her, she could not help but feel a strong sense of self-preservation.
“I do not know.”
“Then perhaps that is the question you need to answer first, before you decide upon your course of action.”
“Yes, you are right, of course.”
His voice softened. “Is it as bad as all that?”
“I fear it might be.” She had come to London to start a new life, now that life teetered on a knife’s edge and no matter which decision she made, she would come away wounded by the sharp blade.
Benedict slipped the pipe back into his pocket and reached out to rest his hand lightly on hers. The scandalous touch rippled in waves up her arm and through her body, creating a deep longing. She cast a nervous look about the room. No one gave them any notice. And why would they? A paid companion and an impoverished lord with a title tainted by its predecessor’s scandal. They were hardly the type to garner the attention of others.
“You know that if you need me, you have only to ask. Whatever trouble you encounter, you may count on my assistance.” He squeezed her hand and her heart threatened to burst through her chest with each powerful beat. “I will be there for you.”
His touch slipped away and it took every ounce of her will not to pull it back. She did not want him to let go. She did not want him to ever let go. But he must and, despite his kind words of comfort, it was for the best that he did.
“Thank you, Lord—” She stopped, smiled. “Benedict.” Oh, but his name sounded glorious on her tongue. “Your kind words and counsel are greatly appreciated.”
“Appreciated enough to dance with me?”
She laughed. “I do not believe there will be dancing tonight, my lord.”
