The Scoundrel Who Loved Me

by Laura Landon

  He looked forward to the day he could leave Radburn Manor. Not because he felt unwelcome in his neighbor’s home, or because he thought they’d overstayed their welcome, but because every minute he was beneath its roof, he wanted to go to Cleo’s room and talk to her. He wanted to be with her and hold her hand. And kiss her once more and tell her he loved her.

  Staying out of her sight had been a torture of the worst kind. Showing her that there could no longer be a connection between them was a constant torment. The sooner they were no longer beneath the same roof, the less his heart would ache. At least he prayed that was so. Because the anguish he’d suffered since she’d regained her sight and he’d walked out of her life was almost his undoing.

  The carpenters shifted the window into place, then secured it. When they were finished, the foreman in charge announced it was time to break for lunch.

  Thomas followed the men from the room. When he reached the foyer, he told a servant to have Cook prepare a tray and send it to his study. He would eat there rather than having the staff set the table in the dining room.

  He entered the study and poured himself a glass of brandy. His legs and back had improved over the past month and he rarely needed a drink to help with the pain. At least not the physical pain from his burns. But he still needed liquor’s effect to dull the pain in his chest. The pain caused by knowing he’d lost the love of his life.

  Thomas sat behind his desk and opened the estate ledgers. He’d been trained to run the estate, so keeping the books came naturally to him. He’d only worked a little while before there was a knock. The door opened when he called out.

  “Just place the tray on the desk here,” he ordered without lifting his gaze.

  When the servant set the tray down, but remained, Thomas lifted his head to ask what more was needed. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words would come out when his gaze locked with Cleo’s.

  His heart raced in his chest. He’d always thought of her as beautiful, but today, standing before him in an elegant peach and yellow striped gown, she crafted beauty a new definition.

  Looking at her now made him want to walk around the desk and take her in his arms. He lowered his gaze to her full lips and wanted to kiss her. But none of that was possible. Never again.

  “My lady,” he said rising to his feet.

  “Good day, Thomas,” she said. “Polly said you’re almost finished with the remodeling and will be able to move back in soon.”

  “Yes. It won’t be long now.”

  Her voice hadn’t changed since the last time he’d heard her speak, which was only last night in his dreams. The soft sound wrapped around his heart and held it.

  “Please, have a seat.” He came around the desk and brought a chair closer. When she was seated, he took his place behind the desk again. He turned his chair so he sat at an angle. He wanted to keep his scarred cheek turned from her.

  “Don’t,” she said as an entreaty. “Don’t turn away from me.”

  Thomas hesitated, then shifted the position of his chair so he faced her directly.

  Very well, let her see him. Let her get an unobstructed view of his disfigured face. Perhaps it was necessary for her to see his grotesque features so she would realize how the rest of society would see him.

  “What brings you here?” he said, lifting his glass and taking a sip.

  “I’d like to talk. Don’t you think you owe me that much?”

  Her words struck him as painfully as she meant them to. Her pain-filled expression affected him more than he wanted to admit. Why had she come? Couldn’t she simply accept the decision he’d made to sever their relationship? Why did she want to put herself—and him—through this?

  “I was hoping that you would realize that it was impossible for any feelings we thought we felt for each other to develop further.”

  “Are you saying that you were lying when you told me you loved me?”

  Thomas suffered a painful punch to his gut. He wanted to tell her he had been, but he couldn’t. She deserved his honesty. “You know I wasn’t. I’ve loved you from the first day we met. I loved everything about you—your courage and bravery, your intelligence, your honesty and openness. I loved what you harbored inside your heart. Your kindness, and thoughtfulness. I loved the manner in which you greeted Polly, and made her feel special after she’d lost so much. But most of all, I loved you for how you made me feel.”

  Thomas bolted from his chair and stood with his back to her. “There. Are you satisfied? Are you happy to know that releasing you from any emotion we thought we shared will haunt me for the rest of my life? Are you pleased to know that I will miss you every day? More every day than the day before?”

  “If you love me as you say you do, then don’t give me up,” she said. “I’m not sure I can survive without your love.”

  Thomas braced his outstretched arms against the window frame. “You have to, Cleo,” he said. “You have to,” he whispered again. “There’s no place for me in your world. Call it pride if you must, but I can’t imagine facing Society looking as I do. I’m not brave enough to walk through the throngs and have them turn their backs on me. I’m not… I’m not…”

  Thomas lowered his head between his outstretched arms. He fought to keep alive a heart he was certain was dying. He struggled to survive his greatest loss.

  “You would give me up because of your scars?”

  Thomas heard the emotion in her voice, the pain, the anguish, and the despair. He turned to face her. “I would spare you a lifetime of embarrassment because of a foolish mistake you made in your youth by loving me.”

  Thomas watched as one tear after another ran down her cheeks. He knew she hurt as much as he did. But he couldn’t give in now. He’d gone too far to yield to his emotions. He was sure that the decision he’d made was the right one. He couldn’t allow Cleo to give up the life she was destined to lead.

  He was certain that once she returned to London, she would meet a man who wasn’t horribly scarred. A man she would be proud to be seen with. But he wasn’t that man. He would never be that man.

  “Is there nothing I can say to make you change your mind, Thomas?”

  With his eyes shut tight he shook his head.

  “Will you at least think of me and wonder how I’m doing?” She swallowed hard. “Will you reconsider your decision in say… six months’ time? And if your heart cannot go on beating without me at your side as I’m sure mine will not be able to, will you somehow find the courage to face your worst fears and come to me?”

  Thomas knew he was safe in his answer. There was no doubt that in six months she would meet someone to whom she would be able to give her heart. “If in six months, at the end of the Season, you are not enamored of the perfect man, I will consider coming to you.”

  “Then I will live for that day,” Cleo said.

  “Do not wait for me, my lady. I can promise nothing.”

  “If I cannot hope that you will change your mind, Thomas, what is there to look forward to?”

  Thomas’s heart shattered in his chest as the love of his life turned her back on him and walked away.

  He sank into the chair behind his desk and tried to put her face to memory. For that is all he would ever have of her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Somehow, Cleo had survived the past six months. She’d attended every ball and musicale and soiree to which she’d been invited. As if she’d had a choice.

  Her parents had insisted that she take her place in Society. Because of the accident that took her sight, she’d missed an entire Season. They wanted her to be as available as possible. Cleo’s mother was certain that she would be one of the most sought-after debutantes of the Season. And she was.

  Her dance card was filled at every event, and the list of handsome gentlemen who vied for her attention was practically unprecedented. Her mother’s receiving room was crowded every Tuesday and Thursday, since those were the only days she would receive guests and suitors. And
Cleo accepted more invitations than she could count for picnics and drives through Hyde Park.

  She should be ecstatic over the attention she received. Instead, when she was alone in her room her tears flowed without end.

  Cleo knew her parents were pushing her in the hope that she would meet another young gentleman who would sweep her off her feet and she would forget about Thomas.

  It wasn’t that they didn’t approve of him, or that his scarred features bothered them. It was for her own good that they encouraged her to meet other eligible gentlemen. They were convinced that Thomas would never re-enter Society and Cleo would be left on the shelf until she was past the marrying age. They were afraid she would be a spinster, alone and at the mercy of her four brothers. And so they accepted as many invitations on her behalf as were possible.

  She tried to be impressed with the admirable qualities of the suitors who vied for her attention, but none of them compared to Thomas’s warmth and openness. None of them paralleled his goodness and compassion. None of them made her feel the way Thomas did whenever he held her.

  Cleo sat before her dressing room mirror while Mary made the final touches to her hair. Tonight was the final ball of the Season. A ball her mother was hosting. A ball that Cleo prayed Thomas would attend. She’d sent him an invitation in hopes that he’d come.

  There was a rap on the door and Cleo’s mother entered.

  “You look beautiful,” her mother commented when Mary finished and left the room. “You are going to be the belle of tonight’s ball.”

  “I’m sure I will be only one of many belles, Mother. You are, after all, a small bit prejudiced.”

  “I may be prejudiced, but I recognize beauty when I see it.” Cleo’s mother moved to the settee and patted the cushion next to her. “Come sit with me, Cleora.”

  Cleo moved to the settee. When she was seated, her mother reached for her hand and held it.

  “I know why you insisted that we host a final ball of the Season,” she said, giving Cleo’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Just as I know that you sent Lord Renfrew an invitation.”

  Cleo pulled her hand from her mother’s grasp. “If you’ve come to tell me not to get my hopes up that Thomas will come, you can spare your efforts, Mother. I’ve already told myself that he more than likely will not come. I’ve waited for him to attend every function all Season and he hasn’t. I know it’s possible that he won’t attend tonight’s affair either. It would take an unfathomable kind of courage. I know that.”

  Cleo rose to her feet and walked across the room. When she reached the window that looked out onto the garden below, she turned. “But I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t give him one last chance to prove that he loves me.”

  “Don’t you see, sweetheart, he may not intend to come. By his absence, he is allowing you to go on with your life. He is giving you the opportunity to find someone who can give you the kind of life you deserve.”

  “What if Father had given you that choice, Mother? What if he had left you so that you could choose someone else to marry?”

  “Your father would never have done that, Cleora. We loved each other too much. We both knew there wasn’t anyone else we could have been happy wi—”

  Her mother stopped without finishing her sentence and clasped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”

  Cleo tried to keep tears from filling her eyes but it was impossible. “I love Thomas, Mother. And he loves me. I know he does. But he thinks Society will reject me because I love someone so flawed.”

  Cleo wiped at the tears that spilled from her eyes. “Would Father be unacceptable to you if he had been injured in a fire and his face was scarred?”

  Her mother slowly shook her head. “No. A scarred face wouldn’t have made me love him any less.”

  “Thomas truly believes he’s doing what is best for me, but he isn’t. I will never give up on him. He possesses my heart, and in time he will realize I can’t live my life without him.”

  Her mother rose, then gathered Cleo in her arms. “Then let’s join your father,” she said when they separated. “Perhaps tonight is the night your prince will appear.”

  Cleo walked to the ballroom to await her prince even though a barrage of doubts assaulted her. What if he didn’t come? What if he wasn’t brave enough to slay the dragons that terrified him?

  Cleo prayed more fervently than she’d ever prayed that Thomas would find the courage to face the ton. But more than that, she prayed that he loved her enough to face his greatest fear.

  . . .

  The last of the guests had arrived nearly an hour ago, and Thomas had yet to appear. Cleo’s neck ached from looking to the top of the stairs so often. It was obvious to everyone that she was waiting for someone, and speculation ran rampant through the ballroom as to whom she was expecting.

  “You knew there was a possibility that he wouldn’t appear,” her mother said from beside her.

  Cleo feigned a smile but knew she failed. “I know Mama, but I had so hoped.”

  “It will be all right.” Her mother placed a reassuring hand on Cleo’s arm, and that small, sympathetic gesture was almost Cleo’s undoing. She had so hoped that Thomas would realize how much she loved him and feel the same. She’d so hoped that he would be brave enough to face the ton. But…

  “Would it be terribly rude if I left early, Mama? You can tell anyone who asks that I wasn’t feeling well and went to lie down for a while.”

  Her mother squeezed her fingers, then nodded.

  Cleo tried to keep the tears at bay until she’d escaped the ballroom. She took one step through the crowd, then another, then looked up when the tears she couldn’t stop spilling from her eyes blurred her path.

  She blinked, and through the blurry wetness she saw him.

  Cleo stopped. At first she thought he wasn’t really there, that she was imagining him. But she blinked, and when she opened her eyes he was still there.

  She smiled, then took a step toward him.

  Thomas took one step down, then another, and another.

  She wanted to be there when he reached the last step. She didn’t want him to be without her at his side for even one second.

  When he was almost on the bottom step, she ran toward him with her arms outstretched.

  “You came,” she said when he took her hands in his.

  “You’ve been crying,” he said, looking into her eyes.

  “Because I thought you wouldn’t come.”

  “You wanted me here that badly?”

  “More than I’ve wanted anything in my life. I can’t live without you, Thomas.” Their gazes locked and she smiled. “Is everyone staring at us?”

  “Yes,” he grinned, looking over her shoulder.

  “Good. Then I think we should give them something to talk about. Kiss me, Thomas.”

  His smile broadened. “You know what will happen if I do, don’t you?”

  “Of course. With this many witnesses, they’ll declare you a scoundrel and I’ll be well and properly compromised.”

  “And we’ll have to marry,” he said with a glimmer in his eyes.

  “No doubt very soon.”

  “Yes, very.”

  “That’s good,” Cleo said as her heart swelled in her breast. “Because I don’t think I can survive even one day without you.”

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  “Not half as much as I love you,” she answered, then stood on her tiptoes when Thomas lowered his head.

  The gasps of surprise from behind them echoed in Cleo’s ears. She preferred to think of the sound as a cheering chorus of well-wishers instead of Society’s shock.

  “Thank you,” she said when Thomas broke their kiss. “You will always be my scoundrel prince.”

  “And I thank you, for not showing this scoundrel the door.”

  He winked and kissed her again. “And for saving me from making the biggest mistake of my life.”

  He stepped away but held her h
and before him as he fashioned a regal bow.

  “And for this.”

  He kissed her hand, and as the music struck up once again, he swept her into his arms and twirled her onto the dance floor. They swept past dowagers and dames and not a one of them could take their eyes from the couple. And not a one of them had ought but a joyous smile on their face.

  As did Cleo.

  As did Thomas.

  As they danced away from their flawed past and into the night.

  Laura lives in the Midwest, surrounded by her family and friends. She has written more than two dozen Victorian historicals, nineteen of which have been published by Prairie Muse Publishing, six by Kindle Press, and six by Montlake Romance. They sell worldwide in English, Japanese, and German. Two are Scottish historicals.

  Always beautifully set and with a mysterious twist or bit of suspense, Laura’s books average over a million pages a month read by her loyal readers.

  Visit Laura’s Amazon Author Page

  Visit Laura’s website

  Also by Laura Landon:

  Victorian Historical Romances

  Intimate Deception

  Intimate Surrender

  A Risk Worth Taking

  Silent Revenge

  Betrayed by Your Kiss

  A Matter of Choice

  The Secret Rose

  Shattered Dreams

  Broken Promise

  More Than Willing

  The Devil’s Gift

  Ransomed Jewels Series

  Ransomed Jewels, Book 1

  Jaded Moon, Book 2

  Dark Ruby, Book 3

  Deception in Emeralds, Book 4

  A Scoundrel at Heart, Book 5

  (in boxed set The Scoundrel Who Loved Her) 2017

  Cast in Scandal Series

  Cast in Shadows (Gideon)

  Cast in Ruin (Benjamin)

  Cast in Ice (Winifred)

  Cast in Scandal (the Duke) novella

  The Redeemed Series