A Hint of Scandal

by Rhonda Woodward

  She knew she could not leave the party for very long. It would be a terrible breach of all that was proper. But she was afraid that if she did not have a few moments to think, she would go mad.

  Opening her eyes, she looked out of the window. Below, she saw Tommy, Henry, and the three Edgeton girls chasing each other across the smooth green lawn in the middle of the garden. She observed dozens of other guests enjoying the unexpectedly fine afternoon. The distant strains of a lilting melody reached her as she lay quietly in her room.

  Her thoughts again, seemingly for the thousandth time in the last few hours, went to Westlake.

  As she had gotten to know him a little over the last few months, it seemed to her that there were two very distinct sides to him: the confident, almost aloof side that he showed in public, and the gentler, though equally confident side he reserved for in private.

  The public duke could intimidate her with a glance. The private Westlake, the one who had just given Tommy the horse, stirred the soul of her emotions.

  Suddenly she was pulled from her thoughts as her bedchamber door burst open. Bella turned her head to see Triss rushing in.

  “Oh, good, I found you! Bella, I must speak with you!” she gushed.

  Bella swung her legs to the floor and sat up, noticing that Triss held a small wooden box in her hands.

  “Triss, dear, I really cannot have a coze with you right now. We can discuss the wedding later,” Bella told her cousin.

  “I do not wish to speak of the wedding,” Triss replied.

  Halting in the process of rising, Bella raised both brows and sat back down.

  “You don’t?” she asked in disbelief. “Well, then, I do not have time to discuss the eligible titles that are downstairs.”

  “I do not wish to speak about that either, Bella,” Triss said with asperity. “I wish to give you something, but first I must tell you the most amazing on dit. I have just had it from Louisa, who has it from Malverton, who has it from Sir John Mayhew, who was…”

  “Triss! You are making my head spin. What are you rattling about?” Bella interrupted.

  “Will you please just listen?” Triss demanded.

  “Oh, go on,” Bella said.

  “Westlake challenged Robert Fortiscue to a duel!”

  Bella jumped up from the chaise and stared at her cousin with wide eyes. “A duel? What on earth are you saying?”

  “Westlake confronted Robert at some gambling den. He told Robert that his neckcloth was rude, and that unless he took himself off to the country, Westlake was going to shoot him at dawn.”

  Bella stared at Triss in disbelief, finding her cousin’s words almost incomprehensible.

  “Is it not too delicious?” Triss continued. “Louisa said that Malverton said that Mayhew said that Robert was practically whimpering by the time the duke was done with him.”

  Bella felt completely stunned. Slowly she returned to the chaise and sat down. “But why would Westlake do such a thing?” Her voice was almost a whisper.

  “Because of you, silly,” Triss said, moving across the room to stand next to Bella. “Louisa said that Malverton told her that even though gentlemen never discuss the real reason a challenge is made, it is most always a matter of personal honor. After the way Robert was so nasty to you at Almack’s, it is no wonder that Westlake sent him off to rusticate.”

  Bella put her hands to her head. She remembered that Westlake had seemed to dismiss Robert when they had spoken of him before their kiss. What could this mean? Her mind cast about for an answer. But she wanted answers to many things regarding her strange relationship with Westlake.

  “You must try to get Westlake to tell you about it. I would so love to hear all of the details,” Triss said.

  Bella made no comment to this and only lowered her hands to her lap. “We have been away from the party too long.”

  “Yes, but before we return I wanted to give you something,” Triss told her.

  Bella glanced up in curiosity at the uncertain tone in her cousin’s voice.

  Triss handed Bella the small wooden box she had been holding. Bella accepted it from her and set it in her lap. Opening the lid, she saw what appeared to be a bunch of dried flowers and greenery tied together with an ivory silk ribbon.

  “What is this?” Bella asked after a moment.

  “They are from your wedding, Bella. After the ceremony I went back, pulled some of the ivy and roses from the chancel rail, and dried them. I have been waiting for the right time to give them to you.”

  Bella’s brows came together in confusion. “I thought it was very kind of Aunt Elizabeth to have placed flowers in the church, but you needn’t have done this, Triss,” Bella stated softly.

  “Mother?” Triss questioned. “Mother did not provide them. Westlake made arrangements to have the chancel rail draped in flowers.”

  Bella’s head snapped up. “Are you sure it was Westlake?” she asked, her voice almost a whisper.

  “Of course. It has seemed to me that of late you and the duke are in more accord. So I thought now would be a nice time to give you the flowers,” Triss explained.

  Bella stared down at the flowers for some moments, her heart very full. “Oh, Triss! How will I ever know what really could have happened? How can he ever forget that Papa and Uncle David demanded that he marry me?”

  Triss knelt down next to Bella and placed her arms around her cousin. “I am so sorry that I am the cause of all this pain, dearest Bella. But it is clear to me that you and Westlake at least respect each other.”

  “Somehow that is not enough.”

  Triss pulled back and looked at her cousin keenly. “But Bella, respect was enough when you had planned to marry Robert Fortiscue. You made no pretense about feeling anything other than respect for him.”

  “Please do not remind me how foolish I was concerning Robert Fortiscue,” Bella said with a pained smile.

  Triss looked at Bella in silence for a long moment. “Arabella! Do you know what your problem is?” Triss demanded.

  “I am sure that you are about to tell me whether I want to know or not,” Bella replied dryly.

  “You are refusing to be truthful with yourself. That is very unlike you.”

  Bella almost laughed aloud at this comment. Be truthful with herself? How could she be truthful when she no longer even knew her own mind?

  “Triss, I cannot discuss this any longer,” Bella said, her tone bordering on desperation. “Please leave me to freshen up a bit and I shall join everyone in a few moments.”

  Triss sighed and stood up from the chaise. “All right, Bella.”

  When Triss had reached the door, Bella called to her. “Thank you for saving the flowers, Triss.”

  “You are welcome.” Triss smiled before leaving the room.

  Bella sat on the chaise for a few moments, her thoughts in a confused whirl.

  Suddenly galvanized into action by the intensity of her emotions, Bella jumped up from the chaise and set about tidying her appearance. It was imperative that she speak to Westlake. She left her room and walked quickly to the top of the landing.

  The flowers Triss had saved presented a whole new set of questions. Why had the duke bothered to arrange for flowers at their ceremony? She determined that as soon as she could manage a private word with him, she would ask him. Suddenly the answer to this question in particular was of vital importance to her.

  As she made her way down the first few steps, she mentally cursed the circumstances that had caused this sham marriage. It had prevented the possibility of something real developing between herself and the duke, she thought with deep regret.

  The sound of feet quickly approaching caught her attention. Thinking Triss must have gone to her room to freshen up and was now trying to catch up with her, Bella slowed her steps.

  Turning to look back up at her cousin, Bella suddenly felt a sharp push against her back.

  Catching her breath in shock, Bella grabbed for the balustrade, frantically t
rying to regain her balance. Her left foot missed the next step and her hand missed the handrail. Pitching forward, she felt herself falling. A second later she was tumbling down the wide marble staircase.

  She was aware of the moment when she finally came to a crashing stop halfway down. With a great effort, she lifted her head slightly and saw that her foot was caught between two balusters. In a daze of shock, Bella realized that her foot becoming stuck more than likely saved her life. She marveled at such a miracle.

  Laying her head back down on the cold step, Bella thought it extremely odd that she should be seeing stars.

  Her last thought, before the stars faded to blackness, was that she hoped her fall did not ruin the party.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Slowly Bella’s lashes flickered open. She lay listening for a little while to a rhythmic scratching sound coming from close by.

  Turning slightly, Bella winced at the dull throb emanating from the back of her head. Staying still, she allowed her eyes to wander, and soon realized that the room was unfamiliar. The huge, four-poster bed she now occupied had no canopy, and she noticed that the coverlet over her was made of some deliciously soft material in a dark blue color that bordered on violet.

  Her gaze continued to move around the dim, cool room, taking in the dark wood furnishings by the fireplace. The upholstery was all the same shade of deep blue, with silver accents. On the other side of the room, in front of a tall window with the curtains almost completely drawn, was a desk and chair.

  The duke sat in the chair writing a letter. The scratching of his quill was the cause of the noise that had awakened her. She watched him in silence, her eyes scanning the classical lines of his profile. His aquiline nose and square jaw, with this room as a backdrop, gave him the appearance of a Roman emperor—especially since he was wearing a black robe, she noted.

  Suddenly it was all so very clear and simple. She loved him. Though it had taken her until this moment to fully realize it, she now knew she had loved him almost from the moment he had awakened from his fever.

  She loved the Duke of Westlake! She felt the beat of her heart quicken.

  This realization explained her confusion over the last few months. It explained why she seemed to no longer know if she wanted to laugh or to cry most of the time.

  She had done her best to resist the feelings he evoked in her, but no longer. Now that she had admitted to herself that she loved him, she could not continue to pretend that her heart did not soar every time he looked at her.

  Knowing she loved him made the pain she felt over their forced marriage even worse. For the Duke of Westlake would never have chosen Miss Arabella Tichley as his bride. This thought stung even more, now that she knew she loved him so deeply.

  At that moment he looked up from the desk and turned his gaze to her. In the dim light of the deep blue and silver room, his darkly lashed eyes appeared icy and arresting.

  Laying his quill aside, he rose and came to sit next to her on the bed. “You have given us quite a scare, Arabella,” he said with a gentle smile.

  “I hope I did not ruin Louisa’s reception,” she said in a shy voice, overwhelmed by his unexpected nearness so soon after the realization of her love for him.

  “Not to worry. This day will be the talk of the ton for years to come, and that, of course, delights Louisa.”

  An unbidden smile came to her lips at his gentle quip. “I am not exactly sure what happened. For an instant it felt as if someone pushed me from behind. But that cannot be so,” she stated a moment later, her eyes growing troubled.

  “Unfortunately it is so,” Westlake began, his jaw tightening. “I shall never forgive myself for not being there to protect you from an assault that I should have known would happen. It was Margaret who pushed you.”

  She stared up at him in shock, seeing the anger flashing in his gray-green eyes.

  “Margaret! But why?” She gasped in her astonishment.

  Westlake turned his head away from her for a moment. He then shifted closer to her on the bed. “Are you sure you are strong enough to hear this? You have a worrisome bump on the back of your head. Your ankle is also wrenched rather badly, and I suspect that by tomorrow you will be black and blue all over.”

  “My head does hurt a little. But I really would like to know what happened,” she said as firmly as she could.

  He nodded briefly but said nothing for a moment as he looked down at her with a grim expression. “I shall start from the beginning so that it will all make more sense,” he began. “In February I received a note from the vicar of Tilbourne stating that Henry had had an accident and was near death. I set out immediately for Tilbourne. Two highwaymen accosted my groom and me, and I was shot. This much you obviously know,” he said.

  “Yes, of course,” Bella replied.

  “After I regained consciousness, my mother came to your home. During our conversation she explained that Henry was not seriously hurt. That seemed very odd, so as soon as I was able, I set into motion a very discreet investigation.”

  He paused to look at Bella closely. “Is there anything I can get for you? A glass of water, perhaps?”

  “No. But would you help me sit up?”

  “Of course.”

  Rising, he leaned forward and very gently slipped his arm beneath her shoulder. Bella felt herself tremble at the feel of his strong arm around her, and she inhaled the heady scent of him. Picking up a pillow lying next to her, he placed it behind her back and lowered her down.

  “Better?” he asked, leaning back to look at her.

  “Yes, please continue,” she said, determined to ignore the pain in her head and in her arm.

  Glancing down, she was suddenly aware that she wore nothing but one of her thin lawn nightgowns. A hazy recollection surfaced of her aunt and one of the maids helping her from her clothes. With her left hand, she pulled the bedclothes up to her chin.

  “First, I learned that the vicar had not sent me the note. Then I discovered that Margaret had not been paying the tradesmen in Tilbourne. She is provided with a very generous allowance, so this was curious. I also learned that Margaret was keeping company with a man named Joseph Fitzdowning.”

  “The man on horseback!” Bella interjected in her surprise.

  “Yes, the same. Mr. Fitzdowning had a brother who recently died in an accidental shooting. He died, not coincidentally, around the same time I was shot,” he said with a wry twist to his lips. “Mr. Fitzdowning and his brother were from Derbyshire. That is why I went there shortly after our arrival at Autley. I had people watching Margaret closely. It was reported to me that she was losing large sums of money at cards.”

  Bella did not take her eyes off his face as he continued his story.

  “Margaret planned with the brothers Fitzdowning to murder me. Upon my death, Henry would then inherit the entire estate, which would give Margaret and Mr. Fitzdowning control of the Westlake holdings. Margaret was planning to marry Fitzdowning. But I lived and managed to shoot the brother. With their plan foiled, Margaret and her accomplice had to regroup.”

  Bella could not comprehend such evil and felt shaken to her core that a family member could deliberately arrange for a relative’s murder.

  “I insisted that Margaret and Henry stay in London, where it would be easier to keep an eye on her. Fitzdowning showed up shortly after. They were getting desperate. The fact that I am now married complicated the situation for them. I believe that Margaret saw you going down the stairs and seized the moment. They could not take the chance that you would have a baby and then Henry would no longer be my heir.”

  “That explains Henry’s questioning me when we were all at Autley,” Bella told him, recalling the event.

  “Yes. I have spoken to him. He had overheard his mother saying that she would make sure you did not have a baby,” he explained.

  “What is going to happen now?”

  “Margaret and Fitzdowning will be transported to Australia. Henry will be living
with Alice and Charles. I had discussed this with my sister and brother-in-law before Margaret had made the attempt on your life. They both want him, and think it best for the boy to become a part of their family.”

  “That is good,” Bella said, relieved that Margaret and her accomplice would no longer be able to harm anyone else.

  “I am so sorry that this occurred, Bella. If anything had happened to you—”

  He stopped midsentence, and Bella saw that he seemed to be trying to gain control before he continued.

  “I recall telling you that my family was eccentric. I certainly shall never make that claim again,” she told him, attempting a note of humor.

  He laughed, and she could tell her comment surprised him. He looked at her intently, searching her deep blue eyes until she lowered her gaze.

  “Only you could be so brave, Bella.”

  “Brave? I only fell down the stairs,” she said softly, touched and embarrassed by his praise.

  “I should let you rest,” he said, and made a move to get up from the bed.

  “I really am not at all tired,” she said.

  She saw him raise a brow and resume his place. She watched him a moment, thinking how devastatingly handsome he looked in his black velvet robe.

  “We previously decided that we would wait to discuss our future together until after Louisa’s wedding,” he said in his deep voice.

  Bella’s heart stopped for an instant.

  “I have something important to ask you, Bella,” he continued. “I realize that you are in no condition to answer me now, but I would like you to consider what I am about to say.” He waited until she gave him a hesitant nod to continue. “Over the last few weeks, we have come to know each other a little better. I believe that we have the respect and common interests that you deem essential to a marriage. You know my feelings. Would you consider starting again, and giving our union a chance at success?”

  His words seemed to repeat themselves over and over.