by Abigail Agar
“How dare you,” Gwyn whispered. “While we are talking about shame, I think it is a shame that you should be even remotely deemed a chaperone with the way you choose to conduct yourself, Lord Shelton. For years, I have heard rumours that I prayed were not true, but I can only assume that they were with the way you have treated me so callously.”
Henry frowned as if in puzzlement. He pondered Gwyn and said, “Are you really going to try to help my brother?”
The man’s rapid change of conversation made Gwyn throw her hands up in frustration. “Yes, Henry,” she said losing her formality. Once again they were just children having an argument.
“I should hope so. Try not to run him off to war again, would you?” Henry said with an infuriating smile.
Gwyn balled up her fist and reminded herself that she was a grown woman, and she would not be baited by Henry’s words. Gwyn shook her head at Henry. “I do not know what your mother was thinking when she made you a chaperone. You are not out to help Jack, you are merely out for your own amusement,” Gwyn said as she turned on her heel and walked away from the man towards the south patio.
As Gwyn rounded the corner, she saw Jack with his back to her. He was standing on the edge of the patio leaning against the stone wall. Gwyn stepped softly up the stone steps, so she did not disturb the man. “Jack,” she said quietly.
There was a moment when Gwyn wondered if Jack had heard her before he turned slowly to look at her. “Gwyn,” Jack said as if confused. “What are you doing here?”
“Your mother told me that you have been having a hard time dealing with what Miss Rayburne has been saying,” Gwyn said as she clasped her hands together nervously in front of her. “She sent Henry as a chaperone.”
Jack frowned. “Did you murder him on the way around the house?”
Gwyn turned to look around and noted that Henry was nowhere to be seen. She sighed. “No, but I fear I might have upset him. I am sorry.”
“He probably deserved it,” Jack said evenly with a bit of the old Jack shining through his words.
Gwyn gave the man a tentative smile before she politely covered her mouth with her hand. She walked over to stand beside him. She gazed out on the gardens. “It was always lovely here,” Gwyn said as she remembered summer evenings spent chasing fireflies in the garden.
Jack agreed with a nod. “I find it useful when I need to think.” He cleared his throat. “We really should go in given that we have no chaperone. I would hate to endanger our betrothal.”
Gwyn turned and looked back down the path. “I cannot believe that Henry just left like that.”
“He might be around. Though chaperones are really supposed to be seen,” Jack said a bit louder. They waited and listened, but only the birds and the buzzing of insects in the garden answered.
Gwyn sighed, “Should we retire to the kitchens, then?”
“I really do not require any efforts to get me back on track. I have decided to do what I must to get the eyes of our peers off of our house until Henry’s next scandal, of course,” Jack said with resignation that bordered on a strange confidence.
Gwyn shook her head. “You cannot seriously be considering giving in to her demands. Jack, you of all people know she is lying.”
“You think she is lying?” Jack asked most curiously as his green eyes studied Gwyn’s face.
Gwyn was suddenly quite aware of how close they really were. Merely a foot separated them, and Gwyn could have easily reached out and touched the man’s bearded cheek had she the boldness in her to do so. She stumbled over her words. “Well—I don’t—um—see any reason that it would be true. I mean—you were never alone with the young lady, were you?”
“No,” Jack said definitively as he clenched the hand he had laid upon the railing into a fist. He sighed and shook his head. “It will not matter whether it is true or not. That is not how society works, Gwyn.”
Gwyn felt warmth blossom in her heart at the man’s use of her given name. It sounded good upon his tongue, and she wished he would say it again. Gwyn said, “People can be redeemed in the eyes of society, and truths can be told, Jack.”
Jack’s eyes met hers at the use of his name. Gwyn knew she should break eye contact and step away from the man, but she could not bring herself to do so. Jack’s green eyes searched her gaze for something, but Gwyn did not know what he was looking for. Whatever it was the moment passed, and Jack broke the eye contact by looking back over the garden.
“We should go in. Thank you for coming to speak with me, but the reality is that I have little choice in this matter. She is not a bad sort, and I firmly believe that she was merely hurt by my dismissal of her,” Jack said reasonably.
Gwyn could not believe what she was hearing. “You are defending her. She is blackmailing you, and yet you still see the good in her?”
“People hurt Gwyn, and they do absurd things when they are hurt. We, of all people, should be familiar with that notion,” Jack said quietly. His gaze was out over the garden still.
Gwyn took a deep breath and reached out to put her hand on the side of Jack’s face. She brought his face around so she could see his eyes again. She found sadness in his eyes, but there was also something else. Gwyn said softly, “I am sorry that I ran away to India. There. I said it, Jack. I was hurt. Honestly, I am tired of feeling guilty for something that I did as a hurt child.”
“Why were you hurt?” Jack asked the question with such deep concern and anguish that Gwyn hesitated.
Gwyn’s momentum faded, and she shook her head. It would do no good to bring it up, and surely Jack knew. Gwyn had no energy left to try and fathom the man. She just wanted to go home. “I am very tired,” Gwyn whispered. “You will do what you think you must, but it does not make it the right thing to do, Jack.”
Gwyn turned to leave but found she could not. Jack’s hand had wrapped around her arm above the elbow, and he pulled her back around, and in doing so towards him. Gwyn stumbled a bit, but Jack caught her. “Why were you so hurt that you ran away? Did I do something?” Jack asked as he held her captive in his gaze and embrace.
The feeling of being far too close to Jack was overwhelming. Gwyn felt a flutter in her stomach that threatened to make her sick, and she shook her head as if to beg Jack not to make her say it. If the man did not know that she had seen his betrayal, what good would it do to let him know that she had?
“Gwyn, tell me, please,” Jack begged in a ragged whisper.
Jack’s grip on her loosened, but Gwyn still felt trapped. She longed to stay in this haphazard embrace, the only one she would likely get from Jack ever again, but the question burned in the man too strongly to let go. Gwyn swallowed and whispered through her dry lips, “It does not matter. It was a long time ago.”
“You will not tell me?” Jack shook his head in anguish. “Why will you not tell me? Why come here if I did something so horrible to you that it caused you to run all the way to India? Why come here at all, Gwyn?”
Gwyn could think of no words. She felt Jack pulling away, and she struggled with the fear of losing the contact with him. Gwyn admitted in a hoarse whisper, “I love you. I do not know how not to love you.”
Jack looked as if Gwyn had slapped him. He stepped back, and Gwyn mourned the loss of him as tears filled her eyes. “I do not know what makes you say that to me,” Jack said with mounting anger. “To say such as that when I am hanging on by a thread is cruel even for you, Gwyn. I went to war to wipe out your memory, and you have the audacity to say you love me. If you loved me, then we would be married now. Did your missionary lose his glimmer of adventure? You come home and see me getting betrothed, and suddenly I am a treasure again.” Jack eyed Gwyn with a foreignness that Gwyn loathed to see.
Gwyn’s temper rose at the man’s words. “I ran because you made me, Jack. I ran because of you. All those rumours about the Shelton house and the maids that simply had to leave under unfortunate circumstances, they were not all on Henry’s head, were they? I have kept my
peace all these years and not sullied your family name out of friendship for your family.” Her hands on her hips, Gwyn stared the tall man down. “You ask me how I can say such as that to you. Well, trust me, Captain Shelton; no one is more disappointed in myself than I am.”
Jack stood stock still for a long time. When he spoke his voice fairly vibrated with a quiet rage that Gwyn had never heard before. “You kept your peace for my family’s sake? You seem to be insinuating that I had dalliances with other ladies … I waited on you loyally while you traipsed all over Europe. I waited, Gwyn. I have never even so much as looked at another woman until now.” The man’s fist hit upon the stone railing around the patio. “Who else have you told these lies to? Miss Rayburne and her uncle perhaps?”
“I saw you,” Gwyn said with equal anger back to the man. “I could not tell lies, because I only have the truth. Despite all of that, I have told no one of that night. I kept my own counsel, and you should thank me that I did so.”
Jack laughed a harsh, cold laugh. “Thank you? You ruined my life, Gwyn. I went to war. I saw men die.”
“That was not my doing,” Gwyn said fervently as she took a step back towards the man. “I did not make you do that.”
Jack turned fully towards her and shook his head. “You are the only person in Heaven or Hell who could have, Gwyn,” Jack said as he reached out towards her.
Gwyn did not know what Jack was going to do, but the next instant she found herself pulled to the man. Gwyn eyed him with wide eyes. “Jack,” Gwyn whispered, fearful that she had pushed the man too far.
Jack and Gwyn both stilled. Jack seemed to realize how close they were and the inappropriateness of their position at that moment as Gwyn felt his hold on her loosen. Anguish and relief warred inside Gwyn as Jack released her. Instead of stepping away from the man as etiquette would have warranted, Gwyn closed her eyes and leaned her head against Jack’s chest.
It was an intimate gesture that Jack did not at once rebuke. Gwyn felt him hesitate, his arm still lingering slightly around her where he had caught her fall earlier. “Well, this is intimate,” Henry’s voice said from the steps. Gwyn and Jack broke apart as if cold water had been doused on them.
“Henry, where have you been?” Jack asked through clenched teeth.
Henry shrugged. “Around,” the man said nonchalantly. “Gwyn and I had a bit of a moment ourselves, and I figured that I should cool off. I might suggest the same, Brother. Seems Gwyn has quite an effect on every man she is around.”
Gwyn scowled at Henry. “You make it sound like our argument was something less scrupulous, Lord Shelton. I do not appreciate it.”
Henry bowed. “So sorry to hear that, Lady Stanton, or is it, Miss Stanton, still? Did you marry that fool yet?”
“That is enough, Henry,” Jack said firmly. Henry looked less than impressed but fell silent. Jack turned towards Gwyn. “Thank you for coming by to check on me, but I have already made up my mind as to how I will handle this event. Please do tell your mother how grateful I am for her concern.” With that Jack dipped his head and went off down into the garden.
Henry and Gwyn were left standing together. After a time, Henry cleared his throat. “Right this way, Miss Stanton. I will show you out.”
“I can find my own way,” Gwyn said with a scowl at the man who merely smiled back at her. She left to find her mother and to leave Shelton Hall. Gwyn glanced back and saw Henry watching her with a smile still on his face. Gwyn wondered if he would tell anyone of what he had seen on the patio. Gwyn’s blood ran cold for a moment as she thought of it. Surely, Henry would not indict his brother just to make Gwyn’s life miserable. Or would he?
Gwyn found her mother just as she had left her. Lady Shelton stood up at the look on Gwyn’s face. “My dear, are you quite alright?”
“Yes,” Gwyn breathed. She looked over at her mother. “I have done all I can, and I am very tired.”
Lady Stanton rose and told Lady Shelton, “I fear I must take Gwyn home, Lydia. I do hope that whatever Gwyn said helped Jack.”
“I do as well,” Lady Shelton said fervently. “Thank you, Gwyn.”
Gwyn nodded her head, but guilt filled her as she whispered, “You are welcome, Lady Shelton.” What had she just done? The look in Jack’s eyes tore at Gwyn. If Henry had not interrupted, what would have transpired?
Chapter 6
Jack got up and looked out the window to his bedroom. It faced towards Stanton Manor, and Jack wondered if Gwyn was up. He shook the thought away. He had things to accomplish today. The first of which was to set up the betrothal, that was if he could convince his family that it was a necessary thing.
There was a knock at the door. Jack rolled his eyes. He had been up for hours thinking, and he had a good idea of who was at the door as he pulled it open. “Hello, Henry,” Jack said as he got his coat off the rack next to the door. “I was just heading down,” Jack informed his brother as he pushed past Henry.
Henry said, “Oh good. I was as well. I just wanted to check with you about what to say about Gwyn’s visit.”
“I fail to understand,” Jack said with a frown as they walked down the winding stairs to the foyer below.
Henry cleared his throat. “You two were rather intimate when I interrupted. I assumed that you would want that to remain private knowledge,” Henry said amicably.
“As if you would incriminate yourself when you were supposed to be chaperoning,” Jack threw back at his brother.
Henry shrugged. “Fine,” he admitted, “I left my post, but that does not mean you had to deflower the young lady.”
Jack fought the urge to ram his brother’s head into the wall and instead pulled on his coat. He was angrier at himself than Henry at any rate. Jack had almost lost control, and he could not afford to do that, not now. His family’s reputation was already tarnished and would only take a bit more to break in the eyes of society at large.
The two brothers walked into the dining room to find their mother already eating. Their father was nowhere to be seen. Lady Shelton looked up and smiled at her sons.
“Please, sit down. The courier that I sent has returned, and I wish to discuss the news with you,” Lady Shelton said eagerly.
Jack was less than eager to hear what new lies waited for him, but he sank into a seat anyway. Henry seemed rather anxious to hear about any scandal that did not involve him. Jack corrected that as Henry was always eager to hear about any scandal, even the ones that included Henry himself.
Once her sons were seated, Lady Shelton handed Jack an envelope. “It is a letter from Miss Rayburne’s uncle. I took the liberty of perusing it.”
Jack took the envelope and pulled the paper out with trepidation. He read over it and scowled. “What is this?”
“I believe he is offering a settlement. He will put out the word that Miss Rayburne has simply fallen ill, and we will pay for her to stay for a time in the colonies,” Lady Shelton said with a frown at the thought of it.
Jack shook his head. “The colonies? They are going to send her to have her child away from prying eyes. She really is with child?” Jack had felt a certain amount of anger at the woman before, but the idea that she was trying to blackmail him with someone else’s child filled him with rage. “They really think that I will just pay for some bastard child that is not even mine?”
Lady Shelton folded her hands on the table and eyed her son calmly. “Are you done throwing around vulgarities? The child hardly deserves your venom, Jack.”
“I apologize,” Jack said out of habit. He sighed, “I was prepared to marry the girl, but this is … even if it was my child, why would I submit to this? Why would they not want us to just marry?”
Henry broke into the conversation to say, “Perhaps it is to do with our damaged reputation.”
“I do believe that they are desperate for money,” Lady Shelton said thoughtfully. “They clearly seem to know that they cannot push this issue as it is not your child. It is possible that the father of
the child is simply unsuitable for paying for the child.”
