An Earl to Save Her Reputation

by Laura Martin

  ‘It depends on the person and the nature of the scandal, I suppose.’

  Harry thought of his sister. She’d always been strong, vivacious, until the fateful night when her reputation had been dashed by a scoundrel of a young man and a few malicious onlookers. Before it had happened Harry would have said his sister could withstand anything; now he knew how fragile people could be.

  ‘I am grateful for your concern,’ Lady Fortescue said softly, the coolness of her demeanour lifting slightly. ‘You want to do the honourable thing and I’m sure any other young woman would be delighted to continue with a sham engagement until the rumours were lessened, if not forgotten.’

  ‘But not you?’

  Every word she uttered was considered and carefully chosen, every movement precise. And every moment that passed by Harry found himself becoming more and more intrigued by the notorious Lady Fortescue.

  ‘People already say the worst about me—another rumour is not going to make much difference.’

  Harry wasn’t so sure. Sometimes even the weakest of gossip could be turned into something hurtful and malicious.

  Sitting up even straighter in her seat, Lady Fortescue fixed Harry with an assessing gaze. ‘Unless you have a reason to want to avoid the scandal.’

  Of course he did. The Edgerton family name had been dragged through the dirt after his sister’s disgrace, but Harry was titled and reasonably wealthy and his reputation wouldn’t suffer overly much by being caught in a compromising position with Lady Fortescue. Especially if he married a nice, respectable young woman in a few months’ time. No, his reason for being here today wasn’t for himself or the rest of the Edgertons—in fact, he knew by embroiling himself with such a notorious widow he was opening himself up for more gossip and scandal than if he just stayed away. The real reason for him being here today was a sense of wanting to do the right thing by a young woman who might have a bad reputation, but seemed decent and vulnerable in Harry’s assessment. Perhaps he wouldn’t have been so insistent a year ago, but seeing his sister go through just such a scandal had awakened him to the hurt a woman could suffer at the hands of an unscrupulous man.

  ‘Not at all,’ Harry said. Lady Fortescue did not need to hear the dark, intimate Edgerton family secrets. ‘There is simply the matter of our supposed engagement to deal with.’

  For the first time today Lady Fortescue smiled, her eyes sparkling with repressed humour. ‘You can throw me over, I really don’t mind.’

  ‘Shall I say I caught you in the arms of another man?’ Harry couldn’t help himself, he wanted to see how far he could push her before she cracked.

  There was a beat of silence, then Lady Fortescue’s shoulders sagged a little, the perfect posture disappearing and with it some of the formality she exuded.

  ‘I’ve been rude,’ she said, her voice softer, less clipped. ‘Inexcusably so. I apologise. I suppose I’m not used to talking to people.’

  The door opened before Harry could answer, the elderly butler followed closely by a young maid.

  ‘I thought you might like to offer your guest some tea, my lady,’ the butler said.

  The maid set down a tray with two teacups, a pot, a jug of milk and a plate of crumbly biscuits before hurriedly leaving the room. The butler hesitated for a moment at the door.

  ‘Perhaps the gentleman will be staying for lunch?’ he asked, almost hopefully.

  Lady Fortescue laughed, exuding warmth towards the elderly servant, her grey eyes glittering as she turned back to Harry.

  ‘I’m sure you’re far too busy.’

  He inclined his head. There was always work to be done running his country estate and looking over the accounts, but he could of course have made time for lunch.

  The butler left, muttering something about a proper invitation before closing the door behind him.

  ‘Your uncle’s butler seems very keen to have guests to wait upon.’

  ‘I expect my cousin, Beatrice, put him up to asking. He is completely devoted to her, probably would jump in front of a horse if she asked him to without a second’s thought.’

  ‘Your cousin is playing matchmaker?’

  Lady Fortescue grimaced, a reaction that would have normally dented Harry’s pride, but he was quickly learning this young widow was strongly opposed to any future romantic link.

  ‘Forgive me for not ordering tea sooner,’ she said. ‘I am not used to entertaining guests.’

  Most wives of titled gentlemen were exemplary hosts, their main role to welcome guests into a well-looked-after home, but perhaps during her mourning period Lady Fortescue had locked herself away out of devotion to her late husband and forgotten the basics of hospitality.

  Harry sipped his tea, selected a biscuit and munched on it. All in all it had been a strange morning. He’d expected to come away with an engagement, at least in name, to Lady Fortescue. Instead he’d been more or less dismissed, despite the young widow’s softening in the last part of their interview.

  Standing, Harry was just about to take his leave when the door opened again and the doddery butler entered.

  ‘A package for you, my lady.’

  He’d never seen the blood drain from someone’s face as quickly as it did from Lady Fortescue’s. Quietly she thanked the butler, who placed the package on the table in front of her before leaving the room.

  Her hands were shaking as she stood, an unnaturally sunny smile plastered on her face.

  ‘Thank you for visiting.’ Her words came out as a choked whisper, and a hand flew to her mouth as if to claw them back in.

  Chapter Three

  The world was spinning, or that was how it seemed to Anna. Everything in the room had gone blurry and she felt herself stagger uncoordinatedly a few steps to one side. Before she could get her panic under control strong arms had looped around her waist and were guiding her back to the armchair, pressing her firmly, insistently, into the seat.

  ‘Take deep, slow breaths.’ Lord Edgerton’s voice was quiet and calm in her ear.

  Silently Anna cursed. Two minutes later and Lord Edgerton would have left. Now there would be questions, enquiries about her health, probably even a follow-up visit. At least the rules of politeness meant he would not enquire what was in the package.

  ‘What on earth is in that package?’ Lord Edgerton murmured, more to himself than to her. ‘That’s it, long, deep breaths, you’ll feel recovered in a moment.’

  Thankfully he didn’t seem inclined to call for a servant or her cousin to come and attend her; he seemed perfectly content to deal with this himself. Anna had to admire a man who could deal calmly with a panicking near-stranger—most would just step back and convince themselves it wasn’t their problem.

  Opening her eyes, she saw the room had come back into focus. In front of her she could see her hands gripping the arms of the chair so firmly her knuckles had turned white, and a few feet further away was the offending package.

  ‘Have some tea,’ Lord Edgerton suggested, backing away and sitting down in the other armchair, his demeanour remarkably relaxed.

  She declined with a shake of her head. The teacup would only rattle in the saucer and give away quite how discomposed she was, if the attack of panic hadn’t done that enough already.

  ‘Tell me it is none of my concern,’ Lord Edgerton said, his eyes fixed on hers, ‘but what could be so awful about this package on the table?’

  ‘It is none of your concern,’ Anna said, trying to inject some haughtiness into her voice, but failing miserably—the squeak that came forth from her mouth was more adolescent girl than woman of the world.

  Lord Edgerton actually grinned. ‘The gossips say you are unreadable, Lady Fortescue. Unreadable and superior, but I think they’ve got you all wrong. Right now I can read you as easily as I read the morning papers.’ He paused, catching her eye and holding it until Anna was for
ced to look away. ‘You’re petrified of whatever is inside that box.’

  Slowly she inclined her head; there was no point denying it. He’d witnessed her reaction first-hand.

  ‘What do you think is inside?’

  ‘Truly, I have no idea,’ she said honestly. It could be a bloodied rag, a pile of excrement, a particularly graphic and threatening letter. All of these things she’d received in similar packages over the last few weeks. ‘But it won’t be anything pleasant.’

  ‘There’s no markings to say where or who it is from. How can you be so sure it will be something unpleasant?’

  Instead of answering Anna stood, steeling herself mentally before raising her hands and starting to open the package. Her fingers were shaking so badly that she fumbled with the string that held the box closed. Quickly Lord Edgerton rose to his feet and placed a cool hand on top of hers, stilling her fingers.

  ‘Allow me,’ he said, not waiting for her to reply before unfastening the string and opening the box.

  The sharp inhalation of surprise told Anna that he hadn’t been prepared for whatever was inside. She stepped forward, but Lord Edgerton moved in front of her, blocking her view. As he raised his hands to her arms she flinched, as she always did whenever anyone touched her, but he gripped her gently but insistently, moving her away from the table.

  ‘What was inside?’ Anna asked.

  ‘A dead animal.’

  Anna felt the bile rise up in her throat. The vendetta against her was escalating. In a few short weeks it had gone from threatening letters to a dead animal in a box.

  ‘What sort of animal?’

  ‘A cat, I think.’

  Anna stiffened, torn between breaking free from Lord Edgerton’s grip and seeing for herself, and burying her head in his shoulder and crying for the animal she knew instinctively was in that box.

  ‘A ginger cat? Small?’

  Lord Edgerton nodded. ‘Was it yours?’

  Morosely Anna nodded. Beatrice had bought her the animal soon after Anna had come to live in London. It had been her younger cousin’s attempt to brighten Anna’s days and in a strange and unexpected way it had worked. At least until a few days ago when the lovely creature had gone missing.

  Lord Edgerton turned to her, his face fixed in an expression of determination. ‘You need to tell me what is going on here.’

  She needed to do nothing of the sort. He was little more than a stranger, albeit a chivalrous one. For a moment she avoided his eyes, trying to work out exactly what she could say to make Lord Edgerton go away and forget what he had seen here. It was a deep instinct, this need to deal with her problems with no help from anyone else. For so long she’d been on her own—even through her marriages she’d never found a true companion, someone to share the difficulties of daily life with.

  ‘I think you should leave,’ Anna said quietly, knowing he would protest, but trying all the same.

  ‘Not a chance.’

  ‘This really is none of your concern.’

  ‘Would you rather I called your uncle in here? Or your cousin?’

  Silently Anna shook her head.

  ‘I thought not. You haven’t told them, have you?’ he asked.

  ‘There is no need. I am dealing with it.’

  ‘You’ve had similar packages before?’

  Closing her eyes for a moment, Anna assessed her options. Either she could confide a little in Lord Edgerton, just enough to satisfy his curiosity, or she could insist he leave and risk him informing her uncle of what was happening.

  ‘Can we go for a walk?’ she asked, eyeing the package from a distance.

  ‘Of course. What would you like done with the box?’

  Anna felt the tears building in her eyes. Although she’d always insisted she wasn’t an animal lover, her little cat had brought her happiness in a time of fear and uncertainty.

  ‘Perhaps you would like to bury the cat discreetly?’

  Before she could answer he picked up the box, folded the lid over to shield the dead animal from her eyes and tucked it under his arm.

  ‘I will meet you on the front steps.’

  Anna watched in amazement as he left the room, crossed the hallway and quickly descended the stairs to the basement, no doubt in search of a servant to help him with whatever it was he had in mind. Although she prized her independence, in this situation it was rather pleasant to have someone else take charge and make the decisions.

  * * *

  Lady Fortescue had just emerged into the hallway when Harry came striding up the stairs from the basement kitchen, taking them two at a time. He’d found a footman and paid him a generous sum to store the package somewhere discreet, warning the man against looking inside. To ensure he would comply, Harry had tied the string in a complicated knot which meant he would know if it had been tampered with. Later he would organise for the box to be buried in the garden and for the gardener to mark the spot with a rose or some other flower of Lady Fortescue’s choice.

  ‘Shall we take a walk to the park?’ he suggested, offering Lady Fortescue his arm.

  She nodded, her face still ashen from the surprise of finding out what was in the parcel.

  They left the house and walked in silence for a few minutes, Harry content to let his companion gather her thoughts before pressing her for answers. He wasn’t sure what she’d got herself mixed up in, but his curiosity had been piqued and some deep-seated instinct meant he couldn’t abandon a woman in distress even if on the surface she didn’t want his help.

  ‘I’m not sure how much you know about me,’ Lady Fortescue said quietly as they entered Hyde Park. It was a sunny day, but still chilly for April, and there weren’t many people out taking the air at this hour.

  ‘Not all that much,’ Harry said, realising it was the truth. He’d heard many rumours, but none of them had included any information of substance.

  ‘I’ve been married three times,’ Lady Fortescue said, looking straight ahead as she spoke. ‘My first husband was elderly and infirm, wealthy, of course, with a title. My father arranged the marriage and it was assumed it would not be a long-lasting union. He died seven months after we were married.’

  ‘Lord Humphries,’ Harry said. He remembered the announcement now and his mother sympathising with the young debutante who’d been forced into marrying such an elderly man.

  ‘I was in mourning for a year and then I met Captain Trevels. I was a widow of some means and independent enough to make my own decisions, so I married Captain Trevels against my father’s wishes.’

  This union Harry had been unaware of. No doubt Lady Fortescue’s family had wanted to hush up what they saw as an inferior match for their daughter.

  ‘Soon after we married my husband was sent to India for a year. On his return he was dreadfully unwell and died only four weeks after our reunion.’

  Two dead husbands in the space of a couple of years, but despite the society gossip there seemed nothing untoward about the deaths. Elderly men and officers of the army died all too often.

  ‘Unfortunately my second husband had been a little too free with my inheritance and after my mourning period was complete I was dependent again on my father.’

  ‘He chose your third husband?’

  ‘I managed to hold out for two whole months before I agreed to marry Lord Fortescue,’ she said with a grimace, ‘but even at the very beginning I knew I had no choice. Eventually I would end up as Lady Fortescue.’

  For such a private person Lady Fortescue was being remarkably open and honest about her past. Harry wondered if she found it easier talking to him, a relative stranger, than someone who was close to her. If he probed too much, got too close, he was sure it would be easy for her to push him away.

  ‘Lord Fortescue had three children from his first marriage, all grown adults now. They resented our marriage from the
very start. My husband was fifty-eight when we married, in good health and very physically active.’

  ‘And then he died,’ Harry summarised.

  ‘And then he died. Of course his children tried to blame me. They threw me out of the house, have contested the settlements I am entitled to from the estate and even asked the local magistrate to investigate my husband’s death.’

  ‘So they’re the ones sending you these horrible packages?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ The words sounded so pitiful that Harry wondered just how much this young woman was having to deal with all on her own. ‘The packages only started arriving when I came out of mourning. I wonder if the Fortescue children would have waited so long.’

  ‘How many have there been?’

  ‘Four packages, and two letters.’

  ‘What was in the other packages?’

  Lady Fortescue shuddered, her fingers tightening their grip on his arm involuntarily.

  ‘One was full of excrement, from a horse, I think. One had a bloodied scarf and another an animal’s heart.’

  ‘And the content of the letters?’

  ‘Vile words, threats, profanities.’

  ‘But no clue as to the author?’

  She shook her head. They walked on in silence for a few minutes, Harry trying to take in everything he’d just been told.

  ‘Have you told anyone?’

  She turned to him, her large grey eyes wide, and shook her head. ‘Only you.’

  Harry felt his pulse quicken as she regarded him with an expression of reluctant hopefulness. Even though their acquaintance was only a brief one already he felt a desire building not to disappoint her. Swallowing, he realised his mouth was dry and his tongue felt heavy behind his lips. Lady Fortescue might not be an exotic beauty, but she possessed a quiet, mesmerising quality that made it difficult to walk away.

  ‘Lord Edgerton, what a delight,’ a middle-aged woman called from some distance away and Harry had to search his memory for her name and the circumstances of their acquaintance. ‘I’d heard rumours you and Lady Fortescue were engaged, and here you are walking out together. How lovely.’