Cast in Ruin

by Laura Landon

  “Yes. My point is that obviously not all of Society has turned their backs on you.”

  “Emily, Portence, and I have always been close.”

  “Then their assistance will make it easier for you to take your place in Society if they are there to support you.

  Her reaction was unmistakable. She pulled her feet out from beneath her and sat forward in her chair. She tightened the cover she had wrapped around her as if it could protect her against what he was saying.

  “Are you suggesting that we attend social functions in the near future?”

  Her voice was tight, filled with panic. He ignored her obvious concern. “I doubt we will receive any invitations for a week or so, but yes. I intend for us to attend several functions in the near future.

  She remained frozen, as if chiseled from marble, and stared at him. “What if I told you that facing Society is something I am unwilling to do?”

  “I would answer that as your husband, it is something I am asking you to do.”

  “Asking? Or demanding?”

  “The answer to that is in how you choose to look at my request.”

  She didn’t respond for several long moments. When she did, her voice held a strange tone. A sound that might be considered filled with pain. As if the life had been squeezed out of her.

  “You don’t know what it was like,” she said.

  “I’m sure it was uncomfortable.”

  She smiled. “Yes, uncomfortable is one term to use for how Society treated me. Also humiliating. And degrading. And demeaning.”

  “It won’t be that way the next time,” he said with the bravado he’d developed since he’d realized how likely it was that he could become an outcast if anyone discovered what his mother had done.

  “Why? Because you have made me an honest woman?”

  “In part.”

  Her shoulders lifted when she took in a deep breath. “What if I told you our marriage will make no difference?”

  “You can’t guarantee that.”

  She faced him with a courage he had to admire. “I can.”

  “You forget who I am.”

  “Oh, I know who you are,” she countered. “I also know what you are. Your reputation precedes you.”

  He shot his eyebrows upwards and stared at her. “And what reputation is that?”

  “That of a rake.”

  “Then you do not know me well. I possess several other qualities you do not want to see firsthand.”

  “Is that meant to intimidate me?”

  “I wouldn’t say intimidate. Perhaps so that you understand me better.”

  Her eyes narrowed and she studied him before she spoke. “What exactly is it that you want to make sure I understand?”

  “That, as your husband, I intend for us to take our place in Society. We started out our marriage under a cloud of suspicion. I intend for people to see us as a couple.”

  “A happily married couple?” she asked.

  “Yes, my lady. Happily married. Although we are aware of the circumstances that precipitated our marriage, it’s not necessary to confirm what Society might think they know. Our affairs should remain between us.”

  “And what role do you see me playing in this charade?”

  Her question surprised him. “What I expect, wife, is for you to accompany me to the social gatherings to which we’re invited, and show me the respect any wife is obligated to show her husband.”

  “Even though you know my standing in Society?”

  “As I said before, your marriage to me has erased what happened in your past.”

  She lifted her brows as if she still didn’t believe him, then she rose to her feet. She took several deliberate steps away from him and stood before the window that overlooked a flower garden in the back of the house. She lifted one side of the drapery, stared into the darkness for several long moments, then let the heavy damask fall back into place. “And what role do you see yourself playing, my lord?”

  Her question shocked him. “Excuse me?”

  She turned. Her expression was unreadable, but one fact Ben was most sure of was that she was serious.

  “I know what you expect of me,” she said in explanation. “And if I’m expected to conform to your expectations, then I’d like know if I will be allowed the same courtesy?”

  Ben relaxed back in his chair and rested one ankle atop the opposite knee. He tried to appear as if he were at ease, while every muscle in his body tensed. “You have some…” He hesitated for emphasis. “…demands to make?”

  “Two.”

  “I see.” He nodded. “Go on.”

  “If one of your demands is that I am to pretend to be a loving and dutiful wife, and show you the respect any wife is obligated to show her husband, then I would ask that you show me the same respect.”

  Ben tried to see where she was going with this but couldn’t. “What exactly are you saying?”

  “I am saying that I expect you to pretend to be a loving and … faithful husband, and to honor your vows the same as I intend to honor mine. Unless, of course, you do not intend to take your vows seriously.”

  “Which vows are you referring to in particular?” he asked. He was more surprised than anything.

  “The vow of faithfulness, my lord.”

  “Are you asking if I intend to take lovers?”

  “Yes, my lord. Because if you intend to take lovers, then my assumption is that you do not mind if I, too, take lovers while we are married.”

  Ben bolted to his feet. “You will not take a lover while we are married! Your name will never be linked to another man’s. Is that understood?”

  The anger he felt was intense. The idea that she would think to make a fool of him by having affairs with other men while they were married was unacceptable. The idea of allowing Society to think he couldn’t satisfy his wife in their marriage bed was something he refused to contemplate. How could she even suggest such a thing?

  “Then I will make the same demand of you, my lord. You will not be allowed to take other lovers while we are married.”

  “You think I would?”

  “I don’t know. I only know that I have been demeaned enough by Society. I refuse to endure any more humiliation. I know you only by reputation. And your reputation with women doesn’t give me much comfort.”

  “If you know me by my reputation, then you also know that I have needs that I expect my wife to meet. I’ll not let you demand that I not find comfort in another woman’s arms if you refuse to welcome me in your bed.”

  Ben took great satisfaction in watching the color drain from his wife’s face. She’d obviously not considered the double edge of the sword she thrust at him.

  Her voice was weak. Her words tentative. “You… You will… always be welcome in my bed, my lord. You have my word on that.”

  They stood in the flickering lamplight, their bodies braced for war. Their stern expressions those of adversaries, instead of a newly married couple on their wedding night. He eventually realized she had no intention of being the first one to speak. He would have to make that concession.

  “You said there were two demands?”

  She clutched her hands tightly in front of her. “I would like your promise that I can retire to the country at the end of the Season.”

  Her request confused him. “Alone? Or with your husband?”

  “That is up to you. I know how fond you are of city life, but I am not so much. I would like time away from London.”

  “And you don’t think I would? Because of my reputation?” he asked. He was bloody tired of hearing what he was or wasn’t like because of his reputation.

  “I… I don’t know.”

  “Well, as it so happens, I enjoy time in the country, too. I have seen the estate Father gave us as part of our wedding gift. Although not large in comparison to Townsend Estate or some of the other entailed properties, it will serve us well enough. It will be a perfect place to go when we tire of London, and an idea
l place to raise our family.”

  Her expression changed at the mention of a family.

  “Do you like children, my lady?”

  “Yes, my lord. I’m very fond of children.”

  “Good, because I anticipate we might have several, considering the time we will spend sharing a bed.”

  Ben enjoyed watching her face lose color. He’d made his point, though, and there was no use in belaboring what he expected from his new wife. She’d find out soon enough.

  He looked at her weary expression, at the dark circles that rimmed her eyes. The strain of the last few weeks showed on her face.

  “Get some sleep,” he said as he moved toward the door. “You needn’t fear that I will exercise my husbandly rights tonight, even though my reputation might cause you to expect otherwise.” He opened the door and left her.

  Bloody hell, but he never thought he’d be in this position. He never thought he’d be married. And for the first time since he’d said the words binding them, he realized there was no way out of it.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Rachael sat in her chair long after her husband left the room. She relived every word he’d said. Evaluated every unuttered threat he’d made. He expected her to face Society again, even though she knew she’d never be welcomed back. He didn’t realize how thoroughly Julia Bentley had shredded her reputation.

  She rose to her feet and paced the room. She stopped in front of the window and stared out into the darkness.

  The house was silent now. Her husband had come to bed earlier. His rooms were next to hers and she’d heard him prepare for bed. Then, it was quiet and she assumed he’d retired. That was something she wasn’t ready to do. She doubted she’d be tired enough to go to bed any time soon.

  She tugged her robe closer around her shoulders and paced the length of the room again, then again. She stopped when the side door opened and her maid, Milly, entered.

  “Would you like me to go below and warm you some milk, my lady?”

  Rachael shook her head. “I doubt even warm milk will help. Did you hear what he wants?” she asked, knowing there was nothing Milly didn’t know about her scandal.

  “I heard,” Milly answered. “What are you going to do?”

  Rachael shook her head.

  Milly had been with her since her come-out. Although a few years older than Rachael, over the years she’d become a friend as well as her lady’s maid and chaperone. She knew all Rachael’s secrets. Knew everything that was important to Rachael.

  She was the only person who knew what had happened the night she’d been ruined.

  And after.

  Milly led Rachael to her chair, then tucked a cover around her. “What exactly is it that Lord Benjamin wants?”

  Rachael clutched her hands tighter in her lap. “For us to appear before the ton and play the role of happily married newlyweds. And I can’t refuse him. It’s his right to want that. He’s the son of the Duke of Townsend.”

  “Then you’ll have to decide what you will do, my lady,” Milly said, sitting in a chair that faced Rachael. “You’ll have to consider everything that can happen when you attend your first ball and be prepared.”

  “I’m not sure I can be prepared for what is bound to happen.” Rachael held fistfuls of the cover in her hands and clutched tighter. “And that’s only part of it. What if he finds out about—?”

  “He won’t,” Milly interrupted. “We’ve kept your secret this long. We can keep it longer.”

  “But that was—”

  “Worrying won’t help anything, my lady. We kept your secret from your mother. We can keep it from your husband, too.”

  Rachael worried her bottom lip. “For how long?”

  “That remains to be seen,” Milly said softly.

  “I wish I could see an end to this that isn’t tragic. But I can’t.”

  “You need time, my lady. You need to get to know your husband better, and for him to know you. You need to build his trust. Then, when…if…he discovers the truth, he will be able to accept it.”

  “How can I build his trust when he has to admit that I will never be accepted back into Society? And you know how important moving in London’s social circles is to him. You’re aware of his reputation as well as I am.”

  “Perhaps he’ll change, now that he’s married,” Milly said, except Milly didn’t truly believe that. Rachael heard the doubt in her voice.

  “What if he doesn’t?” Rachael countered.

  “No good will come from worrying about that now. We’ll worry about that when we need to,” Milly said, then rose. “I’ll be getting you some warm milk, now. It will help you sleep. You’ll need it to face tomorrow.”

  Rachael waited until Milly returned with a glass of warm milk, then urged her maid to go to bed, promising she’d drink the milk and try to get some sleep.

  She slowly drank the milk, then set the glass on a nearby table, but she didn’t go to bed. Instead, she curled up in the chair and pulled the warm cover up around her. She closed her eyes, and although she didn’t think she’d fall asleep, she did.

  And she relived the night when her life changed.

  . . .

  EIGHTEEN MONTHS EARLIER

  Rachael hid in a secluded corner of Lord Comston’s ballroom and pressed her back against the cool alabaster of a large column. A lush potted palm concealed her from the other guests who’d been invited to Julia Bentley’s house party.

  She was out of place here, and for the thousandth time since she’d arrived five days ago, Rachael wished she hadn’t come. She also wished she could stay hidden here all night, but the chances of that happening weren’t great.

  She lifted her fluted glass to her lips and emptied the champagne. She’d lost track of the number of glasses she’d had, but she no longer cared. She only had to endure the masked ball tonight and until after lunch tomorrow, then she could go home where she’d be back in her normal surroundings.

  Why on earth she’d agreed to attend Julia Bentley’s house party was due to her mother. She’d never fit in well with Julia or any of her friends, but when Julia’s best friend, Madeline Crumpet, had fallen ill and couldn’t attend, Julia was frantic to find another female to even the numbers.

  It wasn’t that Julia wanted to include her. But Julia’s mother had talked to Rachael’s mother and they thought it would be an excellent idea if Rachael would take Madeline’s place.

  Julia had begrudgingly agreed to invite Rachael because she wasn’t a threat to any of the other females who were invited. No one considered Rachael especially pretty, and her dance card usually went unfilled, therefore Julia considered her an excellent choice. And so, Rachael was forced to come. And somehow she’d managed to survive—barely.

  Rachael adjusted the slipping gray dove mask she’d worn to the masked ball, then stepped out from her hiding place as a footman walked past with a tray of filled glasses. He paused when she handed him her empty glass. When she had another full glass in her hands, she stepped back behind the potted palm and sipped her champagne. She didn’t think this night would ever end.

  Rachael pressed herself against the column and tried to make herself as invisible as possible. She wondered if it was possible to stay hidden until the masked ball was over. That thought made her want to giggle.

  The fact that she could find anything humorous in this unbearable situation was another sign that she’d had too much champagne already. And the night was barely half over. But she no longer cared.

  She lifted her glass to take another long swallow of Lord Comston’s excellent champagne, but stopped when she heard Julia’s voice from beyond the palm where she was hiding.

  “Where is she?” Julia asked.

  The voice that answered was Pauline Somersby’s. “How should I know? I’m sure I don’t care where she’s taken herself off to.”

  “Neither do I,” Julia said sarcastically, “but Mother gave me explicit instructions to make an effort to pay more attention to her. Sh
e pities her because no one has anything to do with her this entire week.”

  “That’s because Rachael Newton’s a bore,” Pauline said, not even attempting to hide her acerbic tone. “I don’t know why you invited her in the first place.”

  “I invited her because Mother made me. You know she’s friends with Rachael’s mother. She insisted I invite her as a favor to Lady Kendrick.”

  “Well, she doesn’t fit in with anyone here,” Pauline said.

  “She doesn’t fit in with anyone except her other two wallflower friends, Emily Sidwell and Portence Weatherby.”

  “That’s because they can’t get their noses out of books long enough to know what’s going on in Society.”

  “Well,” Julia said on a giggle. “At least she hasn’t stolen the attention of any of the eligible gentlemen I invited.”

  “Of course not,” Pauline said. “No one wants to have anything to do with her. Her intelligence frightens them away. They don’t know how to carry on a conversation with her. She’s too intelligent by far, and she lets everyone know it. They can hardly compliment someone as plain as she is without their words sounding like blatant lies.”

  “That’s why I didn’t object when Mother suggested she take Madeline’s place.”

  “Well there is that. She, at least, isn’t any competition to us.”

  Julia laughed, and the sound cut through to the emotions Rachael was holding on to by a thread. She closed her eyes and pressed her back harder against the column. She prayed that she could be as strong as Samson and the heavy cement would fall over on top of Julia and Pauline, but she knew that wouldn’t happen. Other than stepping out and exposing herself, she was forced to stay hidden and listen to more of their insults.

  “She couldn’t even garner the attention of Percy Bainsburn,” Julia continued. “He specifically asked that I not seat him next to her when we went in for dinner. He sat beside her last night and said he couldn’t suffer through another meal as tedious.”

  “Oh,” Pauline laughed. “That’s rich. Percy is usually so desperate for any female’s attention, he doesn’t care who he sits beside.”

  “And Roger asked that he not be partnered with her, either. It seems she insulted him last night during cards. Claims she accused him of losing the hand because he played the wrong card.”