Cast in Ruin

by Laura Landon

  She gently rocked a sleeping Claire as his loud, angry footsteps came nearer.

  He wasn’t trying to be quiet. If anything, there was a resolute determination in each footfall. He reached her door, then stopped. Without knocking, he pushed the door open and entered her room.

  He searched the room, found her, then walked toward her. He didn’t stop until he reached her. When he did, he stopped so close their toes almost touched.

  “I want to know what happened at Julia Bentley’s party. Everything.”

  Rachael’s heart skipped a beat. She’d prayed that she’d be able to take the secret of those two weeks with her to her grave. But he wasn’t going to let her. And if anyone deserved to know what happened those weeks, he did.

  “Very well. Let me put the babe down.”

  He stepped back to give her room.

  She rose and carried Claire to the makeshift nursery the staff had set up in the next room. When she returned, she let her gaze evaluate him. She wanted a hint as to the mood of the man she was facing. The stony darkness in his gaze wasn’t comforting. Nor was his rigid stance.

  He no longer wore his jacket and waistcoat, and his shirt was open at the neck. He’d rolled up his sleeves nearly to his elbows and the golden hair on his arms shimmered in the firelight.

  His wheat-colored hair was mussed, as if he’d raked his fingers through it numerous times in frustration. Or in anger. Several strands hung down across his forehead, giving him a dangerous look. Dark circles rimmed his bloodshot eyes. She didn’t think he was drunk, but she wouldn’t blame him if he were. The look in his eyes, however, caused her the most concern.

  The warmth and devilishly teasing look she was used to seeing was absent. An unreadable coldness had replaced the humor that was there most often. What she regretted seeing was the raw hurt his eyes had never had cause to contain.

  She’d put that hurt there, and she mourned that more than she could say.

  He nodded toward her chair as an indication he wanted her to sit. Rachael sat.

  “What happened at Julia Bentley’s house party? I need to know.”

  Rachael closed her eyes. She’d known this day would come, but that didn’t make it any easier to say the words. If only she weren’t to blame for what had happened. But she was. She was the only person who could shoulder any responsibility.

  She took a deep breath and tried to steady her nerves before she began. “I didn’t want to attend Julia Bentley’s house party. She and I were never friends, but one of her closest friends, Madeline Crumpet had fallen ill and couldn’t attend. Julia was desperate to find a replacement and I was offered because I wouldn’t pose a threat.”

  “What kind of threat could you possibly pose?”

  Rachael couldn’t help but attempt a smile. How little the male population knew about the fierce competition females waged to make the most advantageous matches. And how brutal they could be to each other.

  “May I ask you a question?”

  Benjamin’s eyebrows lifted and he answered not with words, but with a sharp nod of his head.

  “You have been a part of more than one Social Season, have you not?”

  “Yes.”

  “So have I,” she added. “In fact, I remember seeing you at most of the balls I attended. Do you remember ever seeing me?”

  He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. “I regret to say I don’t.”

  “That’s because I wasn’t worth noticing. I wasn’t an exceptional beauty. Nor was I forward enough to get noticed. And I didn’t come with a staggering dowry. I was therefore not worth your notice. Nor was I a threat to the Julia Bentleys of Society who were vying for your attention. Therefore, I was the perfect person to fill in for the ailing Madeline Crumpet.

  “My mother was elated when Julia asked me to attend her party. She insisted that I go. She hoped that I would make a favorable impression on Julia’s friends who’d been invited. Especially the male guests. But I knew that wasn’t possible. I’d been introduced to most of them at social functions before, and hadn’t made an impression. I doubted things would be any different this time.”

  Rachael sighed. “I expected to have a miserable time, but I hadn’t anticipated it would be as horrible as it was.

  “Somehow, I survived the two weeks and we reached the night of the masked ball. The party was at an end the next day and I’d finally be able to leave. I couldn’t wait.”

  A frown deepened across Rachael’s forehead and she paused. “Were you there? I remember seeing you during the week, but not that night. Not at the ball.”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “To be honest, I don’t remember. I’d been issued a special invitation from Lord Comston. I knew the reason was to give his daughter a chance to impress me with her charm. I almost didn’t attend, but changed my mind at the last minute. Lord Covington and I arrived late and we spent most of our time in the card room with Lord Comston and some of the other guests who weren’t interested in making matches. Our goal was to go home with our pockets heavy with winnings, and to drink Lord Comston’s excellent wine cellar dry.”

  Rachael managed a weak smile. “Your absence was noticed. Yours and Lord Covington’s. The females in attendance considered it quite rude of you to spend so much time avoiding them. The purpose of the house party was for Lady Julia to show you how enamored of you she was.”

  Ben didn’t react other than to roll his eyes in disdain. “Go on. What happened the night of the ball?”

  “Nothing for most of it. I spent the evening secreted behind one of the large columns. There was a potted palm tree next to it that secluded the area and made it a perfect hiding place. I only stepped out long enough to replace my empty champagne glass with a full one. Before the ball was halfway through, I was more than a little tipsy.”

  That caused Ben to lift his eyebrows as if he couldn’t imagine her getting drunk.

  “The evening would have been unremarkable enough if only Julia and her friend, Lady Pauline, hadn’t come in search of me. Lady Comston noticed that I was missing and sent Julia to find where I’d gone. It seems she’d promised my mother she’d make sure I had a good time.”

  Rachael clasped her hands in her lap. Reliving that night wasn’t pleasant. Especially having to admit to Ben what Julia and the other guests at the house party thought of her.

  “Julia and Pauline stopped a few feet in front of me. I thought for sure I’d be discovered, but I wasn’t. Instead, I heard a discussion I wish I hadn’t overheard.”

  Rachael breathed a deep sigh before she continued. “It seems I was an even bigger disappointment than I’d anticipated. And Julia regretted inviting me more than I’d thought. Several of the male attendees had requested that they not be partnered with me. It seems voicing my opinions intimidated them.”

  Rachael lifted her gaze and faced him with all the courage she could muster. “It was difficult to hear what the males in attendance truly thought of me. But I knew it was true. I’m not easy to talk to. I’m not a simpering female that expects false flattery. I can’t abide members of the nobility who don’t have a brain in their heads, no matter how impressive their title is.”

  She ignored the faint glitter in Ben’s eyes and continued. “Perhaps if I hadn’t had such a miserable two weeks, their words wouldn’t have hurt so badly. Perhaps if I hadn’t had so much to drink, I could have shrugged off their insults. But that hardly matters now.

  “The minute I had the opportunity, I escaped the ballroom. I thought I’d gone the right direction, but I must not have. I couldn’t find my room. I started to cry, but that only made matters worse. And then…”

  She stopped.

  “Go on,” he demanded.

  “I ran around a corner and collided with someone. A man. He was tall and broad shouldered, and I would have landed on the floor if he hadn’t pulled me to him to keep me from falling.”

  Rachael couldn’t let him see her face when she told the rest of her story. She rose to her feet and
stood by the window with her back to him. “He saw my tears and told me not to cry, but I couldn’t stop. He wrapped his arms around me and held me until I didn’t have any more tears to shed.”

  Several moments went by before she could speak. “I’d never been held by a man before. And I needed to be held so badly. I’d just overheard Julia and Pauline say that everyone considered me ugly. And that none of the men at the house party wanted me anywhere near them.

  “I’d attended dozens of balls during the Season, and had spent nearly every set watching everyone else dance, while I sat along the wall with the other wallflowers. I’d never had a man look at me, let alone hold me, and for the first time in my life, I was in the arms of a man who looked at me and didn’t turn and walk the other way. It was as if every dream I’d ever had was being answered. And then he kissed me.

  “Of course he didn’t know my identity, nor did I know his. We both wore masks. And that made everything more perfect. I didn’t have to see the disappointment in his eyes when he realized who he was holding. Who he was kissing.

  “We should have stopped. He tried. But I wouldn’t let him. I doubted I’d ever experience anything like this again, and I wanted this one memory to relive when I was old and alone. And I didn’t think Claire would be the result of what we did.”

  She stopped. There was nothing more for her to say. Nothing she could say that would change anything.

  Silence filled the air. It wasn’t a peaceful kind of silence that comforted and eased the tension-filled moments of a stressful day. This kind of silence was as vibrant as an electrical storm. As turbulent as a brutal wind. As violent as the rough seas during a hurricane. As unrelenting as a silence that closed in around you from all sides, until you thought the pressure might suffocate you.

  “Who was he?” he asked. But his words weren’t a question. He’d issued a demand.

  “I don’t know.”

  “You have to know! He—”

  “He wore a mask. And I wore a mask.”

  “What kind of mask?”

  Rachael spun around. “I wore a dove mask.”

  “Not you! Him! What kind of mask did he wear?”

  She hesitated. “A fox. He wore a fox mask.”

  Ben stormed to the opposite side of the room. They were probably less than twenty feet apart, yet it seemed miles. And at the same time it seemed as if he was bearing down on her.

  “Didn’t you want to know who you made love to?” he finally asked.

  She shook her head, then realized he had his back to her and couldn’t see her answer. “No,” she whispered. “I didn’t want to know who he was. And I didn’t want him to know who I was.”

  Rachael wrapped her arms around her middle as a shield of protection. “I couldn’t have survived it if he recognized me and regretted touching me. I couldn’t have borne knowing he was repulsed by what we’d done. I couldn’t have,” she gasped, then brought her fist to her mouth to stop a moan. “I couldn’t have,” she repeated.

  Somehow she made it to her chair. She sank down onto the cushion and dropped her head to her hands.

  Time ceased to exist. She didn’t know how long she rocked back and forth in her chair. It could have been minutes. It could have been hours. She didn’t know where Ben was. Or if he was even in the same room with her any longer. Perhaps he’d already left.

  Tears streamed down her face and she let them fall. These would be the last tears she’d shed over what had happened that night. This would be the last time she’d apologize for what she’d done.

  She cried until she had no more tears left to cry, then she slowly lifted her head.

  Ben sat in the chair across from her. His features looked as if they were chiseled from stone. His eyes had a glassy cast, a faraway look, as if he were here physically, but his mind no longer wanted to face what she had told him. As if his emotions weren’t stable enough to deal with what she’d done.

  She’d forced him to face this. She’d caused the chasm that divided them. And she’d have to bear the penalty he deemed to exact. She waited.

  “How were you discovered?” he asked.

  “When the ball was over, Lady Comston realized she hadn’t seen me for several hours. When no one else had either and I wasn’t in my room, she ordered a search of the house. One of the upstairs maids found me the next morning and went for Lady Comston. Of course, Julia and half her guests followed.”

  “Where was your lover in the fox mask?”

  “Gone.”

  “How chivalrous.”

  Ben’s tone was edged with disdain. His accusation derisive. “I’m glad,” Rachael defended. “He would have been forced to do something neither of us would have wanted.”

  “Unlike what we were forced to do,” he rebuked.

  She glared at him through her tears. “You could have refused to marry me.”

  “I had no choice,” he countered.

  “Nor did I,” she answered on a whisper. “Perhaps we were simply doomed from the start.”

  “Yes, perhaps we were.”

  And he was silent.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Rachael hadn’t been able to take Ben’s icy stare and uncomfortable silence any longer and had left him to check on Claire. She stood beside Claire’s crib and watched her sleep. She slept so peacefully. Completely unaware of the turmoil that surrounded her.

  Rachael brushed away any signs of the tears she’d shed, then reached down to straighten the covers over her babe.

  This was it, then. He knew it all now. All that was left was his decision as to what he intended to do concerning her and Claire. She hoped he’d decide to banish them to the country somewhere. She had a small trust on which she could live, and perhaps her father would give her a small portion of the dowry he’d offered for her but that the Duke of Townsend had refused.

  And she still had the jewels that she could sell. If she lived frugally, and raised most of what she and Claire would need to eat, they should get by for several years. After that… Well, she’d worry about that when the time came.

  She brushed her fingers along Claire’s downy soft cheek. She couldn’t stop touching her. Looking at her. She’d gone so long just seeing her a few minutes a couple of days a week, that now that she had her with her, she couldn’t be close enough to her.

  She’d been so absorbed in watching Claire that she’d almost missed hearing him approach.

  He walked across the room and stood next to her. His gaze dropped to where Claire slept. “She’s a pretty babe, isn’t she?” he said clumsily.

  Rachael smiled. “Yes, as far as babes go, she’s very pretty. Milly says it’s the deep dimples in her cheeks, but I think it’s her eyes.”

  “I didn’t notice her eyes,” he admitted.

  “They’re blue. A deep shade of blue. They match the sky on a clear summer day, and twinkle with laughter.”

  “She must get them from…her father. Your eyes are brown.”

  “Yes,” Rachael whispered. “Mine are brown.”

  There was a moment of uncomfortable silence between them, then Rachael asked the question she knew needed asking. “Are you ready to tell me what you’ve decided?”

  He was silent for so long, at first she didn’t think he intended to answer her. Finally, he spoke.

  “Can you leave her for a while?” he asked.

  Rachael’s heart plummeted to the pit of her stomach. She’d expected this but she wasn’t sure she was ready to accept the choice he’d made. “Yes, I can leave her.”

  “Will she wake?”

  Rachael smiled, even though she didn’t feel like smiling. “I doubt that cannon fire would wake her now.”

  She took one final look at Claire, then turned and left the room. Ben followed her, and they took their places in the chairs facing each other.

  When she was seated, she rested her hands in her lap and gripped her fingers together. Then she took a deep breath. “What have you decided I should do?” she asked, then ste
eled herself for his response.

  It seemed an eternity before he spoke.

  Her heart pounded in her head while she waited to hear her fate. The seconds stretched into torturous minutes.

  Finally, he released a heavy sigh and shook his head. “I don’t know. You’ve ruined me, Rachael.”

  His statement confused her. “You won’t be ruined, my lord. I will bear the brunt of the blame for my deception. No one will fault you. I kept the babe a secret from you. No one will hold you responsible for…” She found it difficult to say the words. “…for whatever you decide to do.”

  He shook his head. “That’s not what I mean. I don’t care what Society thinks of me.”

  “Then how do you think you will be ruined?”

  “I used to spend my nights partying and drinking and gambling and…and other things. I’d come home when most other people were starting their day, then sleep the day away. This was my life. I’d do the same the next night. And the next. Often not even recalling where I’d been, or who I’d been with. It wasn’t a life I was proud of, but there were things I was trying to run from, memories I was trying to run from.”

  “What memories?”

  He stopped, but didn’t look at her. His only response was to close his eyes and shake his head. “They don’t matter.”

  It was obvious he wasn’t ready to discuss whatever it was, so Rachael let it drop. For now.

  “I lived without a care in the world,” he continued, “and didn’t have a serious thought about the future. Until my father turned my world on its ears.”

  Ben leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees. “He gave me two choices. I could either marry and settle down, or find employment. He was tired of supporting the wastrel life I was living. He considered that at the rate I was going, I wouldn’t live to reach my twenty-fifth birth year. And I probably wouldn’t have. Wellingbridge may have failed in his attempt to kill me, but no doubt some other husband would have succeeded.”

  He chortled a strange laugh that wasn’t a laugh at all. “As far as I was concerned, my father hadn’t given me a choice. I’d lived a life of luxury from the time I was born. I couldn’t imagine having to work for a living. Or, heaven forbid,” he guffawed, “going without. So I agreed to marry.”