by Laura Landon
He pushed himself to his feet and walked to the window. He clasped his hands behind his back while he stared out into the inky darkness. “Do you know what my plans were when I realized who he intended I should marry?” he asked, but Rachael knew he didn’t expect an answer. “I intended to marry you, play the dutiful husband long enough to get you with child and convince my father that I’d changed my wicked ways, then go back to my previous lifestyle.” He breathed a heavy sigh and dropped his head back on his shoulders.
“What changed your mind?” she asked.
He slowly turned until he faced her. “You did. I was ruined the minute I met you.”
“How were you ruined?”
“You weren’t at all what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
He shrugged a shoulder. “A silly, simpering female who was so desperate to accept the match our parents had made that you’d fall at my feet in gratitude and adoration. A female who considered herself the most fortunate of women to get an offer from me, the son of a duke. Although a second son. A featherbrain who was eager to do anything to get back into Society’s good graces. One who wouldn’t care where I spent my nights. Or with whom.”
He turned back to the darkness outside the window. “Before I met you, that’s the kind of female I assumed you’d be. I was certain you’d worship me as I was used to being worshiped.” He looked at her over his shoulder. “I’m told females don’t exactly think I’m ugly.”
“No, my lord. You’re not considered difficult to look upon.” She was unable to hide her smile.
“I also assumed you’d agree to any demands I made since I’d saved you from a fate worse than death—spinsterhood. And banishment from Society.” He turned. “But you didn’t fall at my feet. You didn’t stammer with undying gratitude, or promise me your undying love. Instead, you refused my offer.” He laughed a harsh guffaw. “Do you know how that insulted me? To know a female with no options would rather remain in the throes of spinsterhood than have me as a husband? I couldn’t believe it. The affront to my manhood was almost irreparable.”
“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to marry you,” she answered. “I didn’t want to marry anyone.”
“I know. Now I know why.”
Rachael lowered her gaze. “Yes.”
“But that wasn’t how you ruined me.” He returned to his chair and sat. His gaze met hers and remained there. “That came later. After we were married.
“I woke each morning looking forward to our discussions over breakfast. I eagerly anticipated the time we spent together every afternoon discussing the changes I wanted to make to our estate. I valued your opinions. I couldn’t wait to see the enthusiasm in your eyes when I made a suggestion you thought was good.
“Then, I couldn’t wait to introduce you into Society as my wife. I was as eager to have you take your rightful place as you were desperate to avoid it.”
He stretched his long, muscular legs out in front of him. “But what I looked forward to most, was the time we spent in each other’s arms. I couldn’t wait to discover every inch of your body. Then, I especially loved the times after we’d made love, when you nestled close to me and listened when I told you about the plans I made for rotating the crops on our estate. Or the advantages of a Cheviot breed of sheep for quality of wool versus a Marino breed.”
He pulled back his legs and sat forward. “You ruined me, Rachael. In the seven weeks since we’ve been married, I haven’t missed my former way of living once. The idea of returning to the lifestyle I used to lead repulses me.”
He raked his fingers through his golden hair. “Heaven help me, but I’m turning into my father,” he said on a moan. “I want a home to call my own, a family to watch grow, and a wife who cares for me, and will help me make plans for our future.”
Rachael blinked back tears.
“I know you said I could annul our marriage, or divorce you. Or send you away and never see you again. But I don’t want any of those choices. I don’t want to live my life without you. I can’t,” he ended on a whisper.
Before she could stop herself, she slid from her chair and fell to her knees at his feet. She reached out with trembling fingers and gathered his hands in hers. “I would like to be that person you want to talk to. The one who listens to you, and stands beside you while you make use of the admirable qualities your father instilled in you. I’d like to help you make your house a home, and give you children that you can watch grow. I’d like to be that person, Ben, if you’ll have me. And little Claire.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks and he brushed them away with the pads of his thumbs. Then he took her hands in his and brought her to her feet. “How soon can you be ready to leave for the country?” he asked, lowering his head and pressing his lips to hers.
“Two days,” she whispered and kissed him back. “Just long enough for Milly to get some clothes for Claire.”
“Two days, then,” he said, and kissed her again. Then he scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the bed.
Their lovemaking was as intense as ever.
She wouldn’t let him regret the choice he’d made. Because a part of her loved him more tonight than she thought it was possible to love anyone.
. . .
The staff was busy packing trunks for their move to Meadowmont Estate, and Ben was making all the last minute arrangements so they could leave tomorrow. But first there was one call he needed to make.
Ben dismounted in front of his friend, Baron Covington’s London home. He walked to the door and knocked. The door opened shortly after and he was shown to a small receiving room. Shortly after, he heard the sound of his friend approaching.
“Waverley,” his friend, Covey said, entering the room. “I was hoping you’d stop by. I’m dying to hear how marriage suits you.”
“It suits me fine.”
“Are you ready to spend an evening with me? I hear the Scarlett Lining has a new girl. She’s rumored to be—”
Ben held up his hand to stop Covey’s words. “I’m not interested, Covey. You’ll have to find a new partner in crime. Those days are over for me.”
“Bloody hell. You get leg shackled and it ruins you for anything else.”
“Not everything,” Ben said, taking the glass of brandy Covey handed him. “I’m turning into a passable husband. At least that’s what my wife tells me.”
“Did I just hear you right? Are you saying that you’re—” Covey stared at Ben in wide-eyed horror, then swallowed. “—happy?”
“Yes, I guess that’s what I’m saying.” Ben didn’t give his friend time to say more, but quickly said the words he needed to say. “I consider myself most fortunate.”
Covey’s eyebrows lifted slightly, but a smile covered his face. “Then I’m happy for you, friend. As long as you don’t expect me to follow you down the matrimonial path.”
“I wouldn’t think of it,” Ben said on a laugh. “I wouldn’t wish you on any unsuspecting female.”
“Then we need to drink a toast to the poor woman who married you. I didn’t know Lady Rachael, now Lady Benjamin, well. Only danced with her once that I can remember. But she struck me as a pleasant and intelligent female. To be stuck with you as a husband will be a trial.”
Ben laughed, then joined his friend in a toast. “Yes, I definitely got the better end of the bargain.”
“Was your marriage a result of the duel you fought?”
“You could say that. His Grace decided it was time for me to settle down and take on some responsibility. A wife seemed just the thing.”
Covey laughed out loud. “Yes, a wife is definitely what I’d consider a responsibility.”
“And so is the child that came with my wife.”
Covey’s mouth opened and didn’t close for several long moments. Ben took another swallow of the brandy in his glass.
“A child?”
“Yes, a girl.”
“Bloody hell, Waverley.”
Ben shrug
ged. “Actually, I find it quite agreeable. It forced me to set up my nursery sooner than I anticipated, but I quite like having the babe around.”
“I don’t believe it,” Covey stammered as he struggled to come to terms with Ben’s news.
Ben finished his brandy and set the glass down on the table beside him. “Father gave me Meadowmont and I’m going to take Rachael there this afternoon. I wanted to see you first to tell you I was leaving London, and to tell you about the child. News like that is guaranteed to travel through the gossip mills with lightning speed. I didn’t want you to hear that there was a child from anyone but me.”
“I appreciate it, friend. I’ll do my best to squelch any rumors that you are a miserable bridegroom.”
“I appreciate your friendship, Covey. I truly am not unhappy. In fact…,” He paused. “Well, leave it that I’m not.”
Ben rose, but stopped before he walked from the room. “One question. Do you remember the Compton house party we attended well over a year ago?”
Covey grinned. “How could I not. The money I won from you in cards bought me my matching pair of grays. I think of you every time someone comments on what I fine pair of horseflesh I have.” Covey dropped his head back on his shoulders. “Are you telling me you don’t remember the nights we spent holed up with Compton playing cards?”
Ben shook his head. “You know that I’m quite adept at forgetting the details of a night of drinking.”
“Yes, it’s not uncommon for me to have to remind you what ridiculous wagers you made when you’re in your cups.”
Ben smiled sheepishly. “It’s a defect of mine. Something popped into my mind a while back about Compton’s house party. Was there a masked ball?”
“Yes, and what an affair it was. I think Lady Julia had planned the evening with you in mind. And she was more than a little angry when you didn’t appear until the dancing was nearly over.”
“Was that because we’d stayed too long in the card room with Lord Compton?”
“Well, we had played cards before the ball, but I’m not sure where you went after that. I assumed you avoided joining the rest of the guests because you didn’t want to be trapped by Lady Julia.”
Ben nodded, then stepped from the room. Covey followed him. “One more thing. You said it was a masked ball?”
“Yes. It’s too bad you don’t remember. Lady Julia wore a mask that was decorated with purple and orange and gold feathers. They stuck out from all directions and you told her she reminded you of a peacock. When you asked her to dance the next set, she refused.”
“That wasn’t very sporting of me, was it?”
“No, but you weren’t very sporting toward anyone that whole weekend. You’d had an argument with your father before you left for the country and it put you in a foul mood the entire time.”
“I was an ass.”
Covey laughed. “Your words, not mine.”
“But true.” Ben paused. “Did I wear a mask that night?”
“Of course you did. Although you wouldn’t have had one if I hadn’t thought to bring a mask for you.”
One of the reasons Ben had come today was to ask that very question, then to find out what mask he’d worn. But now that he had the answer within his grasp, he didn’t want to know. Suddenly, the answer was no longer important.
It didn’t matter if he had fathered Claire. What was more important was that he would be Claire’s father forever, regardless of who had fathered her.
Realizing that was the most remarkable certainty he’d ever experienced. He walked toward the door the Covington butler held open for him, then walked into the bright sunshine as if this were the first day all year that the sun had shone.
“Come visit any time you feel the need to escape London,” Ben said over his shoulder. “You’re always welcome.”
“I will. I’ll surprise you some day.”
Ben walked to the carriage he’d used to see his friend. A footman opened the door and he lifted his foot to enter. Covey’s voice stopped him.
“A fox!” he yelled standing on the portico. “You were a fox that night.”
It took a moment for Covey’s words to sink in. When they did, Ben dropped his head back on his shoulders and laughed with elation!
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The trip would only take a couple of hours, but he wanted to get there early enough so Rachael could see her new home in the daylight. He wasn’t worried that she’d like it. He knew she would. But he wanted her to get settled in before nightfall. And he wanted her to get the baby settled in before nightfall.
A baby. He was responsible for a baby. And there was a strong possibility that the baby was his!
He’d had a day now to come to grips with the fact that there was a child from when Rachael had been compromised. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t known that a pregnancy was a possibility. He’d just never considered that a baby existed. There’d been no rumors hinting that there might be a child.
The fact that she’d failed to mention that Claire existed was the only part of the shock that he had a difficult time accepting. But now that he’d seen Claire, and held Claire, and realized that she might be his, he intended to do everything in his power to make a way for her in Society.
He would never resent her. He’d never treat her any differently than any of the other children he and Rachael might have. If anything, she would be more special to him, because she wasn’t to blame for what had happened. He was. He couldn’t blame Rachael either. Not after he heard what had driven her to seek comfort in the arms of a stranger. Not after he heard how desperate she was to be wanted.
He tried to remember if there’d been a time when he’d seen her at any society function, but he couldn’t recall any. He didn’t remember ever saying a friendly word to her, or ever having put his name on her dance card. He’d danced with more young debutantes than he could name, but he was certain Rachael had never been one of them.
He wondered how many other shy young ladies had gone unnoticed simply because they weren’t as pretty as the Julia Bentleys of the ton, or as popular. How many debutantes had been shunned by the Julia Bentleys of Society because their worlds didn’t revolve around the latest fashion, or the latest gossip. But around books and literature and learning.
Ben fought a stabbing of guilt. He vowed that at every event he attended in the future, he’d ask at least one young lady without a name on her dance card to dance. That he’d never let what happened to Rachael, happen to anyone else if he could help it.
But that was something for the future. For now he had to get ready to leave.
He set out the ledgers he needed to take with him, then looked up when Henley knocked.
“His Grace, the Duke of Townsend, is here, my lord.”
Ben rose. “Show him in, Henley.”
Henley stepped to the side and Ben’s father entered.
“I got your message, son, and wanted to speak with you before you left.”
“Come in, Father. Sit down. Can I get you something?”
“A brandy,” his father answered.
Ben lifted his eyebrows in surprise. His father must have something serious on his mind for him to break his rule about drinking before dinner. Ben poured them each a glass of brandy, then handed one to his father.
“Your decision to leave London is rather sudden, isn’t it?” his father asked when Ben had taken the chair next to his father’s.
“Yes, rather. Something came up that I need to take care of. I was going to tell you in time, but I’m still adjusting to the news myself. But since you’re here, you might as well hear what I’ve discovered.” Ben took note of the serious expression on his father’s face. “But first, why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind.”
“What makes you think something’s on my mind?”
“The frown on your forehead. And the brandy. Haven’t you always said that a wise man never starts drinking before dinner?”
“Yes, but I’ve recently discove
red there are times when that rule doesn’t apply.”
“Like now?”
“Yes. Like now.”
“What it is?” Ben asked, fighting a wave of discomfort.
“Your mother.”
Ben’s arm halted midway to bringing his glass to his mouth. “What about her?”
“She intends to come back.”
“No.” Ben shook his head. “You can’t allow her anywhere near us.”
“I don’t intend to. But what I want may not be possible.”
Ben took a step toward his father. “Why not!”
“Because she’s found a way to work behind our backs, and I don’t know how to stop her.”
“Perhaps we should have turned her over to the authorities when we found out what she’d done, Father. Perhaps she should have been tried and convicted.”
“We couldn’t have done that. Don’t you remember? We discussed that and decided that wasn’t an option.”
“We would have survived the scandal,” Ben argued.
“You nearly didn’t survive knowing what she’d done,” his father countered. “If I hadn’t pulled you off of the path you were traveling, I don’t want to imagine where you’d be now.” His father waved a hand through the air. The girls wouldn’t have survived for sure. They still might not if I can’t arrange matches for them before their mother finds a way to make a sudden appearance.”
Ben had nothing to say to that. His father was right. If he hadn’t stepped in to force Ben to marry Rachael, Ben didn’t want to think what might have happened to him. He was on a path to destruction, and marrying Rachael had saved him. The girls were a different matter altogether.
“The Season’s not over,” Ben said. “Perhaps you could—”
His father shook his head. “Anne’s too young. If I put them out now, everyone will know I’m desperate to get them married off. And,” he said, rising to his feet. He walked to the window and looked out. “Nothing will keep your mother away from London if she hears the girls are having their come-out.”
