Scandal at the Midsummer Ball

by Marguerite Kaye

  The duchess rose with a fond look for her husband. ‘Now that’s settled, I must go and check the menus for supper tonight. Please excuse me.’

  Brockmore waited until his wife was gone. It was time to get down to business, man to man. ‘It is settled, isn’t it?’ Brockmore asked bluntly. His wife would be disappointed if it was not. ‘May I have your word that you’ll leave Miss Titus alone?’

  ‘I am not one of your aspiring protégés,’ Gage replied with a degree of insouciance that surprised him. No one denied him, hadn’t denied him for years. ‘I don’t need your plums. I can do as I please.’ Gage gave him an assessing stare that rivalled one of his own as the man began to pace, laying out his argument. ‘I am already ruined by society’s definition—a man with no prospects beyond a gentleman’s modest horse farm in Sussex. There is nothing you can take from me. Neither is there anything you can give me. I have no ambitions like Jeremy Giltner.’

  Gage had nerve, Brockmore would give him that. At the moment, Gage thought he had bested him. The duke fought back a smile. He’d let the man savour his victory for a minute. It wouldn’t last longer than that. Gage had made a mistake if he thought he had nothing of value. Everyone had something. Still, he was impressed with a man who would stand up to him so boldly. Perhaps there was more to Gage than met the eye.

  Brockmore crossed his arms. ‘Let’s be blunt, Mr Gage. Every man has something to lose and you do too. I know about your sister, Adeline. I know that she doesn’t see anyone any more, literally.’ He watched the shock move across Gage’s face before the man could master it. He hated doing it this way, hated seeing Gage realise his efforts had failed, but a man like Gage had to be dealt with the way an alpha wolf dealt with mavericks in a pack.

  He knew from his own research how hard Gage worked to keep his sister private, separate from his life in London and safe. For the most part, Gage had been successful. Few people knew he had a sister. It explained why Gage’s rather scandalous behaviours never touched her. No one knew it could or should. To all but a few who knew him, Gage was a lone wolf with no real family. Even fewer knew about her disability. A fever had stolen her sight over the last two years. She was completely blind now.

  ‘My sister is well, your Grace.’ Gage was tense now, watching, waiting for him to strike, alert that something was afoot, but he was not entirely on the defensive yet. He wasn’t afraid to fight, which was admirable even if it was annoying. The duke was used to people crumbling at the first sign of pressure. ‘My sister walks to the village, she works with all her charities. She is quite self-sufficient.’

  ‘I am sure she is,’ Brockmore said congenially. ‘Thanks to you. You can create her self-sufficiency with your income and your nearness. She lives in your home, doesn’t she? You pay her bills? It might be a bit harder to help her sustain that independence should you be exiled to France.’ He had Gage cornered. This should be the end game, but Brockmore found himself wondering what the man would do. Gage had surprised him thoroughly already.

  ‘If I don’t leave Zara Titus alone, you will exile me from England?’ Gage paraphrased coolly.

  ‘I am not entirely heartless. You do have a choice.’ The duke held up his hands and gave a chuckle. ‘If you ignore my dictates and publicly compromise Miss Titus, you could always marry her. Markham would be disappointed, but perhaps I could find Markham another. I would make it worth your while; a match for your sister, a financially secure gentleman who can provide her the servants she needs to live her self-sufficient life.’ It was the one thing Gage was unable to provide for his sister—a match. Brockmore studied him, watching for signs of defeat and acceptance; a slouch of the shoulders, the lowering of the eyes.

  But Kael got to his feet, his gaze direct and stormy. ‘I am not going to sit here and be bribed into complicity.’

  ‘Come now, it’s hardly a bribe. Consider it a wedding gift. Don’t tell me the idea of marrying Zara yourself hasn’t crossed your mind. She’s rich and you need the money. She’s beautiful and well connected. You can’t pretend she doesn’t tempt you and you certainly tempt her. You might as well maximise your take and get something for your sister as well out of it.’

  Brockmore waited, counting a long ten seconds in his head as silence stretched between them. ‘You want to tell me to go to hell, don’t you, Gage? You want to tell me that you’re no man’s puppet.’ He gave a rueful smile. ‘But you can’t. You have something to lose after all. It’s one thing to burn bridges for yourself, especially if you’re a man. But it’s another thing to burn bridges for someone else, especially if that someone is Adeline.’

  Brockmore pushed off his desk with a fatherly smile. It was all settled now, as he knew it would be. ‘I see we understand each other, Gage. It’s a good man who looks out for his sister.’ He clapped a hand on Gage’s shoulder, ushering him towards the door. Gage was interesting, but his allotted time was up. There were other men to massage into compliance waiting to be seen.

  Brockmore smiled and lowered his voice. ‘One more thing, Gage. No more swimming holes with my female guests. You were lucky today. You won’t be again.’ He winked. ‘I have eyes and ears everywhere, Gage.’ At the door he paused, his hand still on Gage’s shoulder. ‘Are you racing on Thursday? I hear your stallion, Merlin, is a prime goer.’

  ‘I thought to,’ Gage replied neutrally.

  ‘You should. There are prizes that might interest you: breeding rights with my stallion or a pick of new foals next year.’ Brockmore smiled. Gage couldn’t quite hide the light of interest in his eyes.

  Brockmore watched him leave. The party was certainly getting interesting. The Titus girl was perfect for Markham and Markham was doing his part. But Zara didn’t seem to be reciprocating with the predicted enthusiasm. Her mother had assured him Zara would do the practical thing, but after the last few days, Brockmore was no longer sure she would. She seemed attracted to Gage, who was entirely unsuitable for her, but he could change that. Zara’s own father could change that. A few words in the right ears and Gage could be respectable. Her dowry would make him wealthy. Then again, perhaps it was just Gage’s image as an outsider that drew her in at the moment. How deep did her attraction run?

  Brockmore chuckled to himself and signalled for his next appointment. This was an intriguing little game he’d set in motion by giving Zara Titus a choice. Would she pick Gage or Markham? Would Gage play the game? If he did, the rewards would be great. In his opinion, Gage couldn’t afford not to play, but then again, Gage had shown himself to be his own man more than any man here. Brockmore winced and amended his thought. Except for Fergus Kennedy, who was proving to be a downright independent pain in the arse. Their last exchange had bordered on angry and he was not looking forward to their next. Matchmaking was getting harder every year. Maybe he was getting too old for this. He laughed at the thought. Never. This was what he thrived on: the business of love.

  * * *

  Her mother was angrier than she let on. Zara saw it in her movements as she paced the floor of the bedroom. The usually calm Lady Aberforth was furious. ‘You were with him!’ Of course that was her mother’s biggest concern, not that her daughter had lied to her, but that she’d been with an unsuitable gentleman. Zara secretly thought if she’d sneaked out to meet Markham, her mother wouldn’t be carrying on. Then again, Markham would never agree to such a thing.

  Zara sat on the bed, looking at her hands and feeling embarrassingly like a recalcitrant five-year-old caught stealing biscuits from the kitchen. She couldn’t deny it. Her hair was wet. She’d thought to dry it when she’d returned, but her mother had been waiting for her. ‘Yes, I was with him.’ Why deny it? She didn’t want to. Kael’s words, ‘the price is worth it’, were still strong in her mind, the feel of his hand over hers as he’d talked of the beauty and price of freedom. In her heart, she knew Kael would be proud of those five words. They were her first public assertion of re
bellion. Now, someone knew what she’d been up to.

  Her mother stopped pacing and drew a deep breath. She faced Zara, her expression hard. Her tone was matter of fact. ‘What do you know of Mr Gage? Nothing! Because there is nothing to know, nothing worthwhile. While you’ve been out playing, I’ve been gathering information. Brockmore tells me he owns a small horse farm and a cottage in Sussex. He is a horse breeder, a minor country gentleman, Zara.’ She said the words with horror as if he carried a contagious disease. ‘You have been dallying with a man who might as well be a commoner.’

  ‘He didn’t tell me.’ Zara smiled dreamily. A horse farm sounded heavenly. Why hadn’t he told her when she’d mentioned how much she wanted to ride? ‘I love horses.’

  ‘Of course he didn’t tell you,’ her mother spat out. ‘It’s so embarrassing to admit to it. He probably thought you would have nothing more to do with him. And rightly so.’ The viscountess’s eyes narrowed, her hands on slim hips. ‘He is so far beneath you, Zara, his unsuitability should be obvious. He’s not one of us.’

  ‘That is unfair!’ Zara snapped, her head coming up. She would take her scold for disobedience because, while it had been worth it for an afternoon alone with Kael, it was simply true. She’d broken her word and lied to her mother about her headache. But she would not sit here and let her mother malign Kael. ‘Just because he doesn’t have as much money as we do doesn’t mean he isn’t a good man.’

  Her mother gave a harsh laugh. ‘Stop being naïve, Zara. Do you know why he’s here at all?’ It was a rhetorical question only. Her mother went on to provide an answer. ‘He’s here on the duke’s good graces, as a favour to Jeremy Giltner. This is nothing more for him than a repairing lease from London because of potential scandal.’ Zara caught her mother’s knowing sideways glance. ‘I’m sure he didn’t tell you that either.’

  Her good feelings, her strength and conviction were starting to deflate, just a little. She stiffened her resolve. She would not let her mother crack her defences so soon, but it was hard to dispel doubts. What else hadn’t Kael told her? ‘What does it matter, it’s not as if he’s offering to marry me.’ But what if he did? There would be more afternoons lying naked at the water’s edge talking about life, not worrying about propriety. There would be more pleasure. He would be hers to look upon always, a man who encouraged her to chase her dreams, to take the invitations life offered, and he would look at her with those dark eyes the way he had today.

  ‘That’s right, dear, it doesn’t matter, because it’s over.’ Her mother’s declaration cut into her thoughts. She sat and took Zara’s hand in her own, her tone softening. Zara knew what came next—the guilt. If anger and a scold failed to cajole an apology from her, this was her mother’s second line of defence. It was a pattern Zara knew well over the years. It was also usually successful. Her mother would be surprised. For the first time, she would not capitulate, not to anger, not to guilt. Freedom would be stronger than both. It had to be. You have to tell them before it’s too late. Kael was here with her, in her heart. She could be strong. No matter what he was or why he was here, he’d given her that.

  Her mother drew a long breath. ‘All right, my dear, you’ve had a little excitement. Kael Gage is a handsome man with a certain reputation. Your attraction to him and your curiosity are understandable. But it ends now. You were lucky you weren’t caught today by anyone who would expose you. What if you had been? Is Gage prepared to offer for you? You just said yourself that he isn’t. Even so, is that what you want? To throw yourself away on a man who can offer nothing after your father and I have given you everything? What can he possibly give you?’

  Pleasure, understanding, awakening not just to passion but to herself. Today was not the day to make that particular argument, not when the imprint of Kael’s touch, his mouth, were still fresh on her body, his words still burning in her mind. He could give her pleasure and she could give him the same. Her face gave her away. Her mother huffed.

  ‘I know what you’re thinking. No, don’t roll your eyes at me, young lady. You’re going to listen. You’ve had a few kisses, a few hot moments and he’s got his hand into your bodice. You’re thinking love, or what passes for it with a rogue like Gage, is enough to conquer the world with.’

  Oh, good heavens! Zara’s cheeks were on fire. This was absolutely the most embarrassing moment ever. It was even worse than the time her mother had explained her menses to her. Her mother, a viscount’s wife known for her exquisite manners, parties and social diplomacy, was using phrases like hot moments and hands getting in bodices. What did her mother know about getting hot? Oh—oh, no, no, no. Now it really was worse! Did her mother know? Zara couldn’t imagine her mother doing any of the things she’d done with Kael.

  Her mother was not finished. ‘Physical pleasure is not enough to make a marriage on. It will not feed you or clothe you, but it will, without a doubt, burn out and leave you with nothing.’ Her mother’s tone turned harsh. ‘One must have a great deal more in a husband than skill in bed.’

  ‘Mother!’ Zara gasped.

  ‘I’m sorry, Zara.’ Her mother smiled and reached out to touch her cheek. ‘I’ve shocked you. Remember, I was your age and in “love” once too. I know you’re struggling over Haymore and wanting things society doesn’t allow you. You are vulnerable. You want to make decisions, but you’re not equipped to make them, not really. This is when you need to let yourself be guided by those who know what’s best, not just for right now, but for twenty years from now, thirty years from now.’ She squeezed Zara’s hand. ‘It will work out in the end. I know, I’ve been there. My parents saw me through and we’ll see you through.’

  ‘If there isn’t love, what is there?’ Zara challenged. She didn’t want to disappoint her parents, but for the first time, it was more important she didn’t disappoint herself.

  ‘There’s respect and it’s a sight better than what passes for love any day,’ her mother said sternly. ‘Markham will give you plenty of that, Zara.’ He would. Her mother was right. But he would never inspire great passion in her, never bring her to a shattering release that left her boneless, never swim naked with her in a river on a hot summer’s day.

  That was the problem. After today, she knew what she was giving up if she settled for Markham. Kael Gage had ruined her for ‘nice’ men, in theory. He might as well do it in practice. Her mother would be disappointed to learn of that decision. This conversation had been designed to warn her away from Gage, to remind her how unsuitable he was, and what her responsibility was, all with the intent of driving her towards Markham. But just the opposite had happened. It had solidified her resolve to hold on to Kael and whatever he offered for as long as he offered it, even if it was only for five days. Zara did not think her mother would appreciate the irony.

  Chapter Eight

  Wednesday June 18th

  Brockmore Manor House Party

  Programme of Events

  A Morning of Strawberry-Picking

  A Celebration in Honour of the

  Second Anniversary of the

  Illustrious Military Victory at Waterloo

  Wellington was here! Zara and her mother entered the grand blue marine-themed drawing room on the stroke of seven to find that most of the guests were already assembled, everyone agog with excitement. Not even the extreme warmth of the room could wilt their enthusiasm. Zara had to admit to some small desire to see the famed hero of Waterloo, too.

  This was the anniversary of Wellington’s great victory and the duke had arranged a special celebration, complete with requisite heroes. The volume in the room steadily rose, everyone eager to talk with the officers Brockmore had invited to take part in the celebration, many who would stay for the remainder of the house party.

  Zara scanned the room. Wellington wasn’t among the guests yet. Kael Gage was, however, looking resplendent in dark evening clothes,
his hair pulled back in its usual fashion and a diamond stick pin winking in his cravat. Even in a room full of dashing men and uniforms, he managed to stand out. Her pulse raced just looking at him and she’d seen him only a few hours before. They’d spent the day together hunting strawberries at the picnic, much to her mother’s chagrin.

  Nothing short of outright rejection would appease her mother at this point and that was something Zara could not give her. There was a definite, growing tension between her and her mother since the ‘discussion’ Monday. A quiet tug of war had ensued. Whenever her mother manoeuvred to have them spend time with Markham, Zara pushed back. She’d made it clear to her mother today that if she had to sit with Markham at lunch, she’d be picking berries with Kael afterwards and she had.

  Zara smiled a little to herself. They’d done more than pick berries and it reaffirmed that her choice was the right one. If Kael could only be hers for a short time, she wanted all she could have of him. But it had also played a torturous game with her psyche. What if she could have more than three more days with him? After all, what did this rebellion mean if it only lasted the party? A future with Kael was a dangerous path for her thoughts to take, indeed. She knew she was setting herself up for disappointment. She hadn’t forgotten that not all was perfect. He had not told her about his farm, or about London. He might kiss like sin, but he had secrets and they must be considered. But still, the temptation to disregard them was great.