Portrait of a Scandal

by Danielle Lisle

  “After the luncheon, will you meet me in the garden?” he whispered against her ear.

  She did not answer and simply rode for his groom.

  Thomas’ groom hurried forward when he noted their approach. “My Lord?”

  “He stumbled, O’Malley, and went lame,” Thomas said, handing over the reins.

  “Certainly, my Lord. I will see to him.”

  “Thank you,” Thomas called, since the boy was already fussing over his stallion.

  “Will you, Nel?” he asked again.

  “Thank you for the invitation, my Lord, but I will not.”

  From this angle, he saw the gentle stretch of her neck as she raised her chin. He flicked his gaze to her pinned hair, some of which was visible beneath her hat. But it was the dismissive and firm tone of her voice that triggered a memory in him. One that made him frown.

  “My boy! What happened to your steed?” Lord Kilbride called as he hurried over, pulling Thomas out of his haphazard thoughts.

  “He went lame. Your daughter was kind enough to assist me,” Thomas answered, his mind suddenly distracted by another moment in time.

  Her father sighed and gave a shrug. “These things happen. It was lucky Nel was there. If she had not been, you might have been walking back on your own two feet through the bog.” The man shook his head in displeasure.

  Thomas gave a nod, still eyeing the woman before him. “I am indeed fortunate.”

  Her father nodded, seeming to be waiting for something. Thomas realised it was likely Lord Kilbride awaited his dismount from behind his daughter. Thomas swung off the large grey and gave Nellie a slight bow, not allowing his eyes to leave hers once they had made contact.

  “Thank you and your steed for your assistance today. I am most grateful,” he said, if not a bit tightly.

  “You are welcome, my Lord,” she said with a nod, then turned away and cantered off towards her groom, who was waiting by the stable block.

  He watched her ride away—the elegant flow of her body as she moved, one with the horse. She was indeed a diamond, but a deceitful diamond nonetheless. He felt the lord’s presence still and turned to the man. Thomas was surprised by the hard look on her father’s features. It was only as the man’s gaze flicked to his breeches that he realised why.

  * * * *

  Thomas had not been surprised when Lord Kilbride had asked him to walk around the gardens that afternoon.

  As they walked along the winding path that branched off from the oak road with the lord’s faithful hounds in tow, the man finally spoke.

  “You and my Nel seem to get along well,” the older man commented, his walking cane hitting the ground in front of him as they strolled. His voice was clear and showed no signs of anger but there was curiosity laced through his words.

  Thomas watched one of the hounds race off after a bird which flew from a low branch. “I think that is a very optimistic assessment, my Lord.”

  Nellie’s father cast him a bland look. “Really? You seem keen on her.”

  “I admit I find her…” He paused as he thought of the right adjective for the man’s daughter. Luscious and delectable were both fair assessments, but not ones to be spoken around a father. Yet, also the description ‘devious’ came to mind. He sighed. “I find I enjoy her company, no matter how much she attempts to deter me.” In more ways than one.

  Her father laughed. “Yes, I think you are a brave man for staying this long.” He then stopped and turned to Thomas. “Lad, I think you need to understand something of my Nel. I love her dearly and while I yearn to see her wed, I will not allow her to go to a home which will not make her happy.”

  Thomas frowned. “Are you implying you believe my home would not make your daughter happy?”

  “I may be old, but I am not blind to the gossip of the ton. I was young once myself and I had my fun, but when I found Nel’s mother I never looked at another woman again. Could you be a faithful husband, lad? Because if you could not, I do not think my Nel is the woman for you. She would not stand for it, and nor would I.” His tone hardened on his last few words.

  Thomas processed this and understood. “To be honest, my Lord, I had worked enough of that out for myself.”

  “You have spoken with her about a betrothal, then?”

  “No,” Thomas said with a shake of his head. “I have, however, received the impression from her thus far that she is not to be trifled with, nor would she tolerate it. But for your own peace of mind, I wish to inform you that my bed, once I marry, will only be open to my wife, no other.”

  “And are you looking to marry, lad?”

  “I am, though I have found the task of finding a bride to be rather vexing. Lady Nellie is the first woman I have found whom I could envision spending my days with,” he added honestly. He felt the old man would not think of him favourably without offering more.

  That thought stopped Thomas cold. Did he want to be thought of favourably by this man? Had he decided on Nel? It was odd, but he believed so. “Forgive my bluntness, but is your estate well?”

  Lord Kilbride blinked. “Now it is, yes.” He sighed. “Though until recently it was not. Since you have showed me some honesty, I suppose it would be ill of me not to do the same.

  “When my wife died, I did not cope well. The bottom of a bottle was all that dulled the pain of losing my true love. Nel, my angel, saved us. She worked with my man of business and returned the estate and our holdings to what they were before I mismanaged them—and us—to near ruin. She is not only a brave girl—she is a smart one as well.”

  “Yes,” Thomas said. “She is indeed.”

  * * * *

  Nodding to the footman who opened the door to her father’s library, Nellie entered with a smile on her face. “Father, you wished to…?” She froze midsentence when she noticed the man standing by the settee. It was not her father. “Forgive me, Lord Sterling, I had been told my father wished to see me.”

  Thomas studied her with an odd look. “No, it was I who asked for you.”

  “Oh?” She reluctantly moved forward and took a seat as he gestured.

  “Yes. I wanted to speak with you,” he said as he took a seat across from her.

  She said nothing, merely waited. What could he have to speak with her about? Nellie’s mind went ragged with assumptions. He did not seem angry, so he had yet to discover her shame, for which she was thankful. While Nellie had worried that this knowledge would bring dishonour to her father, she did not believe Thomas would seek to destroy someone in vengeance. He seemed kinder, softer than she had expected, in a way she wasn’t certain she understood. The duke, on the other hand, he was indeed a different story. Reprisal would be that man’s pleasure.

  Thomas was different to the duke—more humble, in truth. That was a thought that did not sit well with her, as she did not want to think of him favourably, but sadly she had started to, despite her best efforts.

  “I have been in discussions with your father this morning and we have settled upon an agreement, pending your approval.”

  “Oh? And how do I factor into a matter of business, my Lord?” she asked, her curiosity growing more and more as the moments passed.

  He smiled and his eyes sparkled with amusement. “I thought we agreed to be more familiar, Nel?”

  She sighed. “Very well, Thomas. What could this matter have to do with me?”

  “It is about you.”

  That caught her attention and she felt her brow pucker. “Me?”

  “Yes. I have informed your father of my intention to seek your hand.”

  Nellie sat there, stunned. His wife? Oh, God, no!

  “I can see this comes as a surprise to you, though I have little idea why. Clearly you felt my desire for you today?”

  Nellie shook her head in an effort to clear her mind. “Thomas, you are a man who can easily fulfil his desires without the need to wed to achieve them.”

  “The ton gossip has reached your ears,” he stated, watching her inten
tly. “I do not plan to deny any of it, as much of it surely holds truth. I do, however, intend to state my intentions for the future. My wife will be my only lover from thus forth.”

  Again, she shook her head in denial, trying to clear the sudden assault of images flooding her mind. His affectionate hands running over her body, his warm tongue as it rasped around her aroused nipples, his fingers delving into the heat of her core. Oh, my!

  “I cannot understand why you would seek me as your bride.”

  “You are smart and while your tongue is sharp, I must admit I admire your mind. While I may not always agree with you, I will attempt to respect your views. Is that not what you want in a husband?” he asked.

  “I also want his love.”

  He watched her thoughtfully. “Love is a strong emotion. While I will not claim it, I can claim a strong fondness for you. I care for you more than I have any other woman, in truth. Well, apart from my mother—and while it is love I feel for her, I am sure that the love of a wife and lover is somehow entirely different to that felt for a mother.”

  He cared for her?

  Concern lined his face as he knelt down before her. He raised his hands to her cheeks and brushed away tears. She had not even realised she was crying.

  “This makes you sad? My desire to wed you?” he asked with narrowed eyes. He seemed harder at this moment than he had been with her these last few days. Should a man not appear softer when he proposed? Perhaps he worried for her answer? It was all so confusing.

  “Yes,” she croaked out.

  “Why?”

  “Because I cannot marry you,” she said with regret, because all of a sudden, the man for whom she had held nothing but contempt now seemed very appealing.

  He frowned but did not remove his hands from her face. “And why can you not marry me? Do you not care for me? Or is it because of the ton gossip? I have already assured your father of my faithfulness to my future wife.”

  Her breath hitched in a sob. He said that now, but could he honour it? Could a man who had spent so many evenings in different women’s beds truly settle only for only his wife’s? “No, it is not that,” she said and tried to turn away from him, but he did not allow it. Could he see her doubt?

  “Then what is it?”

  “If you knew all I have done during my life, you would not want me,” she whispered.

  His eyes looked fiercely into hers, but there was suddenly a softness in them too. “Then tell me.”

  She shook her head. “I cannot. I will never tell you.”

  He gave a small sigh, but nodded. “If that is your wish. But answer me this. Are you virginal?”

  She reeled back. “Of course I am!” she gasped, and slapped his hand away from her face. How could he think that of her? She was not like the duke’s daughter!

  He huffed out a laugh, his lips curving into a smile. “Then that is all I need to know of you. I see no reason why we cannot wed. I care for you, as you seem to care for me. I will not hold your past against you, as you will not mine,” he added meaningfully. “We will wed, yes?”

  She blinked back more tears. “You don’t know what I’ve done.” He would never want her if he knew. How could she live with it, the worry of him finding out? And what if he did? Would he divorce her? That would bring nothing but shame to her father. She could never do that to him.

  “It is irrelevant. I want you as my wife. Do you want to be with me, be my wife?”

  Did she? Yes, she did. Odd as it all seemed, she wanted to be with him. But it would kill her inside. Oh, why was it that, when a man finally sought her hand, a man she could have grown to love, he was the very man she could never accept? “I am sorry, Thomas. I—”

  “Do you want to marry me?” he asked firmly.

  “I… I can’t.”

  “That is not what I asked.”

  The door behind them opened and her father strolled in, flicking his gaze between the two of them. “A man proposes and you cry?” he asked, and sighed. “I shall never understand women.”

  * * * *

  Geist nuzzled into her chest as she leaned on his stall door. Nellie raised a hand and rubbed the neck of the horse she adored. As if he felt her distress, he leaned into her, offering comfort. She accepted it willingly.

  “I thought I would find you here.”

  Nellie did not bother to turn at her father’s words. He knew her well. “You sought me, Father?”

  She heard his sigh as he came up beside her and patted Geist. “You’re scared.”

  She frowned. “I do not like him, Father,” she lied. She wanted to wallow in her self-pity, alone. She had turned down the only proposal she was ever likely to receive, but it was for the best. Thomas could never be happy with her, nor she with him. He was a rake! Mentally she shook her head, remembering his promised faithfulness to his future wife. She wanted to discount his words, but she did not believe him to be a liar. She held in a groan of frustration. Why did life have to be so cruel?

  Her father sighed again. “Nel, you care for him. I know this. You were nothing but rude to him from the first moment I introduced you.”

  “That is true, as I do not care for him.”

  “No, that is a lie,” he said in a bland tone, causing her to turn to him. He had his sharp eyes trained on her, and his lips were twitching slightly. “You care for him. It was the first thing I noticed about the two of you. Any of the gentlemen you truly do not care for, you simply ignore or feign interest in their conversations. With Thomas, he has your undivided attention and while you are cruel in your well-dressed replies, I know it is simply to protect yourself. It is why he aggravates you so. My courtship of your mother was not dissimilar.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “You never told me that about you and Mother.”

  He shrugged. “I had forgotten until I watched you and Thomas together. It reminded me so much of your mother and me.”

  “I do not understand why he asks for my hand, nor why he does not move on to a more eager lady.”

  “Because you intrigue him, just as your mother intrigued me. He is not likely a man who has encountered many women who do not flutter around him.”

  She gave a half laugh after trying and failing to imagine her father as a rake. A man who had been as devoted as her father had been towards her mother could never have trifled with multiple women’s affections.

  “Thomas cares for you. Do not discount that, Nel. We had a long talk, and I believe you know I would never agree to give my blessing to a man who I did not know for certain could make you happy.” He sighed. “I believe he would allow you to be yourself and not cage you, as many gentlemen would try to. I would hate to see your spirit broken, as I know you would hate for Geist’s to be if he were taken by another owner,” he said, as she stroked her horse’s sleek coat. “Thomas will not attempt to break you, Nel, I truly believe that. I wish for you to settle, but if you really believe that he will not make you happy, tell me now and we will not speak of this again. But know this, Nel—I will see you married before long. The next suitor I choose may not strike your interest at all.”

  Her gaze snapped to her father. “You would force me to marry a man I do not love?”

  “I will have you married before I die, Nel. Your mother’s illness was proof that life is fickle. I love you more than my own life and for that reason I will not see you grow into an old maid. You have too much beauty to be shunned and hold too much promise as a mother not to be given the opportunity. Thomas is a good man and I know you care for him, despite your fighting it. Consider your options.”

  Her father placed a tender hand on her shoulder before he leant down and kissed her forehead. Tears leaked from her eyes as she watched him exit the stables.

  Chapter Three

  The engagement was not a long one—three weeks, in fact. She had barely had time to settle into the idea of marrying a man who, if he knew the truth, would never want her. She was still, even on the day of her wedding, so very uncertain as to
whether she had made the right decision.

  She had spent more time with Thomas since the hunt. He had ridden to his family estate in Cambridge the day after she had accepted his proposal, and had returned regularly to see her. They had taken walks, and while he had been nothing but the perfect gentleman, Nellie had still felt his desire for her. It flowed from the man. Was hers as strong? Her father had never left them alone since their betrothal, so it was difficult to tell. If he had not accompanied them, her maid, Anne, had done.

  While Thomas had not spoken as boldly as he had on the hunt, he still seemed eager to hear her thoughts on certain subjects. It seemed he had spoken the truth—he did want to know what she had to say. Or was he simply humouring her? She had no idea. Was her father truly right in his assumption that Thomas would make her happy?

  It was today, on the day of their wedding, that Nellie felt most nervous. Guilt ate at her. She felt drawn to Thomas—he was the first man she had met who held any interest in her or seemed to truly listen to her opinions. He did not simply agree with her to please her—if he didn’t agree with her they quickly fell into a discussion, sometimes heated and sometimes more conversational. She adored those times. Her father, as dear as he was to her, usually agreed with her simply to please her, not counting that night in the stables. Thomas, however, did not seek to placate her with soft words. They engaged in conversations and she felt, day by day, that she could indeed have a future with this man. Love? Perhaps in time, but she felt a friendship was without a doubt already forming.

  It was the guilt, though, that always held her back. She worried he would discover it had been she who had taken the picture of him and Lady Mary. It had been she who had sold it to the paper and she who could have had them publicly exposed if it had not been for Carl’s greed—something she was now thankful for. Regardless of anything else, Nellie was glad the picture had never made it into the paper. In fact, to think of it now made her feel physically ill, the idea of Thomas with another woman pained her so.