Lady Priscilla's Shameful Secret

by Christine Merrill

  ‘She does not wish me to act, either,’ Hendricks said, with an ironic smile. ‘She was uncharacteristically sure of that fact. It surprised me. Six months ago, I swear she’d have wanted the two of us brawling in the street for her amusement. It seems our Priscilla has developed a heart—due to her association with you, perhaps. But the real question still remains: why Gervaise has returned, after all this time, and why is he eager to renew the acquaintance? The man should not be here. I threatened his life.’ Hendricks sighed. ‘If I find him, I shall have to call in that particular marker, no matter what Priscilla wishes.’

  One such as Hendricks did not say to a duke, ‘Stand up for your woman and your honour, or I shall have to do it for you.’ But there it was. Robert transferred the onus back to the other man. ‘Your threat must not have been very convincing, if he was willing to disregard it and come back to London.’

  ‘Very effective at the time, I assure you,’ Hendricks said, indignantly. ‘I punched him repeatedly on the nose. And I told him there would be no money, which was the only thing he truly cared about. I suspect that someone else has tracked him down and offered a sum that outweighed the risk.’

  ‘And who might do that?’ Robert said, with a half-smile.

  ‘The same sort of person that would share his presence with the papers to destroy a lady’s chances with a powerful peer.’

  ‘I could think of several that might consider it.’ Three, actually. Of the young ladies he had given his specific attentions to before he had met Priscilla, one had already announced an engagement. The second did not seem mean spirited enough, nor fixed in her affections upon him. ‘My money would be on Char Deveril’s family.’

  Hendricks gave a laugh of surprise. ‘You would win the bet, I am sure. Some day, when I am in my cups, I must tell you the connection I have with Miss Deveril. If she knows the full story, she has more than one reason to thwart the future of Lady Priscilla. But freeing up a fat pigeon such as yourself would be more than enough.’ Hendricks thought for a moment, and added, ‘Your Grace.’

  Robert waved it off. ‘The title hardly fits. There is nothing graceful about the way I handled this. My only excuse is that my blood was up, at the thought of her with that…’ He still could not think clearly on the subject. ‘I am not usually so passionate about such things. I certainly had not meant to be. A decision about who to take to wife should not be based on such strong emotions.’

  ‘There are many who would tell you just the opposite.’

  ‘Then they would be blockheads. I acted no better than she did when I saw her with Gervaise. I hurt her. This letter is because she thought I wished to cast her off. She was saving herself some pride by taking the lead, and, strangely enough, it has rebounded upon me. She’s admitted her lack of virtue and proven that she is unable to behave properly or manage the scandal attached to her name. She has given me a perfectly legitimate way to avoid an inappropriate match, yet I feel even worse than I did before.’

  Hendricks nodded. ‘Perhaps you were right about a surfeit of emotion. It would be very difficult for her to be married to a man who so dwelt upon her past mistakes that he was willing to throw them unexpectedly back in her face and doubt her after she had pledged herself to him.’

  Damn the man for agreeing with him. He’d found a way to turn subservience into a knife in the back and to twist the blade in the wound. ‘But I would not be that man,’ he insisted. ‘I know well enough how hard it is to live down one’s past. I was thought to be a bit of a blockhead in school; boys being what they are, the fellows around me used every chance to remind me of it. When I came of age, I was only too happy to walk away from the lot of them. But now?’ Now he was back in the thick of his old enemies and would have to be so for the rest of his life. And much as he might try to pretend it didn’t matter, each session of Parliament would bring back all the old memories even if he did prove that he was no longer a weeping schoolboy.

  None of which he needed to share with Hendricks. He froze those thoughts in their place, pushing them back, out of the way. ‘Let us just say that I understand Priscilla better than most. I would tell her so.’ He gave Hendricks a piercing Reighland look. ‘If only I knew of some way to contact her.’

  Hendricks frowned. ‘She will not see you, nor anyone else. I have her permission to offer all explanations that needed making, or I would not have spoken as much as I have. If you wish to send a message, I will attempt to relay it. But I will not guarantee that she will listen. Nor I will not let you speak directly with her. I suspect that pretty words would merely upset her and I will not have that.’ Hendricks was looking at him now, with none of the subtlety he usually saved for his betters. It was a clear challenge to someone he deemed a threat to his wife’s family.

  ‘Perhaps you are thinking of another man, Hendricks. I have never been known to have a surfeit of pretty speeches.’ But much as he had always relied upon them, silence and denial had proven worthless. ‘In a case like this, actions are necessary. But she will not know of them, if she thinks to hide in her room.’ He thought for a moment, then said, ‘If you could persuade her to attend the gathering at the Deverils’ house, as she planned to before this hubbub, I will see to it that it is a most diverting evening.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  ‘Get up off that bed this instant, Priscilla, and stop being ridiculous. It is nothing more than a little party. And in the home of one of your oldest friends.’ It was strange that several weeks had changed little more than the person standing in the doorway to scold her. Comparing the two, Priss much preferred Dru to Ronnie. There was an undercurrent of love in her sister’s commands that had been absent from her stepmother’s.

  Priscilla stared at the ceiling of her borrowed bedroom without moving. ‘Charlotte Deveril is no friend of mine.’ She was almost sure of the fact. ‘Char was watching in the hall when I ran from Reighland. What better reason for that than that she orchestrated the whole thing?’

  ‘But why would she want to do anything so terrible?’ Dru asked, proving that marriage had left her surprisingly naïve to the ways of society.

  ‘Because she wished to discredit me with Reighland. The moment I gave it back, she was probably searching his pockets for my betrothal ring.’ She should have not used a possessive, when speaking of it. It did not even truly belong to Robert. But for the two weeks she had worn it, she had never owned a piece of jewellery that felt so rightly hers. ‘If Char still wishes me to come to her house, it is merely to gloat over the fact that she has snared him and to laugh when I embarrass myself again.’

  Dru nodded. ‘It is good to see that you have become wiser in the months that we have been apart. Char was never a friend to you and tonight she will most assuredly make mischief.’

  Priss tossed on the bed, flopping on to her stomach like a rag doll, and moaned into the pillow. ‘Then you can see why I do not wish to go.’

  ‘On the contrary, that is exactly why you must go. How else will you prove to her that she cannot affect you? You are worth two of her and are the daughter of an earl as well.’ Drusilla sounded quite like the martinet she used to be.

  Then Dru paused and bit her lip. ‘And if she is angry at you? There is a chance that I had something to do with it. Mr Hendricks and I met her on the road to Scotland. It is rather a long story, but it ended with her kissing Mr Hendricks and me stealing her purse.’

  ‘You did not,’ Priss said, eyes wide with surprise.

  ‘I am sorry if I created a problem for you,’ Dru said. ‘But please do not tell me that you mean to let that horrible girl get the better of us. Now get up off your bed and finish dressing. I will give you no choice in the matter.’

  ‘Do you mean to sit in the corner, as you always used to, to make sure that I do not spoil the evening?’ When they had gone about together before she married, Dru had been a steadfast but dis
approving companion. However, to be honest, Priss had given her many reasons to disapprove.

  Today, when she smiled, the old Silly was gone, replaced by the fashionable Mrs Hendricks. ‘Of course not. I mean to dance and leave you to settle your own affairs. Like it or not, Priss, you are a woman now and must learn to find your own way. If you cannot have Reighland, then you must at least see that she does not. The Benbridge family honour is at stake.’

  ‘But mightn’t my appearance there cause trouble for Mr Hendricks? I have become a public joke, Dru. I will be an embarrassment for him.’

  ‘Whether you come with us or not, people will ask after you. And I do not mean to hide in my house on a night when my stomach is settled enough to go out. You were merely silly when you were younger,’ Dru reminded her. ‘Now?’ She shrugged. ‘You are a notorious fallen woman.’

  Priss thought for a moment, then said, ‘I believe you are right. I have taken a lover, jilted a duke and been disowned by my father. Short of becoming an opera dancer, there is not much lower to fall.’

  ‘And to my knowledge, Char has not rescinded your invitation to this ball, nor have you sent regrets. It might be quite embarrassing for her to see you.’

  ‘Embarrassing for her?’ Priss gave a laugh that was more confident than she felt. ‘She is nothing more than a common gossip. And have you ever seen her ride? Reighland could never marry her. He would be miserable.’

  ‘Then you had best go to the Deverils’ to tell him so,’ Dru agreed. ‘At the very least, we shall laugh at his impending misfortune. Now come to my wardrobe and let us choose a gown.’ Dru searched through her gowns and held out a pale-rose cambric. ‘This has never flattered me, but will do for you if we pin up the hem.’

  Priss pushed it out of the way and pointed. ‘Let us try that one instead. Crimson satin and far too old for me.’

  Dru smiled in approval. ‘It is scandalously low as well. And here is proof of what a horrible chaperon I was, for I think it will suit you perfectly.’

  ‘I agree. If I am destined to be notorious, It is high time that I started looking the part.’

  * * *

  Priss entered the ballroom a few polite steps behind her sister and Mr Hendricks, to receive the cool welcome of Mrs Deveril and her aunt, who was a dowager countess. The sweeping glance she received through the elderly lady’s lorgnette said it all. She was not so much a guest here as a curiosity to be gawked at.

  She responded with the chilly smile her father would have used on such an occasion and turned away to survey the crowd. She saw Reighland across the room, surrounded as he always had been with eager mamas and pretty young ladies forced into introductions. He stood a head taller than anyone in his crowd, looking as always like some great bull mastiff surrounded by a tumble of puppies.

  He was magnificent. How could she not have noticed it from the first? She still could not lie to herself enough to call him handsome. But he was powerful: socially, politically and, Lord help her, physically. She could still remember the way it had felt to have him inside of her.

  Even now, she could feel the vitality of him calling to her. It gave her a strange ache that was both sweet and sad, when she thought of him. It was like grieving. But while the loss might be irrevocable, she could not imagine trading the brief and intense pleasure of their acquaintance for an end to her current pain.

  I will always love you, Robert. The thought came to her, pure and simple like a single monument in a barren field. No matter what might become of her, no matter what great destiny awaited him, she could look back on their few weeks together as a bright, shining moment in her past, where her life had seemed truly right and proper.

  Judging by his sudden start and hurried attention to anywhere but the door of the ballroom, he had seen her as well. He might pretend not to notice, but he was aware of her presence, she was sure. She wondered if he felt the same, or if he was already tucking away the memories of her, like toys that had lost their glitter.

  She turned away, vowing that she would not go to him, though she wanted to stumble across the room like a lovesick girl and take her place in the mob that pressed in upon him. Her recent actions had permanently closed the doors of the marriage mart for her. She was infamous. And while many opinions might be formed about her, no one would think of her as an innocent, or a girl.

  Then she watched the crowd part around her. Though the crush was quite overwhelming, it seemed that she was to be allowed space, as though the other ladies were afraid of coming too close. She was tempted to announce that, despite what they might think, dishonour was not a contagious condition, but then she saw the reason for it. Although it would have been nearly impossible to force her way across the room to Robert, there was an open corridor in the crowd that, if she followed it, would lead straight to Gerard Gervaise.

  The usual wave of nervous nausea she felt when she looked at him was replaced with righteous anger. It did not particularly surprise her that Char Deveril would drag her own honour through the mud by inviting him here, if it meant there would be another chance to laugh at Priss’s expense. But it was unfair to involve Robert in it. She was meant to be trotted out like a puppet and forced into Gervaise’s company, while the ton reminded the Duke of Reighland of the dangers of choosing an unsuitable wife who would shame him at any opportunity.

  But she had nothing left to lose and did not need to play those games any longer. She would not stand by and let Robert be hurt by this scene. Not tonight. Not ever. She turned without a word and went down the hall to the retiring rooms. That way would lead to the library, and the door opposite would take her to the front hall and out the door. She would find the Hendricks carriage, if she could, and sit in it until her sister was ready to depart. And if not? She would walk the distance to their house. She had done it once and would do it again, even if it was a hundred miles.

  Her exit would be as grand as her entrance had been. She gave a single look of disgust in the direction of her old dancing master, turned with a swish of skirts and marched from the ballroom. She did not hurry. Hurrying was unseemly, at least until she was sure that no one would see it. Then she would be gone from this place, back to her bedroom where she could cry in peace.

  ‘Running?’

  ‘Robert!’ He moved quietly for one so large. She had not heard him approach. But he must have moved with some speed to be able to cross the room and be ahead of her already. If her exit had gone unnoticed, his most surely had caused a scene. He stepped in front of her, ending all hopes of escape.

  ‘Your Grace,’ she corrected, giving him the respect due a peer. The days of thinking of him as her darling Robert were firmly at an end. She could not allow his sudden appearance to fluster her into rudeness.

  He bowed in response, just as formal, while swallowing the hitch in his breath from what must have been a full-speed tilt across a crowded room. ‘Lady Priscilla.’ But he made no move to step out of her way, seeming to block the whole of the corridor between her and the front door.

  Now that she was facing him, she could not find a single word to say. What thought could she express that would not result in immediate and very public tears? She stood there, open mouthed, staring beyond him at the sliver of view still left.

  ‘I asked if you were running away,’ he said again. His voice was pitched low, yet it still seemed unusually loud.

  ‘Just seeking air,’ she said, staring at his feet. ‘I feel…unwell.’ That was perfectly true, at least. ‘And now, if you will excuse me…’ She made to go past him.

  ‘No, I will not.’ His fingers closed on her gloved wrist. He glanced down at the hand, rubbing his thumb gently against the inside of her arm. ‘You are not wearing the gloves that I sent you.’

  ‘They are in my father’s house,’ she said, ‘and therefore lost to me. I expect he has burned them by now, along with the res
t of my clothes. I proved a great disappointment to him.’

  ‘I will buy you another pair.’

  ‘And I will not accept them. It would not be proper.’ Buy them for Char, you idiot, she wanted to scream, but leave off tormenting me.

  ‘Then I will not.’ He smiled. ‘As you know, I would not wish to do anything improper. But neither will I allow you to leave.’

  ‘Do you wish me to stay and be tortured for your amusement? I have let you go. Isn’t that enough?’

  ‘No. I find that it is not.’ He looked sad and his grasp slipped down her hand until they were touching only fingertip to fingertip. ‘Have you thought, even for a moment, that perhaps I am torturing myself? It is quite a blow to my pride to see the two of you together. He is a most insubstantial fellow.’

  ‘Do you not understand the embarrassment that awaits us both if I stay? Please allow me to leave so that you do not have to witness a meeting I did not arrange.’

  ‘But that will spoil your fun,’ he said, stubbornly.

  ‘There is nothing enjoyable about this, because there is nothing between Gervaise and myself,’ she said firmly. ‘You wanted me to manage the scandal when last we talked. And I am avoiding his company, just as a lady ought. You can hardly expect me to be responsible for wounds to your pride.’

  ‘This has nothing to do with your responsibility for my feelings. I simply wished you to know of them.’ He stepped closer to her, until she was convinced that she could feel the heat of his body. ‘But I want you to know that the sight of you in the same room with him drives me mad with jealousy.’ He put his hand upon her shoulder; she felt the palm burning hot against her skin.