Tarnished, Tempted And Tamed (Historical Romance)

by Mary Brendan

  As Miss Chapman was still seated and appeared to be entranced by her own reflection, the maid added, ‘Mr Wolfson is waiting for you in the morning room. Shall I arrange for tea?’

  ‘Umm...no... I believe his visit will be brief. Is my mother back?’ Fiona asked normally despite blood streaking so rapidly through her veins that she felt faint. Slowly she gained her feet, gripping the edge of the mahogany table and swaying into it for support until her knuckles turned white.

  ‘Not to my knowledge, Miss Chapman.’

  Fiona was glad that Maude and the duke were still out on a shopping excursion. She knew that Joan was with her friends, visiting an exhibition of Greek artefacts at a museum. In fact, Luke’s timing for a very private conversation between them could not have been better. Perhaps his mercenary’s propensity for meticulous preparation had made him plan it that way. But she was glad that there would be no witnesses and that she might have an hour or so in which to recover from this final parting.

  * * *

  When Fiona entered the morning room Luke stayed quite still for a moment, simply regarding her with hungry dark eyes. Then he relinquished his lounging position by the mantelpiece and strode to meet her, immediately taking her cool hands in his warm grip.

  ‘I’ve missed you,’ he said huskily, his fingers tightening on hers.

  ‘I’ve missed you, too,’ Fiona replied, believing him sincere. He seemed about to embrace her and, much as she yearned to have him do so, she slowly withdrew her hands and put distance between them. He looked wonderfully distinguished and handsome, as usual, but she knew the closer they were, the more he touched her, the harder it would be for her to say what she must. Several times she’d rehearsed this little farewell speech and her good wishes for his future, yet phrases slipped away to hide in the corners of her mind.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Luke asked bluntly, moving to a position where he could read her expression. ‘Are you cross that I’ve not turned up sooner?’ He gave her a boyish smile. ‘I’ve a good excuse for the delay.’

  ‘I’m sure you have...’ Fiona wouldn’t let rancour into her voice. He owed her nothing, not even an explanation for his tardiness. They both knew that his business was his own. The only offer he’d made was to care for her as his mistress.

  ‘Are you interested in hearing where I’ve been?’ Luke asked, plunging his hands into his pockets.

  ‘I have some news for you, actually,’ Fiona blurted, achieving a level, conversational tone. She could tell he was alert to her reserve despite her best efforts to conceal it. In turn, he’d become guarded. ‘It is a rather exciting and very unexpected turn of events.’ Fiona injected some lightness into her voice.

  Luke raised his thick eyebrows in polite enquiry, but Fiona sensed that he was brooding on the reason for the change in her. He had, unseen by family and friends, snatched a farewell kiss from her in a fleeting private moment before she’d boarded the coach at the Halfway House. Then he had mounted Star and, from a vantage point on the brow of a hill, had watched the cavalcade of Thornley vehicles till it disappeared from view. The blossoming intimacy and affection between them Fiona had hugged to herself like a warm shawl as the conveyance dipped and swayed over ruts on the final leg of the journey to town. But that serenity was gone now, crushed by reality. If she succumbed to the longing to be with him at any cost, she risked an intolerable future veering between joy and despair.

  ‘My mother has received a marriage proposal from the Duke of Thornley. She has accepted. The betrothal is not yet common knowledge so you are one of the first to be told. His Grace is to put an announcement in The Times at the end of the week.’

  ‘That is a surprise.’ Luke’s response held mild interest.

  Fiona was somewhat taken aback by his attitude. She knew him for a cool, undemonstrative man, nevertheless she’d expected more of a reaction than that. ‘So...it will affect me,’ she added briskly.

  ‘In what way?’ Luke asked, strolling to again prop a hand against the mantelshelf.

  ‘In...in the matter of...our attachment,’ Fiona stammered out, cringing inwardly at her jumbled explanation. She so wanted to match his composure. She elevated her chin, squarely met his attentive eyes. ‘You asked me to be your mistress on two occasions. I expect you have taken from my...affectionate responses...that I have tacitly agreed to your proposition and my words to the contrary were sham modesty.’ She plunged on quickly, as warmth fizzled in her cheeks. ‘I admit I was tempted to accept when everything in my life seemed turbulent, but now my circumstances have changed.’

  ‘And have your feelings for me changed?’ Luke’s tone was flinty. ‘Or are you simply trying to tell me that the stepdaughter of a duke deserves better than a retired army major?’

  ‘I am trying to tell you that being shunned by my family, and in time by you, sir, is what I find unacceptable,’ Fiona flared at him. Every good intention to remain logical and unruffled fled from her mind to be replaced by indignation.

  ‘You are able to easily turn your emotions on and off, are you?’ he asked quietly.

  ‘No...I am not!’ Fiona enunciated. ‘Brave you might think me, but I am human and have weaknesses. I cannot bear the hurt awaiting me if I turn my back on every code I’ve known. If I go with you I risk heartbreak and ostracism.’ Her tawny eyes raked his impassive features. ‘Do not cast me in the role of mercenary,’ she added in a suffocated whisper. ‘Or imply that I have misled you. That would be too rich, coming from you.’

  Luke glanced at his dark hand stark against the pale marble supporting it. ‘What has Becky Peake told you?’ His tone was pitilessly demanding.

  Fiona’s lips parted in surprise, then were pressed together in a mutinous line. Of course, he might have visited Becky and his friend Drew before coming to see her. Becky had been shamefully spiteful to her in the drapery so Fiona imagined that, of the two, Rockleigh might have mentioned witnessing the clandestine conversation between the two women.

  ‘What did the infernal woman say?’

  Luke strode towards her so fast that Fiona skittered backwards. Again he stopped himself touching her although she saw that he wanted to. His outstretched fingers were jerked back and rammed into his pockets.

  ‘I’ve had a report of your meeting from Drew so you might as well tell me.’

  ‘It matters little what we spoke about as I’d already heard the news she wanted to flaunt in my face. My mother told me about some gossip that is flying around town about your betrothal. Becky Peake merely confirmed she’d heard it, too, although apparently it doesn’t bother her one bit as she is confident of remaining your mistress when you take a wife.’

  But for a muscle tightening close to his mouth Luke would have appeared unmoved by what he’d heard. ‘I told you I had finished with Becky. Do you think me a liar?’

  ‘No...’ Fiona admitted faintly. ‘I think you were telling the truth and poor Becky isn’t happy about being put off.’

  Luke barked a laugh. ‘Poor Becky is already ensconced in an apartment owned by a young viscount. So her talk of undying devotion to me is far-fetched.’

  Fiona blushed. ‘I see... I’m sorry,’ she said automatically.

  ‘There’s no need to be. I’m happy she is settled so quickly. I believe Drew made the introduction—the viscount is a friend of his.’

  ‘Would that I had some of her spirit,’ Fiona muttered ironically.

  ‘Explain that...’

  She averted her face, but gave him his answer. ‘Becky saw a future with you as nothing to be afraid of, no matter what you chose to do, or who else you chose to spend it with.’

  ‘I imagine you are again hinting at me having once courted Miss Ponting. I recall telling you that I had never proposed. Do you think I have lied about that?’

  Fiona bit her lip, unable to remember Becky’s exact phrasing about Luke�
��s pursuit of a debutante. ‘Whether you fell to bended knee or not is unimportant—you wanted Harriet Ponting as your wife!’ she argued with renewed vigour. ‘Had she been receptive to your suit you would now be her husband.’

  ‘But she wasn’t and I’m not,’ Luke pointed out mildly. ‘There is nothing for you to take exception to...not even the fact that I briefly paid attention to a woman in my youth.’

  ‘Your youth?’ Fiona echoed sharply. ‘You are now thirty and chased after Miss Ponting not that long ago. I hardly think you were a green boy at the time.’

  ‘Very recently you accused me of being woefully immature... How much worse do you think I was when aged twenty-five?’ he asked with mordant self-mockery.

  The moral high ground seemed to be slipping away beneath her and Fiona keenly felt her lack of sophistication. ‘You think it all amusing, don’t you?’ she stormed, a teary sheen burnishing the gold in her eyes. ‘Well, I do not.’ She marched away from him, then swung about, quivering fingers clasped in front of her. ‘You’re right—you are still woefully immature. I am not a toy to be trifled with. I am a human being and deserve some consideration and respect. You might pick your mistresses on a whim and perhaps you also chose Miss Ponting with the same lack of care.’ Fiona edged up her chin, despite feeling utterly forlorn. ‘Thankfully her parents were vigilant on her behalf and I can look after myself. I will never accept such cavalier treatment from you or any other man.’

  ‘So...of what are you accusing me, Fiona?’ Luke asked. ‘You seem to think me fickle, incapable of true feelings...yet at the same time the idea of a serious past attachment to Harriet Ponting upsets you. Which is it you want me to be? A rogue or a gallant?’

  I want you to be only mine... Fiona bit her lower lip to prevent the plea exploding from her. She gasped in a calming breath. ‘I did not know that you might soon be wed.’ While gazing soulfully into his earthy brown eyes she blurted, ‘Did Miss Ponting break your heart when she rejected you? I have sensed on occasions that you feel hurt...bitter even...about something in your past.’

  In exasperation Luke turned his face up to the ceiling with a gesture of disbelief.

  ‘I’m sorry if you think it’s an impertinence to ask...but can you not see that it makes a difference? You should have told me if you are still brooding on another woman.’

  ‘I’m not bitter or brooding because of another woman...not in the way you mean, in any case,’ Luke said quietly, dark fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as though to ease his strain.

  ‘In what way then are you feeling bitter?’ Fiona persisted. For a moment she thought he would either ignore her question or take himself off. But again he raised his eyes, this time to moderate his expression rather than his temper. Suddenly he seemed steelier, master of his emotions.

  ‘You asked me once why I worked as a mercenary when I’d no need of the money.’ He glanced at her. ‘The truth is I did need the money from those endeavours...not to pay bills but for my own self-respect.’ He paced to and fro as though undecided whether to say more. ‘My grandfather bequeathed to me everything he owned and it was a considerable amount of cash and property. I was nine years old when he disinherited his son in favour of his grandchild. When I was twenty-seven I took what should have been my father’s birthright. By then it no longer mattered that my father had hated me from the moment I’d usurped him. All the family I’d known were dead...my benefactor the last to go.’

  Fiona became very still, shocked at what she’d heard. She was tempted to move to comfort him. But she feared if she did he’d bottle up the rest and she wished to ease the burden of his unhappy memories.

  ‘My father and grandfather had fallen out over a joint business venture that failed—cargo from the Indies that was lost in a storm. My father never recovered financially, but my grandfather made back his money and more besides. The rift between the men never healed and worsened when I was dragged into their fight.’ He studied the floor this time, stubbing the toe of a boot against the oak boards. ‘My mother blamed me and also my father and his kin for destroying our happy family and her comforts. She separated from my father although a divorce was out of the question. She took me to live in the Berkshire countryside with an elderly aunt of hers while my father stayed in the city.’ He paused. ‘I attended Harrow school, but was never invited to my father’s home. By the time I went up to Oxford he had been dead two years. He’d drunk himself close to death many times, but he couldn’t recover from tumbling down the stairs in a bawdy house.’ Luke gave a sour, reflective laugh. ‘I spent most school holidays with Drew and his family in Kent. The Rockleighs are fine people.’

  Fiona could not bear listening to the strengthening huskiness in his voice. She rushed to him, tentatively touched his arm, her heart squeezing when she felt the tension in him.

  ‘You feel guilty, but you should not,’ she whispered. ‘It is not your fault that your elders...people who should have cared for your well-being...made you a pawn in a spiteful game. You were just a boy.’

  ‘I know...’ Luke nodded. ‘But still I do, even after all this time. Had my grandfather gone first I would have gladly given everything to them the moment the bequest was executed.’ Luke curled his fingers over the small white digits soothing him. ‘My father expired over a decade ago and my mother followed him to the grave a few years later. She’d requested to be buried in the Wolfson plot, by my father’s side. My grandfather was eighty years old and still holding grudges. But I fought him and eventually he relented and allowed his daughter-in-law to be laid to rest on his land.’ He paused. ‘My mother always wished to stay with her husband, but she did her duty and removed me from living beneath his roof and his wrath. But she never let me forget she’d suffered for it.’

  ‘Oh, I’m so sorry...’ Fiona hung her head, feeling ashamed. ‘I shouldn’t have pressed you to say anything about it. I know you have aired some very private thoughts. I swear I’ll never betray your trust.’

  Luke turned to fully face her, gazing down at her with immense gravity. ‘My inheritance was a curse, not a boon, and that’s why I wished to carry on earning my living. If I brood on anything in my past it’s that, not a failed love affair. When a moody young man I vowed I’d give away the lot the day the will was read. My mother despaired on hearing that plan. In her eyes such an action was a greater insult than that perpetrated by her father-in-law.’ He frowned. ‘If she’d outlived the old boy I would have given her whatever she desired.’

  ‘I do understand why you would want to do that.’ Fiona’s voice trembled with sincerity. ‘But...I’m glad you didn’t have a chance to test the scope of your generosity, or her avarice.’ She sighed. ‘Money and corruption are often bedfellows. And if it helps you at all...what you have told me has made me reconsider my own situation.’ Quickly she explained, ‘Ratcliff let slip that he knew about my small bequest. Perhaps he wormed his way into our lives to lay hands to it.’ In her sweet attempt to boost Luke’s mood Fiona enthused, ‘In any case, I no longer care about Ratcliff. We...my mama and I...have you to thank for our salvation where he is concerned. The Duke of Thornley and Joan also owe you a debt of gratitude for apprehending vile Jeremiah Collins.’ She smiled shyly into his velvet-brown eyes. ‘So, you see, being in possession of your hateful inheritance has done good, in its way. Without his grandfather’s wealth spurring him to soldier on, Major Luke Wolfson might have retired to the life of a town fop.’

  ‘Town fop...is that how you see me?’ But he chuckled gruffly, hugging her to him. ‘I think you, Miss Chapman, are all I need to stay hale and hearty and happy.’

  Fiona’s smile faded. Now he seemed to have returned to his normal self, anxieties were again pricking at her mind. She felt more closely bound to Luke following their intimate talk. But she was still haunted by uncertainty over his feelings for Miss Ponting. Carefully she withdrew from his possessive embrace and gazed up into his preying e
yes.

  ‘I’m sorry to ask, but I must know—are you still in love... Is Miss Ponting right to hope...to expect...?’

  The unfinished question throbbed between them, timed in seconds by the pendulum of the large wall clock.

  ‘I know I should have told you I’d fallen in love,’ Luke eventually said very softly.

  ‘Will you marry her?’ Fiona’s voice was a hoarse whisper.

  ‘If she’ll have me...’ Luke’s smile was barely there. ‘First I have to impress on her my sincere apologies if she believes I have ever treated her with a lack of consideration or respect. Of all the people I have ever known she is the most deserving of such homage.’ He paused for a moment following that vehement declaration. ‘I must also convince her of my intention to improve my behaviour. And I will change, for her...just for her...because no other woman will do...so if she turns me down...’

  Luke left the rest unsaid. He approached Fiona and stood very close. Very slowly he smoothed the satiny line of her jaw with gentle knuckles before tilting up her chin so she couldn’t avoid his eyes. ‘Please look at me, Fiona,’ he begged.

  After a fractional hesitation Fiona raised her lashes, her heart wedged dizzyingly in her throat. She yearned to hear him say that he loved her, but he simply rewarded her shy smile with another tender caress.

  ‘I love you, Fiona... Oh, I want you, too... You’re a fire in my blood and have been since the first night that I met you. Even drenched through you looked ravishing to me. I recall almost telling you so at the time and earning your mistrust because of it.’

  Fiona remembered very well the incident on that first night they’d met. He’d given her his coat to wear and she’d felt spellbound while they’d talked by the firelight.

  He skimmed his lips over a satiny crown of fawn hair. ‘I’ve tried to fool myself that seducing you will suffice and ease my desire to be with you. But it won’t do. I want to be by your side in and out of bed. Most of all I want to protect you and our children from every disappointment and harm. I know I can’t do that, however hard I try.’ He tilted up her chin with five curled fingers. ‘There’ll be times when bad luck and worries will afflict us as a family...but we’ll fight it all together...if you’ll be very kind and have me as your husband.’