A Midwinter's Scandal - A Novella Duet

by Erin Knightley

  She suddenly, urgently felt the need to correct him, to convince him this was all some terrible misunderstanding. Leaning forward, she seized both his hands in her own. They were still, unyielding, but he didn’t pull them away.

  “Sebastian, I never wrote any letter. I arrived at the church that day expecting to be married. And I’ve lived with the scandal and stigma for months now. I wouldn’t wish this sort of misery on anyone, let alone myself!”

  No one deserved to feel like a pariah, to feel as though the word “unwanted” was stamped across one’s forehead.

  He extracted his hands from hers, but not unkindly. “I don’t understand,” he said, his voice low and his expression grave. “Who else could have sent that letter? If it wasn’t your handwriting, it was a damn good forgery of it.”

  She ignored his curse—heaven knew she had plenty of curses on her own tongue just then—and shook her head. “I don’t know. I can’t imagine who would do such a cruel thing.”

  “Juliette!” Her cousin’s breathless voice jarred her from the conversation, abruptly reminding her of what had caused the run-in with Sebastian in the first place.

  “Georgie!” She started to rise, only to gasp in pain and fall back to the bench. Blast, she’d already forgotten about her bruised knee. It wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been, but the twinge of pain had surprised her.

  Her cousin rushed forward, only to come to a lurching stop when she realized who sat beside Juliette on the bench. Her sweet face scrunched into a forbidding scowl. “What the devil are you doing here?”

  Juliette rushed to explain. “You won’t believe—”

  “Lady Juliette has injured herself in a fall,” Sebastian said brusquely, effectively cutting off her explanation. When she turned to him, a question poised on the tip of her tongue, he shook his head. “Do not discuss this with anyone yet,” he murmured, his voice low and insistent.

  “But—”

  “Do you think you can walk?”

  She blinked at the sudden change in conversation. She pressed her weight on her leg, and though it wasn’t comfortable, it wasn’t unbearable. “Yes, I think so.”

  He gave a curt nod. “Since Miss Pickford is here now, I shall take my leave. May I fetch your coachman?”

  “No, they’re very close by.”

  “I bid you good day, then.” As he made to stand, he added beneath his breath, “Meet me at the bridge in Hyde Park tomorrow at two.”

  “I say, Lord Haverstan, you can’t just—” But Georgiana’s complaint was cut off as he bowed, turned on his heel, and stalked away. “Well,” she said, outrage lining her forehead. “That man is insufferable. Are you all right? Did he hurt you somehow?”

  Juliette bit her lip, watching him go. What in the world had just happened? Her heart still pounded from the encounter with the man who was supposed to have been her husband by now.

  She could tell her cousin everything. She should. But what had just happened was so outlandish, so completely mad, she didn’t want to discuss it just yet. Not until she’d had a chance to think this through.

  Making up her mind, she offered her well-practiced everything-is-all-right smile. “No, he was telling the truth. I fell chasing after you, banged my knee, and he helped me off the ice. What happened to you?”

  The diversionary tactic worked beautifully. Georgiana launched into an enthusiastic tale of her narrow escape from the angry merchant and the two subsequent tradesmen she had managed to upset. By the time she was done, they had both unstrapped their skates from their shoes and Juliette’s tentative testing of her knee revealed no lasting injury.

  “Well,” Juliette said, adjusting her scarf to block the biting wind from her face, “we have had more than enough excitement for one day. Shall we return home now?”

  “Probably a good idea. It’s been well over the hour you had originally allotted, after all. Father will be wondering where we got off to.”

  The thought of Georgiana spilling the whole tale to Uncle Gregory made Juliette’s stomach tighten. “Indeed. And speaking of your father, I hope you won’t feel compelled to share all our adventures with him. In particular, everything that has happened since we spoke with Mr. Harvey should probably be best kept between us.”

  Her cousin made a face at the mention of the dandy. “Yes, of course. No need to upset him about that, or the run-in with your wretched former betrothed. I do believe Father’s still tender from the last two scandals.”

  Juliette smiled tightly and nodded. He wasn’t the only one. As they started toward the carriage, her mind turned back to the conversation with Sebastian. What on earth was going on? Could there really be any truth to his claims?

  She could hardly wait until tomorrow, when she could speak with him again. Her stomach flipped a bit at the very thought. They were no love match—they hardly knew each other, thanks to his years of barely speaking to her—but she did have feelings for the man. It had always been a foregone conclusion that he would be hers, and one couldn’t help but develop tender feelings for one’s future husband.

  But if what he said was true . . .

  She swallowed. No, she wouldn’t let her imagination run away with her. First she would discuss the matter with Sebastian, and if it proved to be true, well, she’d cross that bridge when she came to it.

  ***

  “There’s been a development.” Sebastian paced back and forth in front of Roderick Patel’s pin-neat desk.

  Roderick leaned back in his chair, watching him with one lifted eyebrow. “Oh?” They’d been friends since boyhood, long before Roderick had become a respected barrister, and he was therefore one of the few people on the planet whom Sebastian trusted implicitly.

  “Juliette claims to have never written the letter asking me to call off the wedding.” Sebastian had gone over the conversation a dozen times as he made his way to the office, trying to analyze both her words and her reactions. Each time, he came to the same conclusion: He believed she was telling the truth.

  Sitting up straighter, Roderick watched him with shrewd onyx-colored eyes. “Is that so?”

  He was one of the smartest men Sebastian knew, and his dark gaze never seemed to miss anything. He was the oldest son of the Earl of Redding, but his by-blow status, combined with his mother’s Indian heritage, made his acceptance by the ton tentative at best. They were happy to have his advocacy before the High Court, but socializing with him was another thing entirely.

  The circumstances of his birth also made inheriting the title impossible, which was a damn shame. His half-brother Rudyard was a narrow-minded fool, in Sebastian’s unbiased opinion.

  At Sebastian’s nod, Roderick said, “And do you believe her?”

  “I do. At least I think I do.”

  He could still see the shock on her face at his revelation. He barely knew the woman, but she had always struck him as the honest sort. He’d met many a scheming female in the past few years, and liked to think he could spot one at forty paces by now.

  “Well, that is an interesting development.” Roderick crossed his arms and pursed his lips, considering the new information. “So who sent it?”

  Sebastian spread his hands. “I’m open to suggestions. I’ve arranged to meet her tomorrow to try to figure that out. I can’t see who would benefit from this mad scheme.”

  “There are ultimately only three motives in life: love, money, and revenge.” Roderick ticked them off on his fingers. “My guess would be one of the first two.”

  “You think someone is in love with her, and wished to ruin the union?” It sounded farfetched to Sebastian’s ears.

  Roderick shrugged. “With her, or with you. Or someone stood to gain financially from preventing the marriage. Any thoughts on that?”

  “I have no idea. It’s possible a fortune hunter wished to keep me unattached, I suppose. Actually, I suppose the same could be said of her. My wealth far exceeds hers, but she’s still an heiress. However, with the crop of debutantes available this Season, it
hardly seems likely that someone would single her out to so cruelly sabotage.”

  Nodding thoughtfully, Roderick said, “Stranger things have happened. Why don’t you make a list of fortune hunters who have pursued you, as well as people that may be harboring some sort of tendre towards you. Ask her if she had any former beaus or suitors who may have wished to marry her.

  “In the meantime,” he said, coming to his feet, “I’ll put an ear to the ground to see if there was any change in her finances. I can’t imagine there was, given what I know of the trustees her father chose, but it’s worth a look.”

  Sebastian nodded, even as anger simmered beneath the surface. Someone had played him for a fool, and when he found out who the bastard was, there would be hell to pay. “I’ll do what I can. Thanks for your help with all this.”

  Roderick grinned. “My pleasure. I’d say I’d do if for our friendship, but I’m rather partial to accepting your money.”

  Laughing, Sebastian threw his friend a wry grin “With friends like you . . .” he said, shaking his head with mock disappointment as he let the rest of the saying hang in the air.

  It was good to know that he had at least one person on his side. As of tomorrow, he hoped to have one more: his jilted bride.

  ***

  It was tricky, figuring out how to get away from the house without having Georgiana—or worse, Georgiana’s brothers—for escort. But as Juliette hurried across the street toward the park, she smiled to herself for coming up with the perfect ruse. With her uncle gone to meetings for the day, Juliette simply visited the one place she knew her cousins would never bother her: Uncle Gregory’s newly expanded and renovated conservatory.

  She often helped him categorize and track his many dozens of species, so it wasn’t unusual for her to be there for hours at a time. From there, she simply slipped out the service door into the sadly barren summer garden, then out the gate leading to the mews behind. Wrapped up in her plainest coat, there was nothing remarkable about the nondescript young woman hurrying along to her destination, her head bent against the wind.

  An undeniable thrill raced through her as the park came into view. She’d completely given up on Sebastian as a man of character, or even as someone worth her acknowledgement. The fact that things had gone so completely different from what she was led to believe sent something very close to hope bubbling through her. What if she wasn’t doomed to live the life of the pathetic jilted bride after all?

  As she headed for the appointed meeting place, it became immediately apparent that neither one of them had thought the location through. Just like yesterday at the Thames, dozens of people were taking advantage of the frozen Serpentine, gleefully skating across its solid surface.

  This was definitely not the place to have a private discussion.

  She moved toward the bridge, more cautious now that so many people were about who could potentially recognize her. She saw him then, as his roving gaze collided with hers. He’d dressed in the same bulky coat as yesterday, this time with a dark blue scarf that made his eyes look brighter than usual against his wind-reddened cheeks. He tipped his head up in acknowledgement, and started toward her.

  “Afternoon,” he said, avoiding the use of her honorific. “It appears our meeting place was ill-chosen.”

  She nodded, keeping her chin tucked in her own scarf. “Indeed. Suggestions?”

  “I think we should walk toward the path leading to the back side of the lake. From what I can tell, it’s much less populated over there. Just stroll casually as though we are a couple who have every right to be taking a winter promenade.”

  He held out his arm, and she readily tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. That same thrill from earlier flitted through her. This was how they would have been if someone hadn’t gone and ruined everything. This was how she had imagined things might be, all those nights leading up to the wedding. Being close to him, being by his side, casual touches, not-so-casual touches . . .

  She swallowed, trying not to let her imagination run away with her.

  When they’d walked far enough for the shrieks and laughter to fade, he looked over to her and said, “Thank you for coming out here to meet me. I wasn’t sure you’d show up, given the circumstances.” His eyes held caution, but thankfully no animosity.

  “After what you told me yesterday, I couldn’t not meet with you. But why the subterfuge? Why not come to the house to discuss it?”

  She’d thought about the revelation all night long. This was something that needed to be discussed with her family, but for some reason, she hesitated. She wanted to be sure that he was telling the truth before she brought it up to them. Otherwise, she was afraid that she’d be made to look a fool all over again.

  She still hadn’t lost the stigma from the first time around.

  He slowed to a stop and turned to face her, breaking the contact between them in the process. “Because someone went to a lot of trouble to stop the wedding, and until we know who it was and what their motive was, I don’t want to lose the upper hand.”

  Juliette’s brows came together. “You can’t think that it was someone from my family.” When he didn’t answer, she shook her head sharply. “For heaven’s sake, we’ve been dealing with the effects of the scandal for months! No one would wish that on themselves. Certainly none of them would wish it on me.”

  The very thought was ridiculous. Her uncle and all of her cousins had been angry and indignant on her behalf, and had gone out of their way to comfort her. Even Nathaniel, who was hundreds of miles away, had sent a sweet note filled with compassion and no small amount of brotherly outrage on her behalf.

  Sebastian shrugged. “Until I can rule someone out for certain, everyone is a suspect. But I am interested in hearing your theories on the topic. Whom do you suspect?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, feeling more than a little defensive. “Perhaps one of the women who were hanging all over you last Season. Everyone knew of my intention to marry you, but for years you cavorted about as though you had no intention of getting married. It’s reasonable to imagine that one of those dreadfully forward females had hoped to win you for herself.”

  It still was a prick to her pride, admitting how ambivalent he’d been toward her all these years. Yes, their fathers had desired the match, but she had given the contract due respect. It wasn’t until after his father’s death that Sebastian had finally done the same. Regretting his ne’er-do-well ways, perhaps? Regretting the way he had treated his father when the man was alive, and making amends by following through with the marriage? She never had figured out the sudden change of heart.

  Without a hint of upset or offense at her suggestion, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a letter. Handing it over to her, he said, “But one of them would have had to be in possession of a letter from you in order to be able to create such a believable counterfeit. Somehow I doubt you regularly correspond with the women who pasted themselves to my side last Season.”

  Scowling at the logic behind such a comment, she snatched the letter from him and peered down at its contents. Her stomach dropped at the sight of her own handwriting staring back at her. She blinked up at him, astonishment widening her eyes. “I can’t believe this! I would have thought I wrote it if I didn’t know any better.”

  It felt like the worst kind of violation, as thought someone had stolen a part of her. She forced herself to look back down at it and read the damning words.

  Dear Lord Haverstan,

  I can think of no other way to avoid tomorrow’s fate than to appeal to you directly. To put it plainly, I am in love with another. I do not wish to marry you. I never did, in fact, but was only attempting to honor my deceased father’s wishes. But I have given it much thought, and it simply doesn’t seem reasonable that I should live in misery for the rest of my life for no more reason than sentimentality.

  I know this puts you in a terrible position, but would it not be better to cry off now than to suffer a lifelong marriage w
ith a woman who does not wish to be your wife? Who would pine every single day for another? I cannot be the one to break off the betrothal. My family simply would not allow it. I shall be at the church tomorrow, hoping against hope that it will be in vain.

  I beg of you, please honor my wishes and call off this farce of a marriage.

  Yours in sincerity,

  Juliette

  She looked back up at him, breathless with shock. He watched her with an unreadable expression, but she could see the intensity behind his gaze.

  “I can’t believe this. There isn’t one kernel of truth to any of this. I’ve never loved another. I’ve never even thought of another. You were my betrothed and that was that.”

  He nodded slowly, his cheek muscles twitching as though he were gritting his teeth. His gaze dropped to the letter, but not before she caught a glimpse of something. Some emotion that was too fleeting for her to name. “I suppose I should be glad to hear that.”

  His detached answer wasn’t exactly flattering. But no matter how aloof he wished to appear about the entire thing, the fact was he had complied with what he thought were her wishes. She nibbled her lip. Had he called off the wedding for her sake, or had it been for his? Had her letter given him the excuse he was looking for to back out?

  No, she didn’t believe that. Sebastian Holmes lived by his own rules. If he had intended to back out, he would have done so. Or he might have simply decided to keep her waiting forever, living out his days as a bachelor. She drew in a soft breath. That could only mean he had walked away for her sake.

  It was oddly romantic, really.

  Looking up into those chill blue eyes, she said quietly, “I can’t believe you would sacrifice your honor like that, simply because I asked. In a way, that was very noble.”

  He scoffed, flicking his gaze skyward before meeting her eyes again. “Most people would call it madness. But I did it for me, not for you. I’d rather the world think me a cad than a cuckold. I’d rather be a cad than a cuckold. When it comes to marriage, loyalty is a top priority in my eyes. Respect and honesty come next.”