Christian shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He’d looked forward to socializing when he thought Sarah—Serena—would be on his arm. He’d show the world that not all women thought him hideous. But now his confidence had gone. Was the story she’d spun him about her marital abuse true? Was the relationship they’d shared a convenient fuck on the voyage home or just her way of managing him? No wonder she’d turned him down so easily. She was not a lowly governess thankful for a deformed earl’s attentions, but the daughter of a duke. With her beauty and breeding she could have any man she wanted.
Serena obviously did not want him, or not anymore. Well, he didn’t need her either. It was time to put his troubles first and find the person responsible for this litany of lies.
“Carla’s death is the piece of the puzzle that could tell us more. Did Grayson discover any leads?”
Hadley shook his head. “No. He still has Bow Street Runners investigating.”
“I must admit I’m surprised Grayson isn’t here. Where is he? I thought he was going to sound out Harriet—delicately, obviously. If anyone can handle a lady, it’s Grayson.”
“As a matter of fact, I’m not exactly sure. I received a cryptic message from him about aiding Lady Portia Flagstaff and I haven’t seen or heard from him since. Most unlike him, I must say.”
Christian tried to shrug off his concern. “Portia has been the bane of Grayson’s life since he promised her brother he’d look out for her. When a man dies in your arms begging a favor, only a cur would refuse. How could Grayson know she was more spirited, and far more trouble, than her brother ever was?” He took a long drink. “I’m sure he’ll turn up eventually—once he’s extracted Portia from whatever trouble she’s got herself into this time.” He refilled his glass. “Did Grayson speak with Harriet?” The catch in his voice was a clue as to how important what Grayson might have learned could be.
Hadley shook his head. “Not good news, I’m afraid. She swears it was you. She says the man had a scarred face, and the voice was refined.” He stretched. “Unfortunately, she hates you and would be happy to see you dead, as would her father.”
“What the hell do I do now?”
Hadley leaned forward. “I’d start my talking with the Runners. Ask them what they have found. Then I’d continue as if nothing were amiss. Resume your foray in society. Having Lady Serena Castleton on your arm would certainly aid your cause. Helping a damsel stranded on the other side of the world would be a perfect tale of heroism. Not that you need any more tales of your heroics—your sacrifice at Waterloo is still talked about.”
“You mentioned her husband, Dennett. What was he like?”
Hadley raised his thick black eyebrows and then laughed at him, shaking his head. “Why didn’t you ask Sebastian? He and Dennett knew each other very well. They hated each other. Dennett was too good-looking for Sebastian’s taste. He was too much competition for the ladies Sebastian wanted.” He sobered. “I’m being facetious. Sebastian hated him because Dennett was a sadist. He liked to abuse women. Dennett beat one of Sebastian’s regular ladies at the Honey Pot and almost killed her. I thought Sebastian was going to choke the life out of Dennett by the time he’d finished with him, but Maitland pulled him off. Sebastian had Dennett banned from most of London’s high-class brothels, and some lower ones, in retribution.”
Christian’s cold hardness toward Serena thawed a fraction. In all likelihood she hadn’t lied about her husband’s violence.
“Yet, the Duke married his only daughter to Dennett?”
“Money.” Hadley’s expression was undisguised distaste. “Serena’s marriage happened indecently quickly. They left as husband and wife for America before the ton had even heard of the match.”
Christian kept his tone neutral. “Did Sebastian know Serena Castleton?”
“I’m sure he’d been presented to her, as we all were.” He nodded “That is, except you and Grayson. Both of you were in France when she was presented. The Duke shopped her on the marriage market like a prize mare. He wanted payment for the honor of marrying his daughter. He needed the money.” He took a swig from his brandy balloon. “She is damn beautiful. There were many who were tempted, but not Sebastian.”
Bloody hell! Sebastian had been aware of who she was when they were in the Caribbean. That’s why he’d been down on the beach with her. Christian knew his friend had been hiding something. He believed Sebastian when he said he’d not seduced her, so it must have been her identity he was keeping secret. But why did Sebastian protect her? Why hadn’t Sebastian confided in him? He would have—unless Serena had sworn him to secrecy.
He needed to talk with Serena.
“I wonder what happened to Dennett and why she remarried so quickly.”
Hadley’s words were an echo of the thoughts churning in his brain. Who was Mr. Cooper? Was there even a Mr. Cooper? For some reason his gut clenched, and for the first time he considered the fact that Serena might be in some kind of trouble. This was the only reason he could think of as to why Sebastian had not confided in him. Was Sebastian helping her? If Sebastian had given Serena his word, he’d not break it, not even for Christian.
“I’d like to know the answer to that myself.” He rose. “Thank you, Hadley. Let me know if there is anything I can do to help Sebastian. I’ll seek out the Bow Street Runners first thing in the morning, but a part of me desperately wants to confront Harriet.”
Hadley rose and slapped him on the shoulder. “It’s good to have you home. By the way, a word of warning. I know you’re going to confront Serena. Be aware that losing your temper is unlikely to get you anywhere. She’s used to a bully. You’re more likely to attract bears with honey, if you get my meaning.”
Irritation flittered over him. Hadley never shrank from speaking his mind, the privilege of being a younger son and not having to care about politics within society. But this matter was between Serena and himself.
“I know,” he admitted under his breath.
“If she’s in trouble, she’s liable to run away. And I suspect she is, given she’s not using her father’s influence to take her rightful place in society.”
“Agreed. There is certainly more to her story, and I intend to find out what it is as soon as you take your leave.”
Hadley moved to the door. “I’m gone. Let me know how it turns out.”
Christian smiled wryly, and Hadley took his leave.
His mind whirled with fears and doubts as he slowly walked up the stairs toward Serena’s room.
Serena heard the heavy footsteps echoing in the corridor, coming yet closer to her room, and she knew Christian wouldn’t wait until morning. The time for running had long passed. Besides, she had faith that he would help her. He might despise her when he heard her tale, perhaps even hate her, but he’d not hand her over to the law.
She rose from her bed and donned a robe. Moving toward the banked fire, she scooped up more coal and stirred the embers. The room was like ice, or maybe guilt was simply making her feel cold.
She’d barely seated herself in the big wing chair when Christian entered and closed the door after him. No knock, no request; he simply entered.
It was, after all, his house.
As he moved across the floor toward where she sat, she could almost see steam coming off him. His contained rage was palpable.
She couldn’t make out his expression in the firelight, the only light in the room. She’d purposely kept the room in shadows. A pronouncement of guilt was easier in the dark.
She swallowed the putrid distaste of her pending confession. She didn’t wait for him to speak. “I’m Lady Serena Castleton, or I was. I became Mrs. Peter Dennett just under two years ago. Now I’m his widow. That, at least, is no lie. But Mrs. Cooper is a figment of my imagination.”
He moved to stand directly at her feet, towering over her chair. “Is that why you played your little games with me, by leading me on with the little scraps of passion you deemed to throw my way? Blaming Dennett’s
mistreatment—Christ, please don’t tell me that was all a lie too?” Christian’s voice chilled the room, its echo cold and unfeeling.
“His mistreatment of me is no lie. It was worse than you could possibly imagine.” Serena reached out a hand and touched his arm. She felt him tense under her touch. He shook her off.
“I could never understand my father’s rages at my mother, but God help me, I’m just holding on to my composure. Violence is simmering just below the surface. Be careful. I won’t stand for any more lies.”
Serena didn’t flinch. She knew the man in front of her better than he knew himself. He would not hurt her. He was nothing like his father. He was hurt and angry. And he had every right to feel that way.
Without even looking at her, Christian lashed out verbally. “I should have known you weren’t what you seemed the day we met. The way in which you appeared to ignore my disfigurement as if it were inconsequential had me fooled, Serena. I thought I was immune to women’s falsehoods. I’ve seen many try to trick me. Those who wanted my fortune threw themselves at me while shuddering in revulsion at the thought of having to share my bed. But yet again, the fairer sex has brought me down as no man has ever done.” The glow from the fire threw light on Christian’s face. “You should have trusted me.”
Her heart melted at the pain in his voice. He was more hurt than angry. What had Lord Fullerton shared with him?
She licked her lips, wishing she had a large glass of whiskey to drink for courage.
“What I feel for you is real. I tried to resist you. How could I allow myself to become involved with you when I knew nothing could come of it? I tried so hard to ignore the burning passion you ignited in my blood, but heaven help me, I just wasn’t strong enough.” A sob escaped from deep within her chest. “Christian, look at me, please. You’ve got to believe me.”
“I don’t have to do anything where you are concerned, madam. Your betrayal taints every memory of our voyage.”
“How have I betrayed you? I haven’t betrayed you. I simply did not tell you the whole truth,” Serena cried.
“You didn’t trust me enough. You must have realized how I felt about you. Christ, I asked you to marry me.”
“I wanted to tell you, but that would make you an accessory to murder. I couldn’t do that to you.”
His eyes opened wide in horror. “Murder? Christ, who are you really?” He began to turn away from her.
Anger flared in Serena. She deserved a chance to be heard. She grabbed his arm. “Please, you’ve learned what Peter was like or else you would have simply thrown me out into the street. Will you listen to my side of the story before condemning me? I thought you, of all men, given your mother’s death, would not judge me without a fair hearing.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Go on. Tell me everything.” His tone sounded calm and reasonable. A spark of hope ignited in her soul.
“I don’t know where to start.”
He took the other chair by the fire and indicated she should resume her seat. “I find the beginning the best place.”
Serena pulled the robe tightly around her. If she was to strip her soul bare, she’d rather do to it without being naked to his gaze as well. She began her confession. “As with most distasteful tales, my story revolves around money—or rather, the lack of it.” She drew in a shuddering breath. “My father loves to gamble, and he got himself into some financial straits. Unbeknown to me, he owed a huge amount of money to Peter Dennett.”
Christian clenched his hands on his lap. “You were the settlement of the debt?” She nodded and looked away. He had to ask. “Why did you agree?”
Self-loathing coated her words. “Because I was young and stupid, and Father swore it would help the family, and Peter was the brother of a marquis, handsome and charming. I did not love him, but I thought my life would at least be content. It was unlikely I’d marry for love, anyway. The man I loved didn’t even know I existed.” She looked directly at Christian with a raised eyebrow.
“Me?” he asked. “You were in love with me? We’d never even been introduced.”
“Perhaps ‘love’ is too strong a word. Infatuated, actually. Remember the stories I told you about Lady Serena spying on you at her father’s ball?” His face suddenly turned a charming shade of red at the memory. She sighed. “It was silly infatuation. I know that now. What I feel for you now is—well, I can’t find the words. Love is deeper, more consuming, and less selfish. I was just a silly girl.”
She chewed her bottom lip. “No, I’m being too hard on myself. I wasn’t silly; rather, I was naive. I gave in to Father’s plan because I never knew men as evil as Peter Dennett existed in this world. Perhaps if women were not kept in the dark about such people and their perversions, I would not have been so easily fooled.”
There was barely any light in the room, and she was glad he could not see the wash of shame over her face.
“It wasn’t until the bishop completed the vows that I even understood Peter was taking me away from England. They’d kept everything from me.” She could feel the tears welling. “I never thought I’d see England again. And—” She gulped back another sob. “Once on board the ship, in my husband’s bed, I didn’t care. All I cared about was surviving.” She couldn’t hold the tears back now. A sob rose up and escaped before she could slap her hand over her mouth.
In a flash, Christian rose and gathered her to his chest, pulling her down onto his lap. “You’re not alone now.” He cupped her face tenderly and wiped a tear away with his thumb. “What happened when you got to America?” he asked softly.
She briefly closed her eyes. “He treated me literally like one of his slaves. One time he even had me stripped and lashed when I denied him his husband’s rights. He meant it to serve as an example to his slaves—if the master treated his wife like that, what would he do to them if they disobeyed? That was his twisted thinking. You saw the scars on my back. He took pleasure in humiliating me. He seemed to relish seeing me in pain. After one episode, I couldn’t walk or leave my bed for over a week. I knew if I stayed much longer, he’d kill me.”
Christian’s hand tightened on her knee but he said nothing.
She wiped the tears from her face. She’d cried too many tears already because of Peter Dennett. “Then one night he brought a male slave to my room.” Her voice faltered, and she gave an anguished cry. “I can’t—I can’t tell you this. You’ll be revolted by me.…”
He pulled her tight against his chest, the heat from his body warming the chill inside her soul. “Nothing done to you against your will could ever revolt me. I just want the truth,” he whispered against her cheek. She clung to him, praying he’d understand and forgive her.
“He ordered me to let the slave service me while he watched.”
“If he weren’t already dead, I’d kill him.” The venom in his voice sent a flutter through her heart, and her hope rose at his words.
“It was Zachary, husband of Pippa, a slave who worked as my maid. She and I had become firm friends. Peter used to regularly abuse her too.
“Zachary was brought to my bedchamber and told what to do. Peter sat in a chair at the side of the bed, naked and fully aroused. He was going to take his pleasure by watching another man fuck his wife. He instructed Zachary to make the rape look real or else he’d rape Pippa again, promising to hurt her badly this time.”
She’d never forget the agony of Zachary’s choice reflected in his eyes. “He had to hurt one of us—me or Pippa. As he should have, he chose not to hurt his wife. As he approached the bed he kept apologizing, kept asking God for forgiveness.”
Christian tightened his hold and started gently rocking her on his lap.
“It was Zachary’s pain that made my temper snap. I was not so victimized yet as to sit helplessly by. I fought. I refused Peter’s request and began screaming at him. I told him that he could beat me all he liked, but I’d never sin before God for him. He ordered Zachary from the room, and I thought I was in for a
whipping. Instead, he started to strangle me, his hands tight around my throat. I couldn’t breathe and I began to see stars. I knew he was trying to kill me. I managed to reach for the decanter of whiskey I kept by my bed. It was heavy and made of thick glass. I smashed him over the head with it.”
“Clever girl.”
“Zachary raced in upon hearing the crash and the thud of Peter’s body hitting the floor. There was blood everywhere. It poured from his wound. Zachary checked Peter and told me I’d killed him.” She covered her face with her hands. “I didn’t mean to. All I could think about was surviving.” Great racking sobs engulfed her body, and Christian simply rocked her, smoothing her hair and whispering that everything would be all right.
“You acted in self-defense.” He reached into his coat. A second later he passed her his handkerchief. “Is this why you remained incognito?”
She raised reddened eyes. “There is more. Zachary told me to collect my valuables and we would run away together with Pippa. We would try to make it to Canada. He and Pippa had been planning such an escape for months. They would use the Underground Railroad, a network of sympathizers who helped runaway slaves. They thought having a white woman along with them would help if we were stopped. They could pretend to be my servants.
“Zachary left to get Pippa and we arranged to meet at the stables. I grabbed my jewelry and made my way quietly to the meeting point. However, not quietly enough, as it turned out. Sean Burcher, my husband’s overseer, caught me. He’s a lecher.” She caught her breath. “He’d been watching everything through a peephole in my room. Unbeknown to me he’d been spying on me for months.”
“Christ. Your father’s a dead man. How could he hand you over into this sort of life? How could he not take the time to find out who and what Peter Dennett was?”
“I’m sure he knew. He just didn’t care. I wrote to Father, hinting at what Peter was like. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him the complete truth. Father’s reply stated that I was married before God and that it was up to me to behave like a dutiful wife and not invoke my husband’s wrath.”
The Disgraced Lords Series 3-Book Bundle Page 20
