Joanna Maitland

by Rakes Reward

  ‘Earl Luce, m’lady.’

  The Earl strode in, carrying another copy of that infernal scandal sheet!

  Marina felt her heart shrivelling within her like an autumn leaf. There was no hope now. The Earl detested her. When he found out what she had done—as he soon must—he would make quite sure that the whole world learned of her disgrace.

  ‘Mama! I have brought you the latest news. I fear you will be greatly shocked. It is scandalous—’

  Lazily, the Dowager picked up her own copy of the scandal sheet and waved it in her son’s direction. ‘Save your breath, William,’ she said acidly. ‘I learned of it long ago.’

  The Earl let out a long, exasperated sigh.

  Marina wished that the floor would open and swallow her up. Her blood was pounding so loudly in her ears that she felt as if her head would burst.

  ‘Oh, sit down, do. Tell me,’ the Dowager continued, with poorly feigned concern, ‘how is Charlotte taking the news?’

  ‘I have not told her. She is… You must understand, Mama, that Charlotte is in an…interesting condition.’

  ‘What? Again? For heaven’s sake, William, you cannot afford to support ten children, far less eleven. What on earth were you thinking of?’

  ‘Let me remind you, Mama, that marriage was ordained by God for the procreation of children.’

  ‘Hmph! Even you are not required to populate the earth all by yourself. You are a fool, William. Sometimes I wonder if—’

  ‘Mama,’ interrupted the Earl, with a sharp glance towards Marina, the unwilling witness of his humiliation, ‘I came to ask your advice about this…this…’ He waved his scandal sheet in the direction of the copy on his mother’s lap. ‘You say that you know who M.B. is. So, you must also know that it falls to me to take action in the matter.’

  Lady Luce raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Someone must do so, Mama. Her father will not return for at least another month and her brother is only a schoolboy. I cannot ignore my responsibilities. Remember that I am her godfather.’

  Tilly’s godfather! Marina closed her eyes and dropped her head. Her hands were tightly clasped to stop them from shaking. Automatically, she felt for her ring.

  ‘So you have decided that I was referring to Tilly Blaine, have you, William?’

  ‘Are you telling me that you were not?’

  ‘I am telling you nothing at all. It is for you to draw your own conclusions.’ The Dowager pursed her lips for a moment. ‘I must say, however, that I should not be surprised at anything that family might do.’

  The Earl stared hard at his mother but she said nothing more. She looked, Marina thought, like a cat who had just caught a live mouse and was waiting for it to attempt to escape, so that it could be caught all over again. Why did one old woman get so much pleasure from tormenting her only son?

  ‘Very well. You leave me no choice, Mama. I shall go immediately to consult Lady Blaine. She will be profoundly shocked, of course, but I must have her agreement before I take the…necessary steps.’

  Necessary steps? What on earth could he mean? What was he going to do?

  The Dowager relaxed back into her chair. A tiny smile flickered at one corner of her thin mouth. She said nothing at all.

  The Earl waited a moment. Then he said, ‘As you wish, ma’am. I bid you good morning.’

  A quick bow and he was gone.

  The moment the door closed on him, the Dowager began to laugh. It was a hard, brittle sound, and to Marina’s ears, it was filled with malice.

  ‘Pompous ass,’ said the Dowager at last, straightening her back once more. She lifted her lorgnette and turned her gaze to Marina. ‘What is the matter with you, child? You look as white as a sheet. Do you tell me you are not enjoying this little tragedy? I told you it would be better than a play, did I not? Pity that William has proposed himself for the leading role, for his acting ability leaves much to be desired. I doubt there will be many curtain calls.’

  ‘Ma’am.’ Marina’s voice was barely audible. She cleared her throat and forced herself to try again. ‘Ma’am, may I ask what the Earl meant…about taking the necessary steps? I did not—’

  ‘Lud! You really are a country mouse,’ said the Dowager, shaking her head. ‘I had not thought that Yorkshire was so very far from civilisation. Why, he will insist that Kit Stratton marries that gel. What else did you think he would do?’

  Marina felt a chill of fear settling round her body. She could neither move nor speak. Kit Stratton would be forced into a totally loveless marriage. It did not matter that Tilly Blaine worshipped him, for she would soon discover that her new husband despised her. No doubt, she would learn to hate him. Oh, it was a terrible fate for both of them.

  And it was Marina’s fault.

  She closed her eyes. Her anger at Kit Stratton’s outrageous behaviour had melted away as if it had never been. Now she could see his handsome face looking down at her with sympathy in his eyes. She could almost feel his hand on hers, gentle and comforting, when he should have been accusing her of betrayal. Nothing he had done could possibly merit such a lifelong punishment. A woman who truly loved him would sacrifice herself to save him. A woman who truly loved him—and Marina could no longer pretend to herself that she did not—was bound to tell the truth, no matter what the cost to herself.

  Oh, dear God, how had it come to this? She was in love with the blackest rake in London. If anyone discovered it, she would be ruined.

  Marina willed a shell of ice to form around her heart. It was the only way. She sat immobile, allowing it to grow. She had fallen in love with Kit Stratton, in spite of herself. If he so much as guessed her weakness, he would use it against her. She did not think she could bear that. She must lock her feelings away where not even the strongest flame could melt a path to them.

  Otherwise, she was totally lost.

  The Dowager was paying not the least attention to Marina. She was totally absorbed in her own train of thought. ‘He will never succeed,’ she said emphatically.

  Marina was shocked back to the present.

  ‘Kit Stratton will never agree to an alliance under duress. He went into exile five years ago to avoid marrying Emma Fitzwilliam—and she was both beautiful, and an heiress. He will certainly refuse to marry a plain, empty-headed ninny like Tilly Blaine. Especially when it is William who demands it. He will laugh in William’s face.’

  ‘But Miss Blaine—’

  ‘Balderdash! Think, Marina. Everyone knows that Kit Stratton’s mistresses are always diamonds of the first water. If Tilly Blaine was alone in his company, it would have been at her instigation, not at his. Can’t say I’m at all surprised, after the exhibition she made of herself at Lady Stratton’s. She will be responsible for her own ruin. And for making William look the fool that he is. Dare say the whole Blaine family will have to go abroad.’ She nodded happily at that new thought. ‘You and I will have our revenge, miss, and London Society will be well rid of them all.’

  Chapter Seventeen

  ‘And so she berated me, Hugo. You’ve never seen such fire, I tell you. Her eyes were ablaze. She looked to be about to launch herself at me, claws unsheathed like a tawny lioness. It was a pity that I had to quench the flames…and so callously, too.’

  Hugo gave him a rather strange look, but said nothing.

  ‘She must have thought me totally devoid of feeling but, in truth, the idea that I would have anything to do with Tilly Blaine was so absurd… However, I should not have laughed. I freely admit my fault, but—’

  ‘That is all very well, Kit, but did you admit your fault to Miss Beaumont?’

  ‘I… No, I could not. Emma returned just then, and it was impossible for me to say anything more. As it was—’

  ‘As it was, Emma was well aware that something…out of the ordinary had taken place in her absence. She told me that Miss Beaumont seemed quite distressed. That is why I am here. You know well enough that I feel in some degree responsible for Miss Beaumont’s welfare. So
I must ask you, Kit, did you take advantage of her?’

  ‘No. Of course not. I would not do such a thing. Not to Miss Beaumont. I held her hands, nothing more. And my aim was only to comfort her. She was distressed, but more for Miss Blaine’s sake than for her own.’

  ‘She is a remarkable woman, I think,’ said Hugo.

  Kit nodded thoughtfully. He had long since reached the same conclusion. She was in some considerable danger of losing her reputation, but she seemed more concerned for others than for herself. He had never encountered a woman like her. In that instant, he resolved to do what he could to protect her. It would be little enough. He should have found out precisely where his housekeeper had been and what she had done, but he had been so incensed by the woman’s treachery that he had dismissed her the moment the Baroness was out of the door. He would never find her again now.

  Kit’s butler knocked and entered, carrying a letter on a salver. ‘Excuse me, sir, but this has just been delivered. The messenger says it is urgent. He is waiting for a reply.’

  ‘Very well,’ said Kit, ripping open the seal. ‘Take him to the kitchen. I will ring when I am ready.’

  ‘Very good, sir.’ Soundlessly, the butler bowed himself out.

  Hugo had quietly taken a seat beside the fireplace. He was smiling. ‘You have your servants very well trained, Kit.’

  Kit looked up and grimaced. ‘Here, perhaps,’ he said, his voice full of self-reproach, ‘but not in all my establishments. Good God!’

  ‘What is it?’ asked Hugo, rising.

  ‘This letter. It is from Katharina…the Baroness. She writes that her husband knows about her affairs and that he is threatening her.’

  ‘What does she want from you? Did you not warn her to refer her husband to her latest lover? Cullen, ain’t it?’

  Kit nodded. ‘Apparently, I am the only one who can help her. She asks me to meet her but—’ he looked again at the letter, to make sure that he had missed nothing ‘—she specifies neither time nor place. She says only that she dare not go to Chelsea.’

  ‘Sounds smoky to me.’

  ‘And to me,’ agreed Kit. ‘I have never been moved by impassioned pleas. “Do not fail me,” she writes. What am I supposed to make of that?’

  ‘Something underhand, I should guess. Shall you ignore it?’

  ‘No.’ He went to his desk and sat down. ‘For the moment,’ he said, beginning to write, ‘I shall humour her. When she has stated her terms…’

  ‘When she has stated her terms, Kit, you will not go alone to meet her.’

  Kit glanced up and grinned briefly. ‘Protecting my back still, brother?’

  Hugo grinned back. ‘You used to say that was what brothers were for, as I recall.’

  Kit did not respond. He merely shook his head ruefully and continued with his letter. Hugo, well used to his brother’s ways, returned to sit in his chair, seemingly content.

  The butler returned just as Kit was sanding his letter. Odd. He had not rung. ‘You are become a mind-reader, it appears?’ he said, looking sideways at the man.

  ‘No, sir,’ said the butler impassively. ‘Lord Luce has called. He insists on seeing you immediately.’

  ‘Ah, that explains it.’ Methodically, Kit sealed his letter and handed it to the butler. ‘See that the messenger has that. And now…I suppose you had better ask my latest visitor to come in.’

  Lord Luce entered the room like a ship in full sail, seeking an enemy to blast with his cannons. But he stopped short when he saw that Kit was not alone.

  ‘You are acquainted with my brother, Sir Hugo Stratton, are you not, sir?’ said Kit with withering politeness.

  ‘Indeed,’ said the Earl through gritted teeth. ‘However, my business, sir, is with you. Alone, if you please.’

  Hugo, who had risen to bow to the Earl, resumed his seat with calm deliberation. Kit tried not to smile. Hugo could be mighty stubborn when he chose and, in this case, he had clearly decided that Lord Luce’s visit required a witness.

  ‘My brother has my full confidence, sir,’ Kit said. ‘You may discuss any business in front of him. Pray be seated.’ He waved the Earl towards a stout chair. ‘How may I serve you?’

  The Earl did not sit. He looked as if he were about to explode. ‘You may serve me, sir, by making an offer of marriage to my goddaughter, Miss Mathilda Blaine! I need not demean her, or myself, by giving you reasons. You know them well enough.’

  So that was to be the way of it, Kit thought. In the absence of the father, the godfather came to demand satisfaction. Pity that Luce lacked the necessary dignity to play the role of the wronged parent.

  ‘I fear you are mistaken, sir,’ Kit said, very deliberately. ‘I have given Miss Blaine no reason—no reason at all—to believe that she might expect an offer from me.’

  ‘You…you lying devil, Stratton! Two private meetings in your Chelsea hide-away. Is that not reason enough? Eh?’

  Kit pursed his lips. ‘Has Miss Blaine told you, in terms, that she was there?’ Seeing Luce’s hesitation, Kit continued, ‘I take it that she has not.’

  ‘Didn’t need to. Her mother taxed her with it. She didn’t deny it. How could she? You were seen together, dammit!’

  ‘Might I ask, by whom?’

  The Earl began to bluster. ‘Don’t matter who saw you. Whole of London will know. The gel will be ruined if you don’t do right by her. And I intend to see that you do!’

  Kit clasped his hands casually behind his back and began to pace slowly up and down in front of the hearth. ‘How very unfortunate,’ he said at last, shaking his head, ‘that we find ourselves unable to agree on that point.’

  ‘What? You—!’

  ‘I have absolutely no obligation to Miss Blaine. Pray convey that message, with my respects, to the Viscountess. My respects to your lady wife, too, of course. Good day to you, sir.’

  Kit moved to open the door. Hugo rose politely.

  The Earl finally exploded. ‘By God, I’ll see that you suffer for this! Every door in London with be closed to you. To every last one of you!’ He stomped out, muttering.

  Calmly, Kit closed the door on the Earl and shrugged his shoulders. ‘Nasty,’ he said. ‘I am sorry you had to be witness to that, Hugo.’

  Hugo chewed at his lip for a moment. ‘He means mischief, Kit. You must see that. What do you mean to do? I don’t believe for a moment that you will allow that clown to blacken your name all over London.’

  ‘Our name, Hugo. His threats were directed at us all, you and Emma included.’

  ‘I will consult Emma, of course, but I do not take kindly to threats.’

  ‘Nor I,’ agreed Kit. ‘And in this case, a lady’s honour is involved.’

  ‘Miss Beaumont’s?’

  Kit nodded. ‘I cannot disprove Luce’s allegations without compromising Miss Beaumont. And that I will not do.’

  ‘Do you have a choice?’

  ‘Certainly. I shall do nothing. I have absolutely no desire to be legshackled, Hugo. Even if I had, Miss Blaine is the last woman I should choose. Let Luce do his worst—if he dares. No one in his right mind would believe that I willingly sought an assignation—no, two assignations—with Tilly Blaine. Luce will be laughed to scorn.’

  ‘That’s a pretty risky tactic, Kit. And Miss Blaine could be ruined. Have you no thought for her?’

  ‘Miss Blaine has brought it upon herself, Hugo. You heard what Luce said: the girl had a chance to deny the allegations, but she did not. She must want to be ruined.’

  Hugo shook his head a little sadly. ‘Wants to seize the faintest chance of marriage to you, more like.’

  ‘More fool she,’ retorted Kit harshly. ‘I should make her the devil of a bad husband, Hugo.’

  ‘Now that, I fancy, is the first sensible remark you have made all morning,’ said Hugo with a fleeting grin. He made for the door. ‘You will send to me at once if you hear from Luce again? Or from your Baroness? Good. Do not forget that Emma is expecting you this afternoon. And sh
e will not accept excuses!’

  Kit maintained his nonchalant pose until the door had closed behind Hugo. Then he sank into the chair behind his desk and distractedly ran his fingers through his thick hair. Hugo had been remarkably restrained, Kit concluded, particularly as the Stratton name was bound to be sullied by Kit’s decision to ride out the coming storm. What a coil! First, Katharina—and then, this Blaine woman. She must be mad! No woman could believe—surely?—that she could blackmail a man into marriage on the basis of a few mistaken rumours. What kind of marriage did she think it could be?

  She probably did not think about it at all. Most women were incapable of thinking beyond the altar and their bride-clothes. Tilly Blaine must have spun herself some mad fantasy based solely on his handsome face. Truly, his looks were a curse!

  Kit shook his head despairingly. Hugo had said—and he was right—that inaction was a dangerous course to follow. Luce would not have the sense to keep his mouth shut. And there would always be those who would quote the old adage of ‘no smoke without fire’. Even while they admitted that Kit Stratton had never been known to trifle with single women, particularly plain ones, they would wonder. And they would gossip. In the end, Kit would be forced to offer for Miss Blaine.

  He would have to go abroad again.

  Would that not be an admission of guilt in the eyes of Society? And what about Hugo and Emma? His disgrace would also be theirs.

  If Kit left England, the scandal would be soon forgotten.

  His choices were stark. He could flee. Again. Or he could betray Marina Beaumont. That he would not do.

  Marina hesitated by the steps. She was not sure that she dared to enter Fitzwilliam House again after yesterday’s altercation with Mr Stratton. She had been so dreadfully embarrassed when Lady Stratton walked in on them. She had covered up her anger as best she could, but Lady Stratton was no fool. She must have been aware that her guests were at outs. It had been a relief to escape from the house.

  Marina wondered how Mr Stratton had accounted for their quarrel. Perhaps he had simply pretended that nothing had happened? Perhaps Lady Stratton was too polite to ask?