by Rakes Reward
‘No, Mama. Under the law, I am the rightful Earl Luce.’
She almost groaned. ‘The title should have gone to Roland. He was the only true Luce.’
‘My brother is dead, Mama. No amount of revenge will bring him back to you.’
‘No, but the Blaines shall suffer as I have suffered. I mean what I say, William. If you force Kit Stratton to marry that Blaine chit—your niece, I should say—I’ll denounce you at the altar if I have to.’
He rose from his seat and shook his head at her. ‘Think carefully before you do anything so rash, Mama. Remember that you are known to be…unconventional. They will take it as the ravings of a lunatic.’
‘Balderdash!’
‘And nothing you might say will influence Lady Blaine, in any case. What will she care if you had an affair with her father-in-law? He is long dead. Whereas her daughter—and the prospect of imminent disgrace—is very much alive. No, Mama, your pitiful little blackmail will not serve.’ He bowed abruptly. ‘Good day to you, ma’am,’ he said, and marched out.
Marina could not believe what she had just heard. It explained much, but it was like…like the plot of a Gothic novel. Such things did not happen in real life, did they?
The Dowager looked at Marina with defeat in her eyes. ‘Shocked, child?’ she said quite gently. It sounded nothing like her normal, robust delivery. ‘I dare say your grandmama could have told you much about her family and their wicked deeds. The Blaine men have always been wild with women. Not their own women, you understand. Blaine women, both wives and daughters, must be totally beyond reproach in that regard. Dare say that’s why your grandmother was cast out. She challenged her father. And her brother. They would never tolerate that. Never.’
‘Is that…forgive me, ma’am, but is that why you let me stay? Because of what the Blaines did to my family?’
Lady Luce gave a wan smile. ‘The Blaines have done enough harm already, to your family and to mine. Couldn’t let William revert to his father’s ways. He’s already a bully. And he longs to be a tyrant. He’d be a womaniser, too, if he had the money or the looks.’
‘He is your son too, ma’am,’ ventured Marina, expecting one of the Dowager’s bruising snubs for her pains.
‘Perhaps, but I can’t say I’ve ever seen any of myself in him. Always backs away from a fight.’
‘He did not do so this time, ma’am. He seemed…determined to give you your own again.’
She snorted. ‘Only because he thinks he is on safe ground.’ She paused. ‘This time, I fear he may be. The Blaines could win. Again.’ Her thin hands were curled into fists.
‘Ma’am…I think I should leave London.’
‘Why? I need you here.’
‘But Lord Luce is bound to tell Lady Blaine about…about what I have done. She…she despises my family. She will find a way to brand me as Kit Stratton’s mistress, I am sure of it…though I promise you that I am not. You would not want a companion with such a reputation, ma’am. I should go now, before the rumours start.’ And before Kit’s betrothal is announced, she added silently to herself. If she was taxed about her dealings with Kit, she would be unable to conceal her feelings for very long.
‘Certainly not. You will stay here. Lady Blaine cannot slander you without giving up all hopes of forcing young Stratton into marriage with her daughter.’
Marina knew that the Dowager was wrong. Lady Blaine did not have to say that Marina was M.B. She had only to say that Marina had allowed herself to be seduced by Kit Stratton. The tabbies would be only too happy to spread the scandalous rumour, especially when it came from such an impeccable source.
‘Besides,’ continued the Dowager, ‘I think my threat may give her pause. William is much too sure of himself. The Blaines would not wish it known that the late Viscount was given to seducing innocent young ladies…and then abandoning them. Mark my words, Marina, I shall not allow them another victory.’ She drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair. ‘They are all promised for my party this evening. I think that a short private interview will be in order.’ She smiled, in very much her old way.
‘And now,’ she continued blandly, ‘perhaps you ought to tell me about the real M.B. and her dealings with that handsome young rake?’
Marina gazed at herself in the glass. She was still thoroughly agitated. If it had not been for Gibson’s help, she would have been unable even to fasten her gown. And as for her hair…
She looked dreadfully pale, almost ghastly, in spite of the glowing pink of her new evening gown. She viewed herself with something approaching horror. She was about to be exposed as a harlot. And she would have to watch, from the sidelines, while the man she loved was forcibly betrothed to the daughter of a wicked, scheming family. There was nothing she could do to prevent any of it.
She made her way along the hallway and down the stairs, reminding herself to keep her head high and her back straight. The Dowager had summoned her to join her makeshift conference in the bookroom on the ground floor. Marina hated that place. It was the room in which the Earl had interviewed her on the day she arrived—and again on the day he had sought to dismiss her. It all seemed so very long ago. For it was before she had learned to love Kit Stratton.
She tried not to think about him, but it was useless. She had only to hear his name for her heart to start pounding and her skin to tingle in anticipation of his touch. It was unlikely she would ever see him again—in spite of everything the Dowager had said, she was sure to be banished to Yorkshire very soon—but she found herself longing for one more glimpse, one more touch of those strong fingers…
Foolish, foolish girl, even to think of such a thing! She had tried to save him. And she had surely failed. This interview would prove it.
Tibbs was standing guard by the bookroom door. He nodded at Marina and opened it.
‘Miss Beaumont is here,’ declared the Dowager. ‘Good. We may begin.’
‘I do not see why I should have to tolerate the presence of a woman like that,’ snapped Lady Blaine, looking to Lord Luce for support. ‘If you will excuse me, ma’am—’
‘I will not. I would remind you, ma’am, that you are a guest in my house. I decide who shall go and who shall stay.’
Marina tried to hide her clenched fists in her skirts. Terrible though it was, this interview would have to end soon. The Dowager’s guests were arriving. If only there were something she could do…
‘I take it, ma’am,’ continued the Dowager firmly, ‘that Luce has told you the gist of our discussion this afternoon?’
Lady Blaine looked down her nose at the old lady. Eventually, she gave a tiny nod.
‘Let us have the truth with no bark on it. You and your family are proposing to use falsehoods to catch a rich husband for your daughter. You do not need me to tell you how dishonourable that is. Your daughter is no better than a slut!’
Lady Blaine was shocked into a protest. ‘How dare you say such a thing? My daughter is innocent of any wrongdoing. She—’
‘Your daughter allowed the whole world to see her behaving like a mooncalf over Kit Stratton. I don’t call that innocent!’
‘Of course it was!’ retorted the Viscountess, who was now becoming extremely angry. ‘With those remarkable looks, he seemed like a hero to Tilly, the sort of man who belonged in the settings of her favourite poems. She was daydreaming, nothing more!’
‘Perhaps you should take her off to see some of the exotic locations she is so fond of,’ said the Dowager quickly, ‘instead of forcing her into marriage.’
‘Her husband can show them to her,’ said Lady Blaine flatly. ‘After they are married.’
The Dowager nodded to herself. ‘You are determined, then, ma’am? Very well. So am I. If you go ahead with this, I shall announce to the world that your dear friend, William, is the illegitimate son of the late Viscount. He is, in fact, your husband’s older brother.’
‘Half-brother,’ corrected Lady Blaine.
The Dowager waited for her to conti
nue, but she did not. ‘Have you nothing more to say?’
Lady Blaine glanced at the Earl and then drawled, ‘The whole world knew that my father-in-law sired children on the wrong side of the blanket. If you wish to add yourself to the list of his mistresses, ma’am, please do so. It will not affect my family—or our decisions—in the least. And now, if you please, I should like to join your other guests. I came here on the promise of Faro and I have every intention of playing.’ She bowed her turbanned head a fraction and then swept across the room and out of the door.
The Earl made to follow.
‘A moment, William.’ When he turned back, the Dowager said, ‘I take it that Kit Stratton has made an offer for Miss Blaine?’
‘Yes. This afternoon.’
‘And it has been accepted?’
‘Yes. Nothing can be announced until the Viscount returns, naturally, but we expect him very soon now. Lady Blaine received a letter from him this very afternoon.’
‘How very fortunate for her,’ said the Dowager acidly.
Her son did not attempt to reply. He bowed politely to his mama, looked with loathing on Marina, and strode out of the room.
‘Ma’am,’ began Marina, putting a hand gently on the Dowager’s arm.
Lady Luce turned a strained face to Marina. This time, she appeared to be completely defeated.
‘Ma’am, I have had an idea. The other day, you said…you implied that Lady Blaine cheats at Faro. Are you sure of it?’
The old eyes gleamed. ‘Absolutely sure,’ she said firmly.
‘We may yet outwit them…if…if you are sure that is what you want to do?’
The Dowager nodded immediately. ‘Absolutely sure,’ she said again.
‘Then…then I must ask you to trust me, ma’am, and to follow my lead, however strange my actions may seem. I do not know precisely what I shall have to do— I must gauge the lie of the land first—but I shall certainly need your help. I can explain that later. Upstairs.’
The Dowager had started to move towards the door. Her guests would be wondering why she had not yet appeared. ‘My help?’
‘Lady Blaine is going to play Faro. And—with your help, ma’am—so am I!’
‘Good evening, ma’am.’
‘Mr Stratton!’ Marina stopped in her tracks. What on earth was he doing here in Lady Luce’s house?
He reached for her hand but she whipped it behind her back. She dare not let him touch her now. She dare not even think about him. She must focus only on what she was about to do.
He looked quizzically at her. ‘I don’t bite, Miss Beaumont. You are quite safe, you know. And I was invited.’
She nodded, wide-eyed. ‘I beg your pardon, sir,’ she said in a strained voice, and then stopped. She could think of nothing more to say.
‘My brother and his wife are here, too. It seems that the Dowager has decided to offer the Strattons a truce. I wonder why?’
Marina was in no doubt that he understood perfectly. It was simply that he enjoyed baiting people, especially Marina herself. She tried to frown him down. ‘Excuse me, if you will, sir. I am needed in the Faro room.’ She turned to go.
‘How very interesting,’ he drawled, taking her arm and slipping it through his own. ‘I was just on my way there. We can go together.’
‘No! I—’
He put his free hand firmly on top of her fingers. She could not escape from his grasp. ‘Marina,’ he said softly, ‘you are exasperating…and you are beautiful—’
She gasped. That was a downright lie.
‘And, on this occasion, you will do as I say. Come.’
He started towards the card room, forcing her to follow. What else could she do? The warmth from his body seemed to be spreading out from the spot where his fingers clasped hers. She could feel it coursing through her veins like fiery spirit, burning a track towards her heart. The Dowager’s brandy had been nothing like this. From this, she did not think that she could ever recover.
He had said she was beautiful.
Kit knew perfectly well that he should not have done it. He was telling himself so, even as he pressed her hand.
It might be his last opportunity to touch her soft skin.
Soon she would be gone from his life. Settled and comfortable—he would see to that—but gone. He would not be able to keep up the necessary pretence if he continued to see Marina Beaumont.
He loved her—more than he had ever thought possible.
Hugo had been right, as he always seemed to be. Kit, the rake, the man who cared for no member of the female sex, had fallen in love with the bravest, the most infuriating, the most wonderful woman in the world. But he could not marry her. If only it could have been otherwise. If only Marina were—
There was no point in brooding over such a mad fantasy. He could never have married Marina. Not while a belted earl was publicly accusing him of seducing his goddaughter. A marriage between Kit and Marina would have made her an outcast. She would have been labelled a harlot—or worse. A man might learn to cope with exile and public humiliation. A gently reared lady never would.
And so he was betrothed to Tilly Blaine—an empty-headed chit who lived in a world of poetry and make-believe. He had never given the girl a moment’s thought. Not even once. But now—or as soon as her father came home—he would be required to dance attendance on her, to squire her to parties, to play the part of the happy bridegroom-to-be. It would take every ounce of his self-control to play the part, but he would do it.
He would do it, provided Marina Beaumont was gone from his life.
He looked down at her. She was avoiding his eyes, but he could see the slight flush on her neck and feel the tremble in her fingers. She knew! She must know!
‘Why, good evening, Kit.’
At the sound of that sultry voice, Kit felt an almost irresistible urge to utter the foulest curses known to man. He gritted his teeth. His muscles tensed, ready for the conflict to come.
‘And it is Miss…the Dowager’s grey companion, is it not? Will you forgive us for a moment?’ The Baroness put her hand possessively on Kit’s arm. He wanted to shake it off, to berate her for her rudeness to Marina, but it was too late. Marina had pulled away from him and disappeared without a word. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that she had found the Dowager and that they were whispering together.
‘Is she the best you can do, Kit? Really, I should have thought—’
‘What do you want, Katharina? I came here to play cards, not to pull caps with you.’
‘Why—’ She broke off, looking suddenly concerned. ‘I cannot talk now,’ she whispered, nodding towards the stairs where her husband had just appeared. ‘Later. I will think of something.’ She whirled away.
Kit turned to watch the Baron’s ramrod-straight figure ascend the stairs. He was in his prime, in spite of his prematurely greying hair. The gold-braided dress uniform sat well on his spare frame. He strolled past Kit without so much as a glance. Kit, conscious of the humour of the situation, bowed briefly from the neck. He had always believed that cuckolded husbands deserved some slight acknowledgement, even if only on the duelling field.
Having made sure that neither the Baroness nor her husband was before him, Kit strolled into the Faro room. He might as well play. He had lost the only thing that would ever matter to him. Perhaps if he lost his wealth tonight, the Blaines would be less eager to have him as a son-in-law.
He settled down to play with reckless abandon.
Chapter Nineteen
Kit had been playing for over an hour, and losing heavily. He had not cared a jot—in fact, he had been rather pleased—until Lady Blaine had taken over the bank. Against her, he felt a need to win.
The Dowager, on Kit’s immediate right, had been remarkably polite to him, almost as if there had never been a feud between them. She was an unpredictable old woman, but she played a fine hand of cards. He would have sworn she could track the cards as well as he could himself.
The place on Kit
’s left hand had been vacant for a while. He had found himself wishing that Marina would take it, but he knew she would never do that. It would seem much too forward. She was sitting at the far end of the table, occasionally placing a small wager with a shaky hand. He supposed that the Dowager must have provided her with the stakes. Soon they would be gone. She was losing too often.
The bank’s first deal was over. Lady Blaine had won very heavily throughout. Too heavily? Had Kit missed something? He had heard rumours…
Lady Blaine smiled nastily at the Dowager, sitting immediately opposite her. ‘The luck would appear to be with the bank tonight, ma’am,’ she said, pulling the heap of winnings towards her. ‘Shall you attempt to recover your losses?’
To Kit’s enormous surprise, the Dowager pushed back her chair and rose. ‘No point in chasing your luck when it don’t intend to be caught,’ she said sharply. ‘Don’t worry, ma’am. I shan’t leave you without an opponent. Marina! Come and take my place. Your luck cannot possibly be worse than mine.’
Marina rose obediently from her seat and came round the table. She appeared hesitant and concerned. ‘Ma’am, I—’
The Dowager put her hand on Marina’s shoulder and forced her to sit. ‘Play,’ she said shortly. Then she fixed her gaze on Lady Blaine and issued a clear challenge. ‘Miss Beaumont takes my place and plays with my stakes. You will accept that, I take it, ma’am?’
Lady Blaine went rather red, but she nodded. She could not do otherwise in the Dowager’s house. Kit found he was rather enjoying the old woman’s mischief-making. Perhaps she was not such a harridan after all.
