My Lady Notorious

by Jo Beverley

  He pulled her head around to face him. “You are Chastity Ware, and my future wife. If my family doesn’t accept you with open arms, I’ll cut myself off from them forever.”

  “Cyn, no!”

  “Ride,” he snapped, and slapped her mount’s rump to get it on its way. Chastity muttered a few choice opinions of men, but he ignored her.

  She found she could ride at this steady pace. The bulk of her skirts and a time of healing had erased most of the pain. Nothing could erase her dread of what was to come, however. She searched for ways to prevent this new disaster—that she cause Cyn to break with his family.

  All too soon, he turned toward a gate in a hedge and opened it. Chastity followed him through with foreboding, though it led only into a field.

  “Home ground,” he said, confirming her fears. “But there’s a few miles yet to go. How are you?”

  “I’m fine. But Cyn,” she said before he could speed up again, “couldn’t you leave me in a cottage, or such?”

  “No,” he said abruptly, then rode off at a canter.

  Chastity held her horse in and waited. He reined in and wheeled back, mouth set, tight as a bow. “If necessary, I’ll truss you up and carry you, Chastity. That will be a pretty picture.”

  In this mood, he’d do it too.

  “Cyn, I’ll come, but only on one condition.”

  “What?”

  “That you promise not to blame your family for what happens.”

  “Why are you so sure they’ll reject you? By the devil, we’re none of us of unspotted purity—except possibly my sister.”

  “I’m sure your sister is virtuous. If she’s at home, she’ll have to turn her back on me. To do otherwise would be to sink herself as low.”

  “Devil take it, will you stop talking like that!”

  “It’s the truth, and you can’t change it!”

  “I can do what I damn well please! If I present you to my family as a virtuous lady, they had better treat you as such.”

  “Virtuous! I’m your mistress!”

  He closed his eyes briefly. “I should never have touched you, should I? I shouldn’t have used you as I did this morning, even in fun. I’ve eroded your self-respect.”

  “Cyn, no!”

  He looked down at his hands on the reins, his mouth bitter. “Before that night in Rood House, no matter what the world said, you knew you were pure. That gave you the strength I admired from the first. I’ve taken it from you.”

  “Are you saying I’m weak now?” She made it a challenge, hoping to jerk him out of his bitterness, but she knew in a way his words were true.

  He met her eyes. “Weaker.”

  “Thank you,” she said flatly.

  “It’s the truth. I’ve taken your honor.”

  “You didn’t take anything. I gave it, freely and with joy.”

  “But I should have waited until we were wed.”

  “That would be to wait forever.”

  “Not at all,” he said calmly. “I intend to bring back a license for us as well as Verity.”

  “You can’t,” Chastity pointed out, not without relish. “I’m under age, and Father will never, ever consent.”

  His horse shifted under a sudden movement. “Plague take it, I’d forgotten that. We’ll find a way.” He shrugged. “If not, we’ll wait until you’re of age. When will that be?”

  “A year next April.”

  “A wait,” he remarked, “but not forever. You’ll spend the time with my family.”

  “Oh, Cyn!” she protested. “Now, I’m not just to be presented to them, I’m to make my home with them?”

  “Yes.” He touched her hand. “Chastity, I know your experiences make it hard, but I’d like you to trust me, just this once.”

  “I trust you, but…”

  “My family will not reject you. I am sure of it.”

  “Not even your sister?”

  “Not even Elf. She’ll be startled, and suspect you’re not good enough for me. But she’d suspect that of any woman in the land.”

  “And Rothgar?”

  “The same.”

  Chastity didn’t believe a word of it. “Then why are you geared for battle?”

  His eyes widened in surprise, but then he laughed. “I told you a secret once—that all soldiers are afraid before battle. I’m not wound up for a fight, love, I’m just afraid.”

  “Of what?”

  He shrugged uneasily. “Perhaps afraid isn’t quite the right word… It’s a natural disinclination to back down. I once told Rothgar to his face that I’d never accept anything from him, that I’d make my way in life on my own merits. Now I’m going to have to back down.”

  It was said simply, but she knew from the way he had always been on edge about his brother that this wasn’t easy for him. That it was a great sign of love. “To ask him to receive me?” she asked gently.

  “No,” he said in surprise. “I take that for granted. But the world of Society is not my world. If we’re to disentangle your situation, we’ll need his help.”

  “What? Cyn, even Rothgar can’t whiten my sepulcher.”

  A familiar grin lit his face. “But he’s a Malloren. Like me, he loves nothing so much as a challenge. Come on.”

  Still she held back. “You didn’t promise. If your family won’t accept me, you must not blame them.”

  He shook his head. “Very well, I promise, but it won’t be necessary. Trust me.”

  Chapter 17

  They came at the house from the side and rode directly to the stables. Rothgar Abbey was a solid Elizabethan house from this angle, but Chastity could see it had a more modern Palladian facade. The grounds too were a mix, with formal knot-gardens and topiary close to the house, and rolling parkland beyond. Peacocks stalked among the formal gardens, while deer grazed the meadows, discreetly kept from the gardens by a sunken ha-ha.

  An air of order and prosperity glowed about the Abbey, making it very like her own home. It was not what she had expected of the home of the man they called the Dark Marquess.

  They left the horses with a startled groom, and Cyn led her toward a side door. He was visibly tense, and Chastity was in a fine state of nerves. She wished she didn’t have to do this, but if she did, she wished desperately that she had something better to wear than a mixture of whore’s and servant’s garments.

  He seemed to sense her unhappiness and stopped to kiss her. “Trust me, Chastity.”‘

  What could she say to that? She bolstered her fragile self-confidence with the thought that at least she had hair.

  The side door led into a plain corridor between storage rooms, and they progressed some way before meeting anyone. Then a maid swung around a corner, jerking to a startled halt. She bobbed a curtsy. “Welcome home, milord,” she said, and flattened out of their way. Even in this unexpected situation, she showed her training and allowed only the slightest flicker of her eyes toward Chastity.

  “Thank you,” said Cyn. “Who’s here?”

  “All the family, milord.”

  At his nod, the maid hurried off.

  That meant his sister, Chastity thought, who would be horrified to be in the presence of Chastity Ware. That meant Rothgar, who—heaven help her—might recognize the whore at Rood House. Chastity’s nerve broke.

  “Oh, Cyn,” she whispered. “You don’t have to do this. It will put them in an impossible situation.” She seized her courage. “You don’t need Rothgar’s help. I’ll be your mistress, and my reputation won’t matter a fig.”

  He turned sharply. “Your reputation matters to you, and you will not be my mistress.” He looked steadily into her eyes. “In fact, I give you my word now, Chastity. I will not bed you again until you are my wife.” Before she could think what to say, he grasped her wrist. “Come.”

  It was walk or be dragged.

  They emerged suddenly into a magnificent gilt-and-marble hall. Two liveried footmen stood there, and even these well-trained individuals stared at their sudde
n appearance.

  “The marquess?” Cyn asked.

  “In the Tapestry Room, milord,” said one footman, and hurried forward to open a door.

  Two people were in the small, tapestry-hung room— a red-haired woman in filmy white silk sat on a chaise, and the Marquess of Rothgar stood by the fireplace. They both turned at the opening of the door.

  “Cyn!” the woman cried, and rose to run forward. “What a wretch you are to give us such a fright!”

  Cyn released Chastity to swing his sister into a hug. Anyone in the world could tell they were sister and brother, and now Chastity remembered they were twins.

  The resemblance was not very close, however, for Lady Elf—whom she’d met once in London—had red hair and blue eyes.

  Cyn let go of his sister and took Chastity’s hand. “Elf, this is Lady Chastity Ware. I’ve brought her to stay for a while. Chastity, this is my sister, Lady Elfled. In the family we call her Elf. I never explained our strange names, did I? Our father had a positive passion for things Anglo-Saxon. He managed to prove to his satisfaction, at least, that our bloodline contains little Norman contamination. So he named us all after Anglo-Saxon heroes and heroines.”

  An unkind critic would have said Cyn was babbling, and putting off the moment of truth.

  Chastity had seen his sister’s eyes widen at her name and flick to her oldest brother, but Lady Elf made a good recover. “Elfled was the Lady of the Mercians,” she said. “A mighty character, and virtual ruler of England for many years. Cynric was merely a tolerable minor king. Rothgar has the burden of being called Beowulf. He, of course, was a mythic hero.”

  With this, she avoided actually welcoming Chastity and neatly turned all their attention to Rothgar, who had not come forward, but stood waiting by the fire. Chastity swallowed. Was this a preliminary to rejection? And what would Cyn do then?

  Chastity’s eyes met Rothgar’s across the room. He was studying her, his expression completely unreadable.

  They were all moving toward Rothgar. Beowulf. She’d never considered what his Christian name might be. She wasn’t sure it suited him, though Wolf would. She realized that, mentally at least, she too was babbling.

  He was in a plain brown country coat and buckskin breeches, but not one whit less impressive than he had been in brocade and lace.

  “Rothgar,” said Cyn quite steadily, “I believe you have met Lady Chastity. I have brought her to stay, since she is to be my wife.”

  Lady Elfled gasped. Chastity forced herself to keep her chin up and meet Rothgar’s cool gray eyes as she waited for the explosion. It did not come. He bowed. “Then we are honored to have you here, Lady Chastity. Won’t you be seated? Unless you would prefer that Elf show you directly to your room?”

  Was that a hint that she should leave him and Cyn alone to fight? Chastity sat firmly on a chaise.

  “Perhaps you would like some tea, Lady Chastity,” said Elfled nervously. “Or some other kind of refreshment.”

  “No, thank you.” Chastity knew she should pay more attention to Cyn’s sister, but all her faculties were fixed on Rothgar and Cyn.

  “We are pleased to see you home,” the marquess said to his brother. “And well?”

  “Perfectly well, thank you.”

  “And—forgive me for mentioning it—my coach? There was some talk of highwaymen…?”

  “A mere jape. The coach, and Hoskins, are in reasonable order in Winchester.”

  “Ah, you relieve my mind. Winchester,” he mused. “A sudden interest in antiquities?”

  “A sudden avoidance of villains,” said Cyn bluntly. “I’ve been adventuring. In fact, the adventure isn’t over and I must be on my way. I just need your word that you will treat Chastity with the respect due to my future wife, and that under no circumstances will you give her over to her father.”

  Rothgar glanced cryptically at Chastity. “Walgrave? You have it. There’s no love lost between us.”

  “And the first part?” Cyn persisted.

  “My dear boy,” said Rothgar gently, “as a guest in my house, she is due all respect, regardless of her future.”

  It was a neat side-step, and Chastity saw Cyn’s mouth tighten in recognition. It contained the necessary promise, however. Cyn turned to Chastity. “You’ll be safe here. I’ll be back as soon as I can, perhaps even today.” He fixed her with a look. “Promise me you won’t leave, for any reason.”

  She didn’t want to be abandoned here, wished she could once again ask to go with him. “How can I promise not to leave? What if the house burns down?”

  “Don’t be facetious.”

  “That from you?” she exclaimed. “Am I allowed to walk in the gardens, even?”

  “Only under escort.”

  “Cyn, really—”

  He leaned forward, caging her on the chaise. “Promise me,” he said.

  She saw he was in deadly earnest. “Very well. Now, will you please go and get Verity’s license.”

  She saw the flicker pass over Cyn’s face and bit her lip. He’d not wanted to mention Verity.

  “Ah,” said Rothgar, “so you have a finger in that pie. I’m pleased to hear Lady Verity and her child are well. And, perhaps, in Winchester?”

  “No,” said Cyn coolly. “I hope that by now they are in Long Knotwell awaiting a marriage license.”

  Rothgar accepted it without a blink. “Do you need any help acquiring it?”

  “No, thank you.” But Cyn hesitated, bracing himself.

  Chastity thought the atmosphere could be cut with a knife. This was no time to be asking Rothgar’s help in her lost cause. She rose to her feet. “Cyn, go, please. Once Verity is safe, there will be time for other things.”

  He grasped her shoulders and pulled her to him for a quick, heated, and most improper kiss. Chastity was left flustered and quite unable to meet her host’s eyes.

  Cyn headed for the door. It swung open to admit another man, as tall as Rothgar, as gingery as Lady Elfled. Another Malloren. Lord Brand, she thought.

  “Greetings, little brother! Safe in the nest at last.”

  “Not for long,” said Cyn briskly, but not rudely.

  The newcomer looked intrigued. Rothgar said, “I think it would be wise for Brand to accompany you, Cyn.” For Rothgar, the tone was remarkably tentative.

  Cyn swung around. “Plague take it, I can find my way to London without a nursemaid!”

  “So I would hope. But travel is always chancy, the roads are cluttered with undesirables, and your mission appears to be important. A companion could be useful and will not slow you down.”

  Silence hung heavily for long moments, then Cyn said, “Very well. If Brand is willing.” It was delivered in the manner of one agreeing to an amputation.

  “Nothing could please me more,” said Brand dryly. “And here I am dressed for riding. I’ll call for my cape and we’re off.”

  He left the room. Cyn took a visible breath and walked back to his brother. “I’m going to the Bishop of London, with the bridegroom’s sworn statement. If you sent a note along, it might reassure Uncle Cuthbert about the matter.”

  It seemed a simple enough request, but Cyn had said he’d sworn not to take help from Rothgar, and it was clearly true. Lady Elfled’s face, and even Rothgar’s, told Chastity this moment held significance.

  “There is no impediment to the marriage?” Rothgar asked calmly.

  Cyn looked at Chastity. “Not to my knowledge.”

  Chastity said, “Absolutely none, except the opposition of my father. As Verity is of age, that presents no legal impediment.”

  Rothgar went to a desk, scrawled some words on a sheet of paper, sanded, and sealed it. He gave it to Cyn. “You will take the license directly to this Long Knotwell?”

  “I had better.”

  “Perhaps we should meet you there, then. Lady Chastity will wish to see her sister wed, and it would be wise to have influential witnesses.”

  Cyn frowned at Chastity. “She’s tired…�
�

  “I’m well enough,” Chastity said quickly. “I want to be there and make sure everything is all right.”

  “In a coach,” said Cyn firmly to his brother.

  “But of course. It will, unfortunately, have to be my second one.”

  Cyn let out a crack of laughter. “It will suffice. And as I intend to marry Chastity as soon as possible, I’d appreciate it if you’d consider how to restore her reputation and obtain her father’s approval of the match.”

  Brand overheard the request as he returned and let out a muttered “‘Struth!”

  Even Rothgar seemed lost for words, but then he said, “‘Twill be my pleasure.” There seemed to be layers of meaning to the simple words.

  Cyn merely nodded, then he and Brand departed.

  Chastity was left with the marquess and Lady Elfled.

  Rothgar looked at Chastity again. It was not a particularly unpleasant look, and yet it made her want to squirm. Cyn was right. This moment would be a great deal easier if she knew in her heart she was pure.

  “We have work to do,” he said at last. “But I suspect you have been hard-pressed, Lady Chastity. Why don’t you allow Elf to pamper you a little, while I set some wheels in motion?”

  “There is no need for this, my lord,” said Chastity firmly. “I know the marriage is impossible, and Cyn will come to see that too.”

  Rothgar’s brows shot up. “My dear! With a Malloren, all things are possible.” With this bit of arrogant sacrilege, he left the room.

  “Oh, dear,” said Lady Elfled.

  Chastity swallowed, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want this.”

  In a moment, Lady Elfled was beside her on the chaise. “Please don’t be upset, Lady Chastity. It’s not you I’m oh-dearing about. It’s us—the Mallorens. We seem unable to do anything in a simple way… But you have thawed the ice between Cyn and Rothgar. You are a blessing, not a curse.”

  That was laying it on a bit thick, thought Chastity. “I’m sure they could smooth any misunderstanding without my assistance.”

  “One would think so, but they haven’t managed it for the past six years.”

  Chastity stared at her. “They’ve been at outs for six years?”

  Lady Elfled sighed. “At outs is not quite it. Cyn has come home on furlough, for he certainly would not cut himself off from me, and there have rarely been harsh words. But there have been barriers. Cyn has never accepted any help. I wasn’t present, but I understand that when Rothgar stopped Cyn from joining the army, he cast doubts upon his ability to survive unaided.”