by Jo Beverley
“The scoundrel,” muttered someone in the crowd. “Horsewhip the wretch.”
“I fear,” said Rothgar, “that is impossible. The earl’s anguish was so great, he shot the man.”
There was a distinct murmur of approval.
The princess was a little skeptical. “It is a strange story, my lord.”
“Extremely strange,” agreed Rothgar, “but the earl insisted on recording one crucial aspect of the truth.”
The princess took the paper Rothgar gave her and read it. “Extraordinary,” she remarked. “This does make it clear that poor Lady Chastity was more virtuous than it appeared. Perhaps her name suits her rather better than we had supposed.”
“And I would like to add my word,” came a voice. Nerissa Trelyn walked forward. Chastity noted that though he faded away, Bryght appeared to have been with her, and for once he looked amused.
Nerissa was composed, but she was as pale as her pristine gown. She curtsied low to the princess. “I apologize for being from your side when this dreadful event occurred, your highness.”
Augusta could play a part, too. She waved a hand. “I gave you permission to absent yourself. But what word do you have to add, Lady Trelyn? Were you not one of those who reported Lady Chastity’s shame?”
“Indeed, your highness,” said Nerissa demurely, “which makes it all the more important that I now right the wrong. Lord Trelyn and I—” The beauty directed her doe-like eyes at her doting husband, and he hurried forward to stand at her side. “—we hesitated to support the story, for we knew Lady Chastity a little and thought her to be virtuous. We felt that at the worst she had been guilty of an indiscretion. It was only when she appeared unrepentant that we were obliged to speak.”
“And now you know better?” asked Augusta.
“Indeed.” Nerissa was the picture of a beautiful, virtuous woman. “After your highness so kindly permitted me to dance with my husband, I was taken faint by the heat and perfumes in the ballroom.” She lowered her head coyly. “Your highness will understand. I am in an interesting condition…”
“Ah,” said Augusta. “Of course.”
Trelyn preened with pride.
“I went into the cool of the conservatory. While I was there, people entered the small saloon off the conservatory, leaving me no way to depart other than by going outside. I could not risk a chill. I heard all that took place. Mr. Vernham confessed his wicked plot, and that he did not… did not sully Lady Chastity. The earl was distraught to think that he had so misjudged his daughter, as am I.”
Augusta was no fool, and Chastity could see that she smelled a rat in all this, but she had nothing to gain by opposing it, and risked scandal if her presence here with Lord Bute were revealed.
“A sad case,” she said. “I wonder what became of the unfortunate girl. Perhaps she can be found and we can do something to restore her good name. A respectable marriage would be in order.”
Rothgar’s eyes found Chastity. She stood frozen to the spot, hating the thought of baring herself before this crowd, who were standing around as if watching a play.
But Cyn’s hand firmly pushed her forward. Heart pounding, she walked shakily over to Rothgar. “This is she, your highness. May I present Lady Chastity Ware?”
It was the telling moment, for presentation to royalty was the sine qua non of respectability.
Augusta stared at Chastity for a long moment. Then she smiled, if a little thinly, and held out her hand. Chastity sank into a deep curtsy to kiss it.
“You appear to have been hard done to, my dear,” said the princess. “Do you swear now before witnesses that you are pure?”
Chastity rose, knowing her face had flamed. She prayed it be taken for embarrassment and sought words of truth. “I vow before heaven that I was a virgin when Henry Vernham sneaked into my bed, your highness, and that I did not invite him there. Thanks to Divine Providence he did not have opportunity to despoil me before I was rescued.” She turned to Nerissa Trelyn. “You cannot know how grateful I was that you came at that time, my lady. I do understand how hard it must have been to believe me virtuous.”
Nerissa managed to squeeze real tears from her big eyes, and embraced Chastity in a cloud of familiar rose perfume. “You poor dear innocent!” She turned to Augusta and knelt theatrically. “Your highness. We must do all in our power to correct this wrong, or my conscience will never be at ease.”
“Of course we must,” said the princess, though with a jaundiced air. She considered, then said, “This event has been a sad shock to my nerves. I will rest here a few days. Lord Rothgar, if that is possible.”
“Rothgar Abbey will be honored, your highness.”
“And as Lady Trelyn is in a delicate condition, I will need additional ladies-in-waiting. Perhaps Lady Chastity and Lady Elfled will fill those posts pro-tem.”
Both ladies curtsied deeply. “It will be a great honor, your highness,” said Elf.
“Information about this revelation must be sent to the newssheets which have delighted in spreading the scurrilous falsehoods.” Augusta looked at Chastity and her eyes did seem to soften. “Lady Chastity, I’m sure your experiences have been shocking, but a marriage would be wise, especially one that would keep you away from London for some time.”
Chastity wished she knew her lines in this play. She curtsied again. “I am willing to be guided by you, your highness.” She saw Augusta’s brows rise and realized her rings were visible. Oh, Lord.
Rothgar stepped forward. “I believe my brother, Captain Lord Cynric Malloren, would be willing to marry Lady Chastity. He has served the country well in the army, and is, I think, now interested in doing so in the administration of the Canadas.”
“The Canadas,” said Augusta dryly as Cyn came forward. “An excellent notion, and so very convenient, my lords. It could almost have been planned.”
Chastity wanted the earth to swallow her. Cyn took her hand and squeezed it.
“As the lady is recently bereaved,” said Augusta, “it would be as well to have the marriage performed privately and soon. I assume that too presents no problem.”
“It will be as you command,” said Rothgar, admirably straight-faced. A sparkling look flashed between him and Augusta.
The princess’ lips twitched with genuine humor. “Rogue,” she said reprovingly. “I suppose you intend that I crown all this by standing witness to the match. Why not? I’m sure my son can be brought to attend too.”
Chastity stared at the princess in shock. The king as well. Rothgar lost not one whit of his calm. “Your highness is, as always, supremely gracious.”
“Indeed,” said Augusta. “You will remember that, my lord. Now, after such drama, I require a room in which to rest.”
She sailed toward the door but halted near the cloak-shrouded body, eyes fixed on a distant point. The corpse was hastily dragged out of the way and a small carpet flung on top to cover the blood. The queen then continued, Elf and Chastity in her wake.
“Good,” said Lady Fanshaw. “Now can we get on with the damn game?”
Later, much later, the Mallorens, Frazers, and Wares gathered to celebrate and wonder. Except Fort. Fort— silent and deeply anguished—was with his father’s body.
“My lord,” demanded Chastity of Rothgar, “how much of that was planned?”
He smiled slightly. “Shall I claim all of it, and supernatural powers to boot? No, but the secret of genius is to be ready to grasp opportunity. I confess I hoped to push your father into more damning admissions, but then I did not expect to push him into madness and violence. I am sorry for it.”
“I’m not, except for Fort’s part.” Chastity faced their shock. “Not because of what he did to me, but because of what he was capable of doing. I knew he was mad, but he could conceal it so well. No matter what sword hung over him, he would never have ceased to weave his plots, and he cared nothing for anyone else. Think if he had gained power over England.”
“I fear you are right,” sai
d Rothgar. “The business of the false letter was planned, of course. I hoped that, if all else failed, it would throw him off-balance. As it did.”
“And Henry Vernham?” asked Verity.
Rothgar shook his head. “A greedy fool, but I hadn’t expected such an end. I must confess that at that moment, I began to think as Chastity does. The earl shot him like a dog. That is a very dangerous man to leave loose upon the world.”
“And Fort shot Father in turn,” said Chastity. “He is heartsick over it.”
Cyn took her hand. “It had to be done, love, and he was the only one with a clear shot.”
Chastity wasn’t sure about that, but she let it pass. “What of the princess?” she asked. “Why did you invite her?”
“Acceptance by royalty was essential to my plans,” said Rothgar. “I admit that I did not forget the deep enmity between her and Walgrave. I hoped that she would support us if she saw it as a means to thwart him. I did not, you see, expect him to die.”
Chastity shook her head admiringly. “Now tell me, my lord. How was Nerissa Trelyn brought to act? The letter?”
“That is Bryght’s story.”
Bryght Malloren smiled wryly. “Dear Nerissa was delighted to seduce me in the conservatory. I didn’t have to do a thing but lie back and enjoy it. Then, as planned, we were trapped. She became rather worried, for I am the one man of whom her stupid husband is jealous. We listened, but she had no urge to clear Chastity’s name until I showed her the letter. I’m afraid Nerissa is not at all pleased with any of us.”
“I’m not sure the princess is either,” said Verity.
“True, but she is a sensible woman overall,” said Rothgar. “She is annoyed to be embroiled, but rather grateful to me for casting a cloak of respectability over this jaunt.” He raised a brow at Chastity. “I understand Cyn promised that if you were restored to honor, he would not insist upon marriage, but we have rather forced your hand.”
Chastity looked at her rings. “For once, my lord, he had already broken a promise.”
“Yes,” said Rothgar somewhat severely, “and those rings could have ruined all. In future, you will kindly not embellish my plots.”
Cyn kissed Chastity’s hand by the rings. “In future, we hope to be free of your plots.”
“Now that’s gratitude for you,” said Rothgar, but he was smiling.
Soon Chastity and Cyn found themselves alone in a house, resting deeply after the excitement. Most of the public rooms were still being cleaned after the ball, and all the spare bedrooms were full of guests who had elected to stay. So they ended up in Cyn’s bedroom, in each other’s arms on the bed.
“But no impropriety until we’re married,” he said.
“In two days,” Chastity said in wonder.
“As long as your brother keeps his word and consents.”
“Why would he object?”
Cyn’s tone turned wry. “Because the Mallorens are once again at odds with the Wares. He thinks Rothgar forced him to pull the trigger.”
“How could he think that? No one even knew my father would try to shoot the princess.”
“No, but Rothgar sent Fort to the far side of the hall, so he was near the princess. When the moment came, either Rothgar or Brand could have fired at your father, but they didn’t, forcing Fort to it.”
“I saw Rothgar hold Brand back,” said Chastity. “I did wonder.”
She could tell Cyn was troubled too. “I think it was because no one would think Fort inspired by malice, whereas the enmity between Rothgar and Walgrave is well known.”
Chastity shivered. “I quite like Rothgar, but at times he makes my blood run cold. Poor Fort.”
“Poor everyone. I hope this doesn’t mean continued bitterness, but if your brother and mine are going to show their teeth, I thank God that we, at least, will be far away. You’ll like Acadia, love.”
Chastity leaned back with a contented sigh. “I’m sure I will. It should be called Arcadia—a perfect place.” She rolled and reached up for a kiss. “Our own special heaven.”
Cyn kissed her but said wryly. “Have I misled you? It’s a beautiful place, but wild and rough.”
“You’ll be there,” she said simply.
The next kiss grew dangerously deep, but Cyn found the strength to end it and push her to her feet. “Come on. To your room. After all this, we’re not going to start again by having you found in a compromising situation.”
“Ah,” said Chastity mischievously, as he steered her toward the door, “but at least I could be persuaded to marry you, sir…”
Chapter 22
The wedding was of startling magnificence. Many of the guests had stayed after the dramatic ball; others had been invited especially for the wedding—people of social importance, and a sprinkling of avid gossips.
Prodded by Princess Augusta, the king and his new bride arrived to take part. George’s ostensible reason was to make sure that his beloved mother was recovered from her ordeal, but he and his plain German bride were quite obviously pleased to be present at the event of the year.
After careful consideration—for he was rather dull but very conscientious—George agreed to allow the Notorious Chastity Ware to be presented to him, and then laboriously quipped that she was clearly notorious for her beauty and virtue. His shy wife appeared agreeable, and commented on the keeper ring so like her own.
Chastity’s wedding gown was a cloud of purest white. She had hesitated about this, but Rothgar had firmly overruled her. Due to the shortness of time there was not a great deal of fancy needlework on the gown, but since it was composed of the most expensive silk Valenciennes lace, festooned with pearls and diamonds, that hardly mattered.
Rothgar had ordered it. Fort had paid for it, which could be another reason for enmity. It would have bankrupted a less wealthy family. Fort had returned—in severest black—to give his sister away. His manner to all the Mallorens was frigid. By comparison, Bryght Malloren was positively jovial, for he seemed to be recovering at last from Nerissa Trelyn’s spell.
Elf and Verity were Chastity’s attendants, but the mother and wife of the king insisted on sitting by for the robing. Chastity had the feeling that Princess Augusta hoped to see some sign of wantonness. She was deeply relieved that the stain had finally worn off her nipples.
Chastity’s very anxiety, her feeling that at any moment this bubble would burst and leave her naked again before the malice of the world, appeared to convince Augusta that she was a suitably nervous bride.
Augusta tapped her cheek as she left. “Perhaps you feel hurried into this match, my dear, but it is for the best. Some of the damage has been repaired, but as a well-married woman you will be safer, especially when part of the Malloren family. Few would risk offending there. And out of the country you will have time to settle into your new state. My son has appointed your husband aide to General Lawrence, the Governor of Acadia. I have included a message with the dispatches to reassure his lady in case any unfortunate rumors might have traveled there.”
The younger queen accepted the curtsies of all the ladies as she rose to leave. She raised Chastity and leaned close. “Truly,” she said in her heavy German accent, “you must not be afraid.” She turned pink. “It is all… it is rather nice, actually!” She then hurried off.
Chastity shared a hilarious look with her sister, but in truth, she was touched by the queen’s attempt to soothe her fears. If only someone would soothe her real fears.
That this would all turn out to be dream.
That her father would appear again to torment her.
That someone would stand at the ceremony to denounce her.
That someone would face her with the question—
Have you ever made love to a man? She would not be able to lie convincingly.
She trembled slightly as Fort led her to the chapel in Rothgar Abbey.
He sensed her tension and stopped, frowning. “Do you not want to do this, Chastity? God knows, by any right you s
hould marry him, but I failed you once, and I won’t a second time. If you wish, I’ll prevent it, Rothgar and all the Mallorens be damned.”
Chastity knew he’d be glad of a fight. She found a reassuring smile. “I want it, Fort. Truly. I’m just terrified something will prevent it.”
He smiled back, though bleakly. “Come on, then. Let’s have it done with.”
Cyn wore dull gold velvet trimmed with glittering braid. His hair was unpowdered. The gold seemed to leap into his eyes at the sight of her, as if he too had been afraid this event would never take place.
They had been busy these past few days and seen all too little of each other. In some ways that had been as well, however, as it had demanded less of their willpower.
Fort hesitated as he handed Chastity over to Cyn. “Hurt her, Malloren,” he said softly, “and I’ll destroy you.”
Cyn merely raised his brows. “The protective brother? A new tack for you.”
Chastity hastily put her hand in Cyn’s and moved between them. He smiled lazily down at her and kissed her hand. “Hello, Charles.”
Chastity felt the blush and turned her attention to the Abbey’s chaplain.
She hardly followed the ceremony for stretching every sense she possessed in search of the first sign of disruption, disruption that would indicate that someone was going to stop this marriage. She spoke by rote as prompted, and suddenly found herself facing Cyn, her husband.
“Oh,” she said. “But I didn’t do it right! Can we do it again?”
Laughter rippled through the chapel. Cyn’s lips twitched. “Why not?”
So they said their vows again, and this time they looked at each other, and made their vows solemnly to each other. Then they kissed, the lightest touching of lips.
Hand in hand, they mingled as the guests took wine and cake. Chastity saw some close and even cynical looks—especially at her waistline—but in view of the overwhelming acceptance, especially by royalty, none turned their back.
Already, she knew, coyly in newssheet, frankly in letters and gossip, the story of poor Chastity Ware flew about the country, made even more sensational by the scandalous deaths of Henry Vernham and the Earl of Walgrave.
