Suddenly

by Candace Camp

  “Not everyone has your tender heart. I realized at last what my grandfather and Simon had tried to tell me from the start, that he had no interest in me, only in getting my money. He intended to take me to the town’s border and marry me. He told me that I had no choice now that I…that he…Anyway, I don’t know what I would have done. Then Simon came into the inn. He had followed us as soon as he found out what had happened, and he rescued me.”

  Charity clasped her hands together, her eyes shining. “Thank heaven Simon was able to find you.”

  “Yes. I felt as if God had answered my prayers. Simon was furious. He started hitting Reed, and I honestly don’t know what he would have done if the innkeeper hadn’t pulled him off. Simon broke Faraday’s nose and injured him rather badly, I think. It was weeks before Faraday dared to show his face in town again because of the bruises. Simon didn’t want to call Reed out, because everyone would have realized that there was some sort of scandal involving me, and it would have hurt my name. Besides, he told me, Reed was clearly not a gentleman. But Simon told Reed that if ever word got out of what had happened that night with me, Simon would personally see to it that Reed was ruined in society. Of course, Reed really could not tell, anyway, as it would have blackened his reputation, too, and ruined his chances of finding some other wealthy wife.”

  “No wonder Simon was furious with me when he saw me talking to Mr. Reed!” Blood rose in Charity’s face as she thought of how wrong and naive she had been about Faraday Reed. “This is awful! Why didn’t I believe Simon? I should have known he wouldn’t be unreasonable. I’ve made a terrible mess of it. He must be furious with me for the way I’ve acted, the things I’ve said to him. I thought he was just being dogmatic and unreasonable, you see. Do you think Simon will ever forgive me?”

  “Of course.” Venetia smiled warmly. “I think my brother would forgive you many things, far worse than that. I have never seen him so smitten.”

  “Do you really think so?” Charity could not help but remember Dure’s cold, calculating reasons for marrying, and his lack of concern over whether it was her or her sister. But, on the other hand, the kisses they shared had been anything but cold and indifferent; surely there was no calculation or reasonableness in his eager caresses. Could his sister be right? Was Simon coming to care for her as more than simply an “appropriate” wife?

  “But of course, my dear! That is why I had to tell you, even though I have never told anyone else about what happened that night, not even George. I could not let Faraday Reed come between you and Simon. I could not let him worm his way into your confidence and use you to hurt Simon.”

  “It was terribly brave of you to tell me,” Charity told her. “I’m sorry that you had to suffer through that ordeal again, even in recounting it.”

  “Well, ’tis over now and in the past.” Venetia smiled brightly, though a shadow still lurked in her eyes. “No one ever learned of it. Once Reed was gone, I was able to see what a wonderful person Lord Ashford was, and now I have a husband whom I love very much.”

  Charity looked thoughtful. “I don’t understand. Why does Reed hate Simon so much? I would think it is Simon who has far more reason to seek revenge than Mr. Reed.”

  “Because Faraday Reed is an unfeeling monster who thinks only of himself!” Venetia blurted out bitterly. “He never cared for me in the slightest. He pursued me only because my grandfather was wealthy, and he knew I would someday inherit money, which he would have control over. He is a vain man, and Simon humiliated him by beating him so soundly. He lost me, and he had to scramble to find some other heiress to marry. He has been bitter and angry with Simon ever since. All those rumors about Simon over the years—I’m certain that Reed is at the bottom of them. I have no way of proving it, but I’m positive that he spreads gossip about Simon and stirs up whatever there is already. He is a wicked man.”

  Charity gaped at her. “How can he be so evil?”

  Venetia shook her head. “I don’t know. He simply is. I don’t know how I could ever have been so deceived by him. But I promise you that he has not changed. I am certain he has been hovering around you because he hopes to win you from Simon, to publicly humiliate Simon with his conquest of you. The fact that he is married will not stop him from trying to seduce you.”

  “But how could he think that I would turn from Simon to him?” Charity asked, in such genuine puzzlement that Venetia laughed.

  “Because he does not know you or Simon, obviously. He thinks that he can win over any woman. His conceit is tremendous. Besides—” Venetia shrugged “—if he could not, he would not be above using force.”

  Charity gasped.

  “He did with me,” Venetia reminded her.

  Charity shook her head. “He is so deceitful. I never dreamed…He always seemed such a good friend. He never said a word against Simon, yet he was able to make him appear in the wrong. Why, the very way he pretended to have nothing against Simon made Simon’s stance seem unreasonable. He told me that they had quarreled over a woman. He made it seem as if it had been about a woman of the night, which put me out of sorts with Simon. And all the time the woman was you, and Mr. Reed had been completely in the wrong!”

  Suddenly Charity straightened, knowledge dawning on her face. “Those notes!”

  “What notes?” Venetia asked, perplexed.

  “Why didn’t I see it before? It never occurred to me. Those notes that I’ve been getting about Simon must have come from Mr. Reed!”

  “What are you talking about? What notes about Simon?”

  Quickly Charity filled Venetia in on the malicious letters. “And every time I got one, Faraday Reed was close by. The first was at the Rotterhams’ ball. He was there—he could easily have done it. The next time, a boy ran up to me in the park and gave it to me. I was there with Mr. Reed. No wonder the lad was able to find me. No doubt Reed told him exactly where we would be. The last time, he called on me shortly after I found the note amongst a vase of flowers. I’ve asked all the servants, and none would admit putting it there or seeing anyone else do so. But if it was Reed who asked, of course they would think it was all right, especially if he slipped a few coins to them. They’d assume it was a love letter. Then, when I questioned them and they saw something was wrong, of course they would have denied doing it.”

  “Where are these notes? Did you show them to Simon?”

  “Of course not. I didn’t want him to read such hateful things about himself. There was no one I could tell, really. I didn’t want my parents to read them, either, for fear they might begin to doubt Simon. My sisters would have been scared silly. They would have told my mother and father and who knows who else.”

  Venetia smiled. “It was very kind and loving of you to try to protect Simon. But you should have shown them to him. He would have been able to alleviate your doubt.”

  “I didn’t doubt Simon. But I didn’t want him even to wonder if I did. It seemed far better not to tell him. And Reed was always there to talk to.” She jutted out her jaw. “I can see how it must have been now. He sent me the first note, hoping it would frighten me into calling off the engagement. Then, when I didn’t scare so easily, he made sure he was with me when I got the next note, so that he could try to plant seeds of doubt in my mind. Once he even suggested that perhaps the sender thought the things he said were true. When I didn’t respond the way he hoped, he used the notes as a way to worm his way into my confidence. He pretended to be my friend, to believe in Simon’s innocence, so that I would like him and would rely on him. Oh, he must have laughed up his sleeve when I asked him to help me find who had sent the notes!”

  Bright red spots of color flamed in Charity’s cheeks. “Ooooh! I’d like to get hold of that man right now! I’d let him know what I think about him. I’d point out how very far he was from winning my affections. The next time I see him, I should go up to him and denounce him for what he’s done. The world ought to know what a scoundrel he is!”

  Venetia’s eyes widened in
alarm. “Charity, you can’t! I mean, it would create a scandal. You have no real proof who sent the notes.”

  “No. You’re right. And I couldn’t reveal what he did to you, of course.” Charity sighed. “I suppose that I shall have to keep my mouth shut. I will try to be content with giving him the cut direct. I’ll tell Mother never to receive him again. Don’t worry, I shan’t reveal what you’ve told me. Simply saying that the Earl of Dure wishes it will be enough to convince her.”

  Venetia smiled and reached over to take her hand. “Thank you so much.”

  “For what? I am the one who should thank you. You came and revealed such a personal, painful thing, merely to help me. I’m very grateful.”

  “I am grateful to you for not turning away from me when I told you what I had done.”

  “Turn away from you?” Charity exclaimed. “No! How could you think that?”

  “There are many who would. Who would refuse to receive a woman with a taint such as mine.”

  “You were never tainted. It was Faraday Reed who was at fault, not you! It’s no sin to be too trusting, too loving.” Charity’s eyes flashed. “The world would be a far better place if more people were like you. It is Reed who should be shunned.”

  Tears formed in Venetia’s eyes, and she blinked them away hastily. “Thank you. I am so glad that you are marrying Simon. I know you will make him happy.” Impulsively, she leaned over and gave Charity a hug.

  Charity squeezed her back. “I hope so. I want to.”

  “You will. I know it.” Venetia smiled at her.

  A few minutes later she took her leave. Charity sat back in her chair, trying to absorb all the things that Venetia had told her. Anger burned within her at what Reed had done to Venetia and what he had tried to do to her and Simon. She smiled grimly to herself. Faraday Reed might think she was a silly, naive country girl who could be easily twisted to his purpose. But he would soon find out that he had gotten hold of an entirely different sort of person.

  Charity avoided Reed ostentatiously after that. She turned away whenever he approached her, and if he joined a group with whom she was in conversation, she would immediately leave the group. As soon as she told her mother that Lord Dure did not want her to associate with Reed, Caroline instructed the servants that the family was no longer “at home” to Reed.

  Now, when she saw Reed across the room at a party, she could see that his smile was a little too smooth, that it touched his mouth but did not really reach his eyes. His courtesy appeared to her now to be blatant and false, not true coin. And when she compared his bland good looks and polished manner to Simon’s rugged masculinity, it was laughable that Reed could ever have thought that he might be able to seduce her away from Simon.

  Simon was what occupied her thoughts these days. Reed was a bit of a nuisance, trying to talk to her or dance with her at parties, “accidentally” running into her at a play, or calling on her, even though it was obvious that he was not being received in her home, but that was all he was. Simon, on the other hand, plagued her by his very absence.

  All the parties—the dinners, the balls, the soirees—were deadly dull without him there. She received one rather stiff and impersonal letter from him. It was good that the missive was impersonal, she knew, since her mother insisted on reading her correspondence from him, but she couldn’t help wishing that there had been more of his heart in the brief letter. She mailed a return to him, but it was equally stiff. She could not write about how much she missed him and wished him to return; she was afraid that would appear overbold from a woman he was marrying for purely “practical” reasons. She had, after all, told him that she would not cling or interfere with his activities, but would merrily go her own way. At the time, that promise had been easy. But the longer she knew Dure, the more she realized that she really did not want such a distant relationship with him. She wanted much more…but despite what Venetia had said, she was afraid that Dure did not feel the same way.

  Two weeks after Dure left, Charity attended the opera with Aunt Ermintrude and one of her elderly swains. Her mother and sisters had gone to a ball, but she had chosen to go with Aunt Ermintrude instead. It depressed her spirits to stand and watch the dancing without being able to sweep out onto the floor in Simon’s arms herself. Dancing with other gentlemen was little better. Charity was not particularly fond of the opera—in truth, she found it boring—but it seemed better than being bored and lonely at a glittering party. Besides, Aunt Ermintrude’s beau, a retired military gentleman with a sweeping white mustache, occupied nearly all her great-aunt’s time, leaving Charity free to pursue her own thoughts.

  The opera had been going on for almost an hour when there was a soft tap at the door. Charity glanced at Aunt Ermintrude and General Popham, neither of whom had even heard it. Aunt Ermintrude was busy peering through her opera glasses at a box some distance from them, making whispered comments under her breath to her swain. He was leaning close to Aunt Ermintrude and whispering back, seizing the opportunity to nuzzle her ear. Aunt Ermintrude was giggling coquettishly and tapping him now and again on his arm with her fan. This sort of byplay had been going on between the two of them almost from the first notes of the opera, and Charity suspected that Aunt Ermintrude was surveying the crowd more for a reason to whisper back and forth with the general than out of any real curiosity.

  Since neither of them even turned at the knock, Charity slipped quietly out of her chair and eased open the door. The Earl of Dure stood outside.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHARITY STARTED TO SHRIEK, and had to clap a hand over her mouth to hold back the noise, Without thinking, she threw the door open and flung herself against Dure’s chest. His arms closed automatically around her, and he lowered his face to her hair, breathing in her scent, luxuriating in her softness.

  “Simon!” she whispered. “Oh, Simon, you’re home! I’m so glad.”

  “Did you miss me?” he asked, in a less-than-steady voice.

  “Yes, oh, yes, I did. It has been the most awful two weeks.” She raised her glowing face to his, and Simon could not keep from kissing her.

  It was glorious to feel Simon’s warm lips on hers again, and Charity squeezed herself against him, delighting in his scent and touch and taste once more. He kissed her all over her face and neck—short, breathless kisses, as if he could not get enough of tasting her.

  Finally common sense prevailed, and Simon realized what a spectacle they would present to anyone who happened along the corridor. Their embrace was decidedly improper, especially in a public place like an opera house, and kissing was absolutely out of the question. Reluctantly he loosed his hold and stepped back. Still, his hands remained clasped around hers; he could not completely break contact with her.

  They stood for a moment, simply gazing at one another, smiling foolishly. Then Charity asked, “Why did you return early?”

  “I found it made little difference whether I was there or here. I still kept thinking about you,” he replied huskily. “I still wanted you all the time. Only there, I didn’t have the pleasure of actually seeing you or hearing your voice. I decided it would be better to be tied up in knots, wanting you, here. At least I wouldn’t be bored, as well.”

  His words were exactly what Charity had wished to hear. A smile blazed across her face. Simon brought her hand up to his mouth, laying a whisper of a kiss upon her skin.

  He wanted to do much more. The past two weeks had been worse than his words had been able to express. He had found himself bored and lonely and missing Charity in a way he had never missed anyone. He realized how much she had brightened his life, how much each day had been laid around seeing her. Being away from her had only made him hunger more for her, not the opposite, as he had hoped.

  It was not that he loved her, he told himself; it was just that he desired her, that he found her amusing, and that life with her promised to be entertaining and fun. She took the gloom away, her sunny spirit creeping into the shadows of death and pain and lo
st love that lay around him. He wanted to possess her, to make her his wife and take her to his bed. There were times when it seemed that his entire being ached to sink into her and find release. Waiting to marry her was torture, but not seeing her at all was even worse.

  Charity pulled him into the opera box, and they sat down at the back of it. Aunt Ermintrude and Popham noticed their arrival no more than they had Charity’s departure a few minutes earlier. Simon took Charity’s hand, and they talked softly, their heads together.

  “When did you get back?” Charity asked, more interested in the warmth of his hand around hers and in the closeness of his face than in his answer.

  “Not long ago. I dressed and went to your house as soon as I arrived. The footman told me where you were, so I came straight here.”

  Charity smiled, pleased by the indication of his eagerness to see her. “And what of Lucky? Did he enjoy his new home?”

  “Oh, yes. There was so much more sport for him there, you see—chasing the sheep and nipping at the cows’ heels, jumping into the pond and coming back to shake off the muddy water on Mrs. Channing’s waxed floors.”

  Charity chuckled. “I’m glad he’s happy there.”

  Simon shifted in his seat, then cleared his throat, and said finally, “Well, actually…he isn’t there. I brought him home with me.”

  “I knew you wouldn’t have the heart to abandon him!” Charity exclaimed, squeezing his hand. The glow in the gaze she turned on him was enough to make his pulse speed up.

  “Then you know more about me than I do,” he said, forcing a casual tone. “I had every intention of leaving him…until today. He seemed to sense that I was going, and he was on my heels the whole time. When I got in the carriage and started down the drive, he ran after us the whole way, howling. I kept taking him back, but he kept following, until finally I let him up in the carriage with me.” He sighed. “My town staff was quite downcast to see him with me when I returned. I could give no excuse except that I suffered from a temporary brain fever.”