Aaron and Connie smiled at this news. Her father visibly sagged with relief, a little overcome. All Lizzie could do was slump back into her chair.
Again Ockendon chose to ignore Hal and snarled at Lizzie instead. ‘Am I to assume you will not be announcing our engagement tonight?’
‘I would prefer complete ruination than a single day spent as your wife.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘So be it.’
Ockendon turned on his heel and stalked towards the door. ‘When I leave here, I am going to tell the world about your bastard!’
Quick as a flash, Hal was out of his chair and hot on his tail. One large hand grabbed the Earl’s collar and pulled him back, then shoved him ruthlessly against the wall. ‘If you ever speak to her like that again, they will be the last words you ever say.’
The older man’s rheumy eyes widened in fear as Hal lifted him from the ground by his lapels, but he still spat and clawed like a cat. ‘Unhand me! I do not dance to your tune, Redbridge.’
‘Actually. You do.’ Hal let go and stood back simultaneously, so swiftly and unexpectedly that Ockendon was not ready and dropped on to his bottom on the carpet. Instantly, Hal was all lazy charm again. ‘I assume you are familiar with the Norwich Municipal Bank? You should be, seeing as you owe them a great deal of money...’
‘I am sure I have no idea what you mean!’ Ockendon scrambled to his feet, tried and failed to appear nonplussed.
‘Come now...’ Hal began to straighten the Earl’s crumpled lapels ‘...they lent you eight thousand pounds. Eight thousand pounds you are struggling to pay back. Eight thousand pounds which would render you bankrupt if the loan was suddenly called in.’ Fear made the tendons in the Earl’s scrawny neck stand out. Made him lick his vile lips nervously. ‘I suppose now is as good a time as any to inform you that I am now the majority shareholder of the Norwich Municipal Bank. I hold sixty-eight per cent, in case you were wondering. Sixty. Eight. Per. Cent. So you see, you do dance to my tune, Ockendon. And you will continue to dance to my tune. If you utter one word about Georgie or what happened to Rainham—just one word—I will call in that loan. I will take your precious town house and raze it to the ground and have you thrown into debtors’ prison.’ The Earl of Ockendon’s face was ashen as Hal strode to the door and opened it. To everyone’s surprise Stevens was filling the doorway. ‘Throw this odious man out, Stevens, would you? He won’t be coming back. And be a good chap and bring back Lord Rainham’s testimony.’
One meaty hand grabbed the Earl by the collar and within a split second he was gone, the door clicked quietly shut behind him. Hal simply sauntered back into the centre of the room like the cat who had all the cream.
‘Who’s up for another hand of whist?’
* * *
The room had erupted and while they celebrated, Lizzie tried not to focus on the sad reality. This scandal might be over but, at best it was a respite. Unless she left society, Georgie and her dear papa were still at risk and that meant Lizzie still had to face the heartbreak of doing what she knew was necessary. She couldn’t stay. Another stolen day, or week or month was merely delaying the inevitable—and the delay would make leaving so much harder in the long run. She had already tumbled head-first into love with Hal. With every day that love only grew deeper. If her heart was going to withstand the pain, she had to cut all ties quickly.
This was it.
Her last night with Hal.
For ever.
Their eyes met across the noisy room and she saw the pride in his at his achievement on her behalf. When she smiled back at him, his stare became even more intense and that pride turned to joy. All he ever seemed to want was to make her happy so Lizzie did not want his last memories of her to be anything other than that.
For his sake, one last time, she would sparkle. So she celebrated with everyone, and when Stevens returned with that damning document she threw it on the fire laughing, toasting Hal’s victory with the champagne he had opened, enjoying the giddy relief of freedom until the first guests began to arrive and they all had to behave as if the end of the world had not just been narrowly averted.
* * *
As expected, the ball was an unmitigated success. Everyone was having a wonderful time—except Lizzie. The closer she got to midnight, the more the confused and tangled warring emotions drained her. Relief. Joy. Disbelief. Sadness. Love.
Pain.
Pain so intense she had to fight the hovering tears constantly. Every time she glanced in Hal’s direction and he gave her a secret, intimate smile back, it ripped through her and she wished with all her heart things could be different.
But how could they be? Lizzie had responsibilities. She did not have the luxury of concerning herself solely with her own selfish happiness. Georgie could not be hidden away in Mayfair for ever and the alternatives were impossible. She would never allow him to be banished to the country and could see no way he could suddenly magically appear in Mayfair without his existence ruining her father. How did one explain away a four-soon-to-be-five-year-old child? Or a ten-year-old one. A sixteen-year-old one. With each passing year, fresh lies would have to be heaped on more lies and her innocent boy would have to suffer.
‘Waltz with me.’
Hal’s warm breath caressed her neck and the tears threatened to spill. Soon the guests would leave and so would she. ‘Of course.’ Another memory to store away in a box now full of them. One last dance to go with the last kiss they would share in the morning before she drove away. The last time she saw him as her carriage would pull out of sight.
Hal led her on to the floor and tugged her into his arms. Typically, too close for propriety, but not so close to scandalise. Lizzie was past caring about the latter and stepped closer still, allowing herself the pleasure of feeling their bodies touching.
One last time.
‘Where are you taking me?’ He had twirled her across the floor and was headed towards the door.
‘The hall.’
‘The hall. And that, I suppose, is explanation enough?’
He smiled and slowly brought the dance to a stop. ‘Come. I wanted to show you something.’
They seemed to stroll for an age. His town house was impressive, even by Mayfair standards, the entrance hall vast and filled with milling couples who had gathered to escape the crowds and the heat of the ballroom. Hal led her past all of them and then through another door into a deserted, firelit parlour.
‘Are we having a tryst? Because if we are I have already seen what you are going to show me.’ Flirting covered the pain.
He simply smiled enigmatically and went to the sideboard. He slid open a drawer and pulled out a small box. ‘I put this here earlier. I want you to have it.’ He placed it in her hand and stood back, uncharacteristically nervous, and her heart began to thud. Lizzie stared at it and hoped it was not what she thought it was. At her hesitation, he clasped his hands behind his back. Frowned. ‘Open it.’
With shaking fingers, she did as he asked and stared mournfully at the glittering diamond nestled within. She had wanted tonight to be perfect for him and now she was about to ruin it.
‘Marry me, Lizzie. Not because you are frightened or because you are grateful. Marry me because we love each other and we are meant to be together.’
‘Oh, Hal...’ She took one last look at the beautiful ring before slowly closing the box. He loved her? A part of her died as it clicked shut. ‘I can’t... You know I can’t.’
He raked one hand through his dark hair in agitation and began to pace. ‘For God’s sake, woman! I love you!’
In her dreams, when he had said this it had been whispered, but his angry, raised voice somehow made it more heartfelt. More tragic.
‘I love you, too, but my situation is untenable.’
His hands came up to grip her upper arms; despair distort
ed his handsome face. ‘Surely you are not intent on pursuing this Yorkshire nonsense? Ockendon and Rainham cannot hurt you now. You are safe. Your father is safe. Georgie is safe...’
‘Georgie is still a secret, Hal.’ Lizzie broke the contact and put some distance between them. His touch would only make her falter away from what was right. ‘He cannot remain a secret for ever. He deserves to live out in the open like every other child, running through fields, playing with others. If this month has taught me anything, it has shown me how he has blossomed amongst children his own age.’
‘Once you marry me, he doesn’t have to be a secret. I adore the boy. Are you frightened I will want him hidden away like Ockendon threatened? You can tell the world, for all I care!’
‘Because that would ruin his life, wouldn’t it? Everyone would realise he was Rainham’s son. Rainham’s son! I wouldn’t wish that stigma on my worst enemy. Wherever he went, whatever he did, the gossip would follow him. The whispering behind fans about his fallen mother at public engagements...the pointed lack of invitations to other children’s parties, the lack of acceptance in a society which puts a woman’s virtue above all else! The fact that you deigned to marry a fallen woman and take on the burden of him!’
‘Oh, for pity’s sake—as if I care about that? I’ve been a scandal all my adult life—one more will hardly make a difference!’
‘What about the shame it would bring to my father and the damage it would do to the reputation he has worked forty years to achieve? He was complicit in hiding my baby. Good grief, Hal... What if the truth about his hand in Rainham’s disappearance is questioned?’
‘I’m paying for passage and a new life for that man in the Americas. You do not need to worry about him...’
Lizzie held up her hand and slowly backed towards the door. She had to fight the overwhelming urge to believe he could be right. ‘We escaped the scandal this time. Next time we might not be so lucky. You know what the gossips are like. My way is better... I am better on my own. In the north I can invent a new past for my son, which will also protect my papa, something more noble than being the dirty secret of a fallen woman and the bankrupt, dissolute Marquess of Rainham’s by-blow!’
Chapter Twenty-Two
Hal wanted to grab her and shake some sense into her. The stubborn wench! Always so pessimistic and blasted noble. She denied him the pleasure by darting out of the door. No doubt she hoped he wouldn’t cause a scene. Too bad. He was going to cause one.
He stalked to the door and found little comfort in noisily slamming it open. Barging past several people, he caught her by the elbow and pulled her to face him. ‘We are not done!’
‘Yes, we are!’
He would not be swayed by the tears pooling on her long lashes or the limpid, brave misery he saw shimmering in those fine cornflower eyes. ‘You are not better on your own. Neither am I. Any fool with half a brain can see we are better together. You and I were meant to be together. You love me! You said so.’ A crowd was beginning to gather. Hal didn’t care. ‘And I love you. Are you going to allow a silly scandal to keep us apart?’
‘Weeeeeeee!’
Another sound from above.
High-pitched.
Children, nightgowns billowing. Sliding down the banister at speed towards them.
Prudence. Grace.
Georgie.
The high colour drained out of Lizzie’s face as her son beamed at her proudly. She started towards him, but Hal raced to beat her. He bent and grabbed the little boy around the waist and hoisted him into the air. ‘You rapscallion. You’re supposed to be in bed.’
Connie had already claimed her girls and was blinking back at him with alarm. ‘I can take him, Hal.’
‘Nonsense. You know full well he won’t sleep unless his papa tucks him in.’
It felt like the right thing to say. Especially as the crowded hall was now as silent as the grave and all eyes were on them. Georgie was staring back at him with wonder.
‘We have the same dark hair.’
Hal ruffled it. ‘Of course we do. And you have my handsome face, too.’
There were gasps. Murmurs. Lizzie was stood like a wide-eyed statue, the only evidence she was not made of stone the rapid rise and fall of her bosom.
‘You have a son?’ A rotund matron peered at him through her lorgnette.
As Hal was making this up as he went along, he nodded. ‘Scandalous, I know, but hardly a surprise when I am famously scandalous. In my defence, I didn’t know about him, else I would have married his poor mother—but, alas...childbirth...’ He tried to look winsome, hoping that the adults would understand because he sincerely doubted he could maintain his charade if Georgie got wind of anything involving the words death and his mama in the same sentence. The boy adored his mother.
‘The poor thing!’ Another matron. ‘But you took him in?’
‘I might be a scandal, madam, but I am a noble one. Georgie is my son and I adore him.’
* * *
Remarkably, the women in the room were charmed. She could see it as one by one their faces softened. The men mostly appeared startled—but it was different for men. Many of those in this room probably had by-blows of their own and all of them hidden or ignored. Dirty secrets. Lizzie watched Hal ruffle her son’s hair again. ‘Why were you sliding down the bannisters, young man?’
‘I saw you and Mama arguing. We thought it might make you both smile.’
Hal placed his finger over Georgie’s lips. ‘It’s not official yet, young man. She hasn’t said yes. She has this ridiculous notion that marrying me will ruin her father’s reputation—but my secret is out now, so I suppose it hardly matters.’ His eyes locked with hers. ‘My offer still stands. I know I’m unworthy and I know I’m a scandal, but Georgie needs a mother. One who will love him as much as I do and who will treat him as her own. And I need you. I love you, Sullen Lizzie. Will you marry us?’
Two pairs of male eyes stared back at her hopefully. One pair brown, the other the most seductive green.
‘If it helps, I have given him my consent. Despite his past, I am confident he has matured into a fine young man.’ Her papa’s eyes were watery, no doubt from a stray speck of dust in the pristine hall. Another pair of hopeful eyes.
‘And I wished for it for Christmas.’
Georgie’s wondrous expression undid her. She had no words. Speech of any sort was impossible, so she walked towards Hal and placed a lingering kiss on his lips. Who was she to argue against the wishes of all the men she loved.
‘Is that a yes?’
She nodded and his mouth crushed hers. A few people clapped. Many were smiling. Even more were already gossiping and that was fine, too. With everything else Hal had accomplished in the last few weeks, there was no point in worrying about her talkative son giving the game away one day. Between them they would work it out. What was a little scandal in the grand scheme of things? Hal was a glorious scandal. Besides, everybody knew rakes made the very best husbands and this one was going to be a wonderful father as well—to all their children.
Hal lowered Georgie to the floor, whispered something into her son’s ear that had him clamping his lips shut and kissed her again properly. When he stepped back he grinned, then plucked the single, shrivelled berry from his sprig of mistletoe and tossed it at his brother-in-law. Aaron caught it with one hand.
‘Seeing as it is a night for the truth, I think it’s fair to tell you I originally sought you out and wooed you because of a bet.’
‘A bet?’
‘Yes—the Mistletoe Wager.’
‘Aaron Wincanton!’ His sister’s face was like thunder. ‘After the Serpentine you promised...’
‘It’s my fault, Connie.’ Hal did not appear the least bit sorry. ‘I bet Aaron I could steal five kisses from Lizzie before Twelfth Night was d
one. I am delighted to say that I won.’
‘No. You didn’t.’ Ignoring his wife’s glare, Aaron pulled out his pocket watch and pointed at the dial. ‘It’s past midnight. Twelfth Night is over. As per the terms of our original arrangement, that last kiss doesn’t count.’
Hal shrugged and winked at Lizzie. They both knew he had stolen more than five kisses before Christmas Day. Since then there had been hundreds and all of them splendid. And he clearly did not know that Lizzie and Hal had made their own arrangement as well. Knowing how competitive the two men were, that news was unlikely to go down well. She was going to enjoy being part of this family.
‘I suppose I’ve lost then... Although, ironically, I also won. Although not quite what I was expecting. But a wager is a wager.’ He kissed her again. Lingered. Then picked up her little boy. After a quick ruffle of his matching dark hair, Hal twisted Georgie upside down and then sensibly carried her giggling child away from the sea of gawping people, as if neither had a care in the world and being scandalous was not scandalous at all.
‘Come on, Georgie. Come and help your scandalous but noble Papa in the stables.’
* * * * *
If you enjoyed this book, you won’t want to miss these other wonderful stories from Virginia Heath
HER ENEMY AT THE ALTAR
THE DISCERNING GENTLEMAN’S GUIDE
MISS BRADSHAW’S BOUGHT BETROTHAL
A WARRINER TO PROTECT HER
A WARRINER TO RESCUE HER
Keep reading for an excerpt from SCANDAL AND MISS MARKHAM by Janice Preston.
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His Mistletoe Wager Page 23
