No, no, he trusted Colin. He had to. “Why not?” Hell, he’d barked the words.
She twisted her hands together. “Could we please wait several days?”
“Inadvisable. It would be best to get it over with.” He’d managed to soften his tone, but how tactless. “The sooner we marry, the better for your reputation.”
“But . . .” She blushed red as a radish. “It has to do with our wedding night.”
What the devil? Was she about to confess that she wasn’t the pure, untouched virgin everyone believed her to be? He clenched his fists. “What about it?”
“This is most embarrassing,” she muttered.
He tossed the Morning Post onto the table with a snap. “Say what’s on your mind, will you?”
“Oh, very well,” she said crossly. “I’m having my courses.”
Relief washed over him, followed by a massive wave of shame. How vile of him to imagine that she might be pregnant by some other man. He was as bad as Bottleford.
She scowled, even redder than before. “My monthly bleeding,” she explained gruffly. “It started today.”
Belatedly, he found his voice. “Yes, yes, I understand.”
She put her nose in the air. “I don’t know much about what to expect on my wedding night, but it seems to me that right now it would be frightfully untidy.”
“It would indeed, but we must nevertheless marry as soon as possible. We’ll postpone the consummation instead.”
He picked up his newspaper again.
Must he sound so relieved? Melinda’s heart twisted. Not only did he not love her and not want to marry her, but he didn’t particularly care about bedding her, either. By what she had heard, men were often eager to engage in carnal relations with any willing woman. Plenty of men had shown interest in her. How lowering if her husband proved to be one of those who didn’t.
Perhaps it had nothing to do with attraction. He’d become frightfully cold and unpleasant at the sight of her sitting with Colin. He’d given her a dreadful start, bellowing almost as Papa had done. If she didn’t know otherwise, she would assume he was jealous! Which was, of course, absurd.
But he had certainly been angry. She knew anger when she saw it. Oh, God! Maybe he thought she was like her mother. Infidelities were common in society, and Mama was extremely flirtatious and had not bothered to be discreet once she was a widow. Surely Lord Garrison didn’t believe Melinda would be unfaithful to him. That was unthinkable! She paled with horror at the very thought.
And then it hit her. He was the unfaithful one. He didn’t care when they consummated the marriage because he had a mistress. A host of emotions struck her all at once: horror, disgust, then anger, then…jealousy? No, since they didn’t love one another, that emotion would be as absurd in her as in him. She was just plain furious.
She would have the truth from him straightaway. “Do you have a mistress?”
He lowered the Morning Post a fraction and said in freezing tones, “I beg your pardon?”
It was a dreadfully unladylike question and she knew it, but she needed an answer. “Do you have a mistress?” If he did, she would not tolerate it. She would end the betrothal immediately.
He scowled at her. “I do not.”
She couldn’t let herself believe him that easily. She must make him swear to the truth of his denial. He would be angry at her insistence, but what did that matter when she was faced with the prospect of an unfaithful husband? Still, she should phrase it politely. She was trying to find the right words when voices sounded in the passage.
“Sir Edward is here,” Lord Garrison said.
Melinda dashed from the drawing room and flung herself into her brother’s arms. “Edward! I knew you would come. How is Adriana?”
Edward hugged her tightly. He was the best brother a woman could have. “Of course I came. Adriana is extremely worried about you, but otherwise well.” His arms loosened and his voice chilled. “Garrison.”
“Sir Edward,” Lord Garrison said with equal hauteur, ushering them both into the drawing room. He called for wine and closed the door.
“Don’t be uncivil to Lord Garrison, Edward,” she said, remembering her brother’s temper. “He has been everything that is kind.” Her voice trembled a bit on that last word. He’d been kind most of the time. If only she’d had time to make him explain why he didn’t care about bedding her. If only she weren’t so unsure.
“I don’t intend any incivility,” Edward said. “I merely want to know what is going on. I just came from your grandmother. She is so upset that she has taken to her bed.”
“What did she tell you?” Melinda said. “Whatever she said, it is a pack of lies.”
“Then I must count on you to tell me the truth,” Edward said equably, but Melinda wasn’t deceived. Edward would try to be fair, but he was Grandmama’s favorite, so he never saw how truly vicious she could be.
“The truth,” Lord Garrison said, “is that I asked Miss Starling to marry me and she accepted. I have sent for a special license and we plan to marry tomorrow. I have asked my lawyer to draw up some settlements which I trust will satisfy you of my good intentions.”
Edward blew out a long, long breath. “That’s all very well for you to say, Garrison, but there are so many stories going about just now. I was accosted by several of my friends on the way here. I need to know what really went on so I can decide for myself what to do next.”
Lord Garrison jutted his chin at Edward. “The decision is out of your hands, Starling. Your sister is of age.”
Ordinarily Melinda would appreciate being championed in such a way, would welcome taking responsibility for herself, but now . . . Oh, if only she knew for sure that Lord Garrison didn’t have a mistress!
“More’s the pity,” Edward snapped. So much for civility. “If she weren’t, I should forbid this match. I wanted a reputable man for my sister. Someone from a good family, not one best known for every form of vice.”
Lord Garrison shrugged. “Miss Starling is of course at liberty to change her mind.”
Melinda’s eyes flew to Lord Garrison’s hard face. Did he wish her to change her mind?
His expression softened a little. “But I hope she will not,” he said. “I cannot do anything about my lamentable ancestors and my own tarnished past, but I shall strive to make her happy, which is more than can be expected of anyone you might pay to take her after this fiasco—for which you may thank your grandmother.”
Edward narrowed his eyes, and hurriedly Melinda intervened. “If I tell you what happened, you must promise to keep it to yourself. You may tell Adriana, but no one else.” She paused. “Especially not Grandmama.”
“Melinda, I must inform Grandmama, if only out of courtesy.”
Melinda crossed her arms. “No, you mustn’t.”
“Lady Starling deserves no courtesy from either Miss Starling or me,” Lord Garrison added.
Thank you, Melinda thought gratefully, but Edward’s nostrils flared, so she had to intervene. “Do not lose your temper, Edward.”
Her brother narrowed his eyes. “Perhaps I have good reason. Do you want to marry a man who cares naught for what the world thinks of him? Who considers it proper to be rude to an elderly lady—and that is only the least of his sins?”
What sins? She wished she could ask Edward to tell her about his lordship’s scandalous past, but not only would that be extremely impolite, something in Lord Garrison’s stance prevented her. There was a stiffness about his shoulders, as if he braced himself for a blow. Did the accusations hurt him because they were false or because they were true?
All at once, he stalked to the door and opened it. That nosy Mrs. Timms hovered right outside. “Thank you,” he said, taking a tray with a decanter of wine and three goblets. “Send someone to fetch m
y lawyer, and then go do something more useful than eavesdropping.” He kicked the door shut.
“Amen,” Melinda whispered.
Even Edward’s lips twitched. Everybody was plagued with nosy family retainers one couldn’t dismiss. Lord Garrison took the tray to a sideboard and set it down.
“Melinda, even if he means well, he’s not what I wanted for you,” Edward murmured.
“He’s not what I wanted either,” Melinda whispered, “but I have no choice. And don’t say you will find someone else for me, because I have already made up my mind.” Or at least she thought she had. “If I am willing to make the best of it, so must you.”
Edward was unconvinced. “Tell me what happened,” he said as her betrothed approached them again.
Melinda’s eyes met Lord Garrison’s. “Go ahead,” he said, passing her a goblet of wine.
“Very well,” Melinda said. “It was all my fault.”
“Why am I not surprised?” muttered Edward.
Lord Garrison offered wine to Edward and then poured for himself. “I must take at least half the responsibility,” he said.
Did he mean because of the kiss? She didn’t want Edward to know about that. Not only was it none of his business, but it was—oh, so very private, at least to her. That magnificent kiss was her only true sign of hope.
But what if to Lord Garrison it meant nothing at all?
She gathered her composure. “Don’t interrupt. This is my story.” She hoped Lord Garrison understood the message behind her frown. “I went out the back door of Almack’s the night before last to cancel an elopement. No, not mine, Edward! A friend intended to elope, but she changed her mind.”
“Which friend?” demanded Edward.
“I shan’t tell you that. I only meant to pass the message to the man who was waiting for her at the end of the mews, but I got abducted by accident instead.”
“That part was my fault,” interposed Lord Garrison. “I was playing coachman to the prospective, and now broken-hearted, groom. Since I am persona non grata at polite assemblies and therefore acquainted with few marriageable young ladies, I mistook Miss Starling for the intended bride.”
“You were both at fault,” Edward pronounced.
“Perhaps Miss Starling and I are better matched than you think,” Lord Garrison drawled.
“Get on with it, Melinda,” growled Edward.
“I bumped my head in the coach and was knocked unconscious. Lord Garrison and his friend didn’t find out they had the wrong woman until we were out of London. Lord Garrison brought me home immediately, but Grandmama wouldn’t let me in.”
Edward huffed. “Come now, Melinda. That’s unbelievable, and well you know it.”
“It’s true! You know how much she hates me.”
“I know you and she don’t get along. I know she treated you with unwarranted harshness as a child, and I blame our father for allowing that. Nevertheless, she cares for you, Melinda. You know she does.”
“No,” Melinda said, “she loathes me. Ever since the day Papa sent me to her, she has threatened to wash her hands of me. The night before last, she finally did so.” She trembled a little at the memory, but it was easier to talk about it than before.
“Come now,” Edward said again. “She was awake and waiting for you. She merely didn’t get to the door in time.”
“Not true,” Lord Garrison said. “We both heard her forbid the servants to open the door.”
“You must have misheard,” Edward said.
“We didn’t!” Melinda cried.
Lord Garrison glared at her brother. “Listen to me, Starling. Your grandmother refused Melinda admittance. She left her alone and defenseless in the street.”
“Impossible.” Edward stiffened.
Lord Garrison stabbed a finger at Edward, the tip almost touching his chest. Melinda had seen enough childhood brawls to hold her breath now. Any second, they might resort to fisticuffs. “Alone and defenseless in a flimsy costume suited only for a masquerade.” His voice became a menacing hiss. “At the mercy of any lecherous bastard who happened along. We both know what would have happened to her.”
Edward said nothing, but for once he didn’t argue. He nodded curtly. Melinda had never seen him back away from confrontation before. She had a surprising urge to hug her future husband.
“Admittedly, I am not acquainted with your grandmother,” Lord Garrison said more mildly now, “but I have seldom heard such venom, and believe me, I have experienced plenty.”
“Perhaps Grandmama lost her temper.” Edward was still trying to excuse the old lady. “If so, she now regrets it.”
Melinda doubted that. “It’s too late for regrets.”
“It needn’t have been,” Edward said. “Why didn’t you go to a friend’s house instead of here?”
“After I had been out all night with a man? Who would have taken me?”
He sighed. “No one, I suppose.”
“If it were not for Lord Garrison, I don’t know what would have happened to me.” Actually, she had quite a clear idea, but one didn’t baldly discuss rape or worse with one’s brother. “I owe him everything, perhaps my very life.”
Edward sighed again. “I see I have no choice but to agree to this marriage. Melinda, get your things together while Lord Garrison and I discuss the settlements. I’ll take you home to Grandmama, and we’ll hold the wedding there as soon as may be.”
“No,” Miles said, “Melinda stays here.”
Chapter 5
Surprised, Melinda’s gaze met Miles’s. He held his breath.
“That’s what I was about to say,” she said. “I won’t go.”
Miles exhaled and set down his wine glass. He and Edward had disliked one another while at school and had rarely spoken since, but at the moment, Miles almost sympathized with him. History was repeating itself with a vengeance—frighteningly so for a devoted brother who considered Miles a heartless cur.
Too bad, for Miles knew exactly what Edward hoped to do: take Melinda away and convince her to change her mind. He’d got the impression that Melinda herself had been very close to doing so over the question of whether he had a mistress.
“What do you mean, you won’t come home with me?” Edward said. “You can’t stay here.”
“I refuse to go back,” Melinda said. Her vehemence sent a disconcerting curl of warmth through the ice that protected Miles’s heart. “I don’t want to see Grandmama ever again.”
“Impossible,” Edward said. “She’s family, and it would be improper for you to remain here.”
“He doesn’t trust me,” Miles said.
“He doesn’t have to,” Melinda countered. “I’m the one marrying you.”
Did that imply that she trusted him? Miles knew better, but she might be trying her best because the alternative was worse. He’d heard them whispering when he’d been occupied with the wine. He couldn’t allow Edward even two minutes to poison her mind against him. This was his one chance to right himself in the eyes of the world. He was paying dearly for it, but Melinda belonged to him now, and damned if he would let anyone take her away.
“We shall have the wedding here,” she said, “and I don’t want Grandmama to come.”
Edward threw up his hands. “For God’s sake, be reasonable! If we are to get over this hurdle with the minimum of scandal, we must act with propriety and make a stand as a united family. You will come home with me and your grandmother must attend the wedding.”
Melinda folded her arms. “I shan’t and she won’t.” All of a sudden, she crumpled. “Don’t make me go home, Edward. If you do, I swear I’ll run away and come right back here.”
Judging by the long-suffering expression on Edward’s face, Melinda would carry out this threat. Miles had to suppress a g
rin.
“And if you let her lock me in my bedchamber, I’ll never speak to you again,” Melinda said.
Miles knit his brows. “Would she?”
“She might try, but she wouldn’t succeed,” Edward said. “She’s a stubborn old lady, but I am still master in my own house.”
“She’ll make me miserable,” Melinda said. “She’ll say she should never have allowed me to have a London season. That she should never have got me vouchers for Almack’s. And if you aren’t listening, she’ll say I should never have been born!”
Melinda gasped. Why had she said that? Hurriedly, to cover for her ghastly mistake, she added, “And―and you’ll insist that I must be polite in return, and I don’t—I don’t think I can bear it any more, Edward.”
“You needn’t,” Lord Garrison said, his eyes kind. “You’ll stay here, and I’ll sleep at the coffee house on the next street, just as I did last night.”
Melinda let out a breath of relief. Lord Garrison hadn’t noticed her slip, because he had no notion of Melinda’s baseborn status. She felt like a fraud. No, she was a fraud; noblemen didn’t marry baseborn women. Not that there was anything wrong with her manners or deportment—she had been brought up to be the wife of a man of stature—but he would see her as a blemish on his noble line. What might he do, if he found out?
“But I agree that we must have your grandmother at the wedding,” Miles said.
“What?” Melinda cried. “Why?”
“Because as Sir Edward said, we must present a united front so as to discourage more gossip.”
“But she’ll ruin it.” Horror washed over her.
What if Grandmama told Miles that Melinda was a bastard? What if he then decided not to marry her? Perhaps, in spite of the effect on his reputation, he would prefer to have a way out. Should she offer it to him now?
To Kiss a Rake (Scandalous Kisses) Page 7
