by Mary Brendan - Society Scandals 01 - The Rake's Ruined Lady
Maggie licked her lips. She’d heard rumours that Sir Toby was a profligate on his own account but a tight-fist where others were concerned. She had no real desire for him to take up with Stella for, baronet or no, she feared he’d turn her daughter into a skivvy to get his money’s worth out of her. But so far Hugh Kendrick had ignored Stella. Maggie was praying she could change that by enabling him to spite his older brother by snatching her daughter away from Toby.
‘Come, woman...what is it?’ Toby demanded testily. ‘I’ve not all afternoon to tarry with such as you.’
‘Your brother has been showing an undue interest in my sweet Stella,’ Maggie rattled off. ‘I thought you should know of his pursuit.’
Toby shouted a laugh. ‘What do you expect me to do about it? The chit plays up to every man she meets.’
Maggie resented his scoffing criticism. What he’d said might be true, but she didn’t want her nose rubbed in it.
‘She’s a vivacious beauty, I’ll give you that,’ Maggie said, struggling for levity. ‘But she has her...preferences in gentlemen, and appreciates a fellow’s breeding. Now that rogue Sir Colin has done the dirty and left my dear girl to her fate she is keen to meet a fellow of similar status...such as your good self.’
‘Got cold feet, has he?’ Toby purred. It was news to him that the engagement was off, and suddenly the carrot the woman was dangling was looking exceedingly tasty. He guessed that for all the girl’s sauce she was still intact, and taking maidenheads was a sport Toby enjoyed above all else. ‘If you think I’ll wed the chit now she’s been cast off—’
‘Mayhap you will, sir, given time,’ Maggie hastily interrupted. ‘But that brother of yours might come up to scratch for my Stella first. Mr Kendrick is smitten, and will naturally want to have children for that fortune of his...’
‘He might get her increasing but he won’t marry her,’ Toby chortled. ‘He’s produced a boy already and left it abroad.’
Toby suddenly realised how very stupid and indiscreet he’d been. His lust for Stella had overridden his sense and he’d risked losing his valuable hold over Hugh. If his brother found out he’d broadcast his secret he’d cut off his money...maybe knock him senseless into the bargain. He groaned inwardly on noticing the gleam in Maggie Monk’s eyes as she digested this confidential information.
‘A bastard, has he?’ Maggie grunted a coarse laugh, turning away satisfied. She’d got far more than she’d bargained for and might no longer need to manipulate Toby after all. She left him gawping after her and hurried away, muttering gleefully, ‘Well, well...I wonder if the spinster knows about that...’
* * *
Bea could not risk being spotted in a clandestine tryst with Hugh. She had reasoned that a rendezvous in the open, as though they had bumped into one another by chance, would be the only option if she were to avoid heaping more embarrassment on her family.
Following her talk with her father earlier, Bea had acted before her courage fled, despatching a note to request that Hugh meet her at Oxford Street in the environs of Meredew’s haberdashery. Far too impetuous, her father had called her, just a few hours ago, and indeed she was, she realised, frowning at her pale reflection in a shop window. She feigned an interest in a feathered hat behind the glass, not wanting to appear to be aimlessly dawdling.
Glancing at the clock inside the premises, Bea noticed that the appointed hour was nearly upon her. She took a deep calming breath as her heartbeat accelerated, sending blood to pound deafeningly in her ears. Of course her note might have gone unheeded: Hugh might either be out of town or otherwise engaged and unable to respond to her summons.
Unsure whether that possibility gave greater relief than disappointment, she reminded herself that she didn’t want it all to be a squandered effort.
The street scene behind her was reflected in the pane and she began scouring the crowds. She longed to see Hugh approaching, yet confusingly also dreaded a first sight of his powerful presence. What would she say? What would he say? Would he laugh in that infuriating way of his that mingled lust and mockery? She feared he might unwittingly shrivel her determination to bare her soul and admit that she wanted him in the same way he desired her. If he were unable to say he loved her but promised instead his affection and respect it would surely be enough...
‘Bea!’
A familiar voice startled Bea from her tortured thoughts. At any other time she would have been delighted to see Fiona Chapman flying towards her on Oxford Street, but a rather strained smile was all she could manage as her friend closed the gap between them.
‘Is Elise out shopping with you today?’ Fiona came to a gasping halt by Bea’s side.
Bea shook her head. ‘Are you on your own too?’
‘I am now...’ Fiona answered flatly. ‘I was with Verity and her mother-in-law. Mrs Clemence is driving my poor sister mad, going on about arrangements for a christening before the babe is yet born.’ Fiona pulled a face. ‘I’ve escaped with the excuse that I must go home because of a headache. Now I’ve run into you I won’t have a completely spoiled afternoon.’ With a cheeky grin, Fiona linked arms with Bea, urging her to stroll on. ‘I’ll come window-shopping with you; you deserve to be cheered up after that hateful episode at the Whitleys’.’
Bea’s faint smile disappeared at that reminder.
‘You must not worry that people blame you!’ Fiona reassured her. ‘Everybody is saying what a weasel Toby Kendrick is to have manipulated you in the way he did...’
Suddenly she began waving frantically.
‘Now, over there is a Kendrick I do like—very much!’
The driver of a sleek curricle appeared unaware of Fiona’s enthusiastic welcome as he steered towards the kerb.
‘What a lucky coincidence to run into Hugh,’ Fiona announced, glancing at Bea. Having taken a closer look at her friend’s rosy complexion, she murmured conspiratorially, ‘Ah... I see...’ Fiona’s lips curved. ‘Not such a coincidence after all, is it?’ She tugged on Bea’s arm. ‘I’ve always thought the pair of you were a perfect match. This is no time to turn shy. Let’s go over and say hello now he’s arrived.’ She chuckled. ‘He’s looking for you already and seems rather stern; perhaps he thinks you’ve stood him up.’
Bea watched as Hugh vaulted from his seat and immediately frowned at the vacant spot by Meredew’s shop window. He did seem severe, she realised with a sense of womanly satisfaction, that she hadn’t been where he expected her to be, meekly awaiting his arrival.
‘Well...it’s a lovely day for a drive,’ Fiona piped up, causing Hugh to turn around. ‘Are you going to be kind and offer to take us for a spin around the park, Hugh?’ When he seemed more interested in gazing at Beatrice than answering, Fiona prodded his arm. ‘Oh, say you will. I can act as chaperon.’
Hugh’s narrowed gaze slid from Bea’s beautifully bashful expression to settle on Fiona. ‘You are extremely forward, not to mention bossy at times, Miss Chapman.’
‘Yes, I know, but there’s no point in waiting for you two to dither over how to escape prying eyes so you might talk privately.’
Fiona’s warning was called for; she moved a gloved hand, acknowledging Lady Groves and her friend, who had seen them.
‘We must all go off together for propriety’s sake,’ she whispered. ‘Then you may lose me along the way.’
‘I imagine you’re prepared to take a drive with me, Miss Dewey, as you’ve brought suitable company?’
Hugh’s smooth confidence heightened Bea’s blush.
‘Of course she is, or she wouldn’t be here at all, would she?’ Fiona declared, thrusting a hand at Hugh so he could help her aboard his curricle.
With a despairing look and a tiny head-shake Bea hoped to convey that she’d not sought her friend’s moral support because she was afraid to be alone with him. Hugh’s expression remained darkly quizzical and, conscious of Lady Groves bearing down on them, Bea accepted Hugh’s assistance in alighting.
‘Thank you,’ she murm
ured, settling back next to Fiona and withdrawing her hand from long fingers that seemed reluctant to release her.
Bea slid a glance at her companions, wondering why she’d ever felt jealous of Fiona’s relationship with Hugh. The way they sniped so good-naturedly made them more suited to being brother and sister than lovers. But there were other faceless women who stirred that new and unpleasant emotion in her. Ever since Colin had taunted her about Hugh’s mistresses Bea had felt curious: were they blonde or brunette, younger or older than she was? His Indian lover...lovers—how many were there?—would be dusky-limbed with jet-black hair. Of course all her rivals were bound to be exceptionally pretty...
The horses were set to a brisk trot and Bea tipped back her head, relaxing a little beneath the cooling air on her flushed face. The respite was short lived. Hugh suddenly captured her eyes with a stare of such intensity that she was jolted back to the night he’d taken her home in his coach. The memory of what they’d done in the dark, while the vehicle swayed through the deserted streets, grazing together their bodies, sent fiery heat rippling through her. The piquant excitement she’d experienced had been unforgettable, as had the sensation of his artful hands tormenting her bare flesh.
Involuntarily Bea’s eyes travelled to his dark fingers, tangled in leather as they capably mastered the sinuous greys to a pace he liked.
‘Goodness! I have a migraine.’ Fiona put the back of her hand to her head in a theatrical pose, drawing glances from both her companions.
‘I’ll take you home,’ Hugh said easily, and turned right at the next crossroads.
Beatrice was sure Fiona gave her a wink...or perhaps a genuine headache was making her squint...
‘I should return home too.’ The words tumbled out of Bea.
Colin Burnett’s criticism of her had suddenly refused to cease thudding at the forefront of her mind. A gentleman’s daughter should indeed, at her age, act with some decency and decorum. What was she thinking of, running after a notorious womaniser to tell him she’d chosen to lose the wager they’d made and become one of his mistresses? Being in thrall to unrequited love was no excuse for acting like a dullard or a doxy...
Fiona’s elbow dug Bea’s side and her friend gave her a fiercely encouraging look. A moment later Hugh handed Fiona down from the carriage and she set off towards her front door with a cheery wave.
In an easy leap Hugh was again aboard, taking the reins. In quick succession Beatrice darted several anxious glances at his shady concave cheek, hoping he’d sense she wanted him to talk to her. Any chitchat would do, she thought wistfully. But he remained uncommunicative as he wove in and out of traffic, then gave the horses their head on a clear stretch of road.
‘Are you feeling pleased with yourself?’ Bea burst out, unable to stand the silence any longer.
‘Should I be?’ There was no hint of either lust or mockery roughening his tone.
‘You’ve won our wager, as you said you would.’ A tremor had crept into her voice.
‘Forget about that stupid game.’
Hugh’s words were so quiet that Bea had to strain to hear them. ‘It was a game to you?’ she demanded in a suffocated voice.
He ejected a low expletive that was more unsettling to Bea than hearing him acknowledge his victory. But he said no more and set the greys to a faster pace.
‘Will you take me home, please?’ Bea’s hand flew to her bonnet as the breeze lifted it from her shimmering fair hair to droop at her nape.
‘Eventually.’
It was difficult for Beatrice to discern his mood from his abrupt conversation. ‘What does that mean?’ She strove for composure while removing the bonnet and laying it on her lap.
‘It means I’m not yet ready to do so.’
Hugh turned in through the park gates and within a few moments had brought the curricle to a halt beneath a canopy of undulating tree branches. He rested back into the seat, easing a muscular leg out in front of him.
Bea again forced her eyes to meet his, moistening her mouth. She saw he was watching from under long black lashes as her tongue trailed to and fro, so sank small teeth on her lower lip to still its quiver.
‘I sent that note to you on the spur of the moment,’ she blurted.
‘Do you regret doing so?’
‘I’m not sure,’ she answered honestly. ‘I’ve been told time and again that I am far too impetuous, and I admit it’s true.’
‘It sounds as though your sister has been dispensing pearls of wisdom.’
‘It wasn’t Elise...although she always does try to set me straight on such things.’
‘I recall she tried to talk sense into you years ago, when we first met. She told you not to waste your time on me, didn’t she?’
‘Indeed she did...’ Bea’s mouth slanted wryly. ‘And after all this time it has still not sunk in.’
Hugh barked a short laugh, frowning into the distance. ‘I’ll admit I’m glad of that, sweetheart, even if you are not.’
‘My papa called me impetuous today.’ Beatrice avoided his eyes.
‘And did he warn you to stay away from me too?’ Hugh asked quietly.
Bea noticed his thick dark brows drawing together in a wordless demand for some details. But she wasn’t prepared to be distracted into telling him about Colin Burnett’s visit. There were far more pressing matters to deal with.
‘Any number of people, concerned for my reputation, might advise me to avoid a notorious rake—as well you know.’
‘Notorious rakes can reform,’ Hugh pointed out with dulcet mockery. ‘Your sister could vouch for that...’
‘Alex told Elise that he grew up when he fell in love with her,’ Bea remarked, sounding wistfully reflective.
‘Are you hinting I’m immature?’ Vague amusement modulated his voice to a velvety huskiness.
‘If the cap fits...’ Bea started sourly, before biting back the rest of the phrase. But there was never likely to be a better moment to condemn his philandering. And he had asked for it! ‘Actually...I do think that in certain ways your behaviour is immature,’ she said.
‘In what ways?’
‘I think you can guess at them.’ Hungry as Bea was to know more about his other women, she backed away from letting him glimpse her jealousy.
‘If my memory serves...you’ve called me disgusting and a degenerate in the past, and now you’ve added being immature to the list of my faults... Yet still you wanted to meet me today. Why was that?’
‘I had little choice but to contact you,’ Bea retorted. ‘If I’ve been drawn into a feud between you and your brother and suffered for it then I think you owe me an apology and your assistance.’
‘I gave you assistance when I made plain my opinion of my brother, yet still you trusted him, gambled with him and accepted his loan.’
Bea felt her cheeks burn. The comment had been idly made, yet she recognised the reprimand and the truth in it.
‘Why did you do that, Beatrice? To annoy me?’
‘Perhaps.’ Her mouth slanted mutinously
‘And your reason for wanting to annoy me...?’
‘Do I need a reason other than that you constantly annoy me and insult me and...?’ She gestured impatiently.
‘Such an explanation makes you sound immature,’ he said, straight-faced.
‘Oh...this was a mistake!’ Beatrice fumed. ‘I might have known we would do nothing but bicker.’
‘We could go somewhere private and do something far more pleasant.’ Hugh’s suggestion was coupled with a sultry look before he turned his head, watching the paths becoming more populated as the fashionable hour approached, bringing strollers and carriages into Hyde Park.
‘As you seem to want to make light of it all,’ Beatrice hissed, blushing furiously, ‘I’m sorry I wasted my time and asked you to meet me. Would you take me home?’
‘I wasn’t making light of it, sweetheart,’ Hugh said quietly. ‘I was being very serious.’ His eyes swept over her, burning like coal emb
ers.
‘In that case,’ Bea whispered, ‘you have your answer on why I think you immature; simply reflect on what you have just said and your obsession with—’
‘Please carry on,’ Hugh invited with studied gravity.
‘Your obsession with womanising...’ Bea rattled off.
‘There’s only one woman I’m obsessed with, Beatrice.’ He paused. ‘If wanting you, thinking about you day and night, makes me immature, then I admit to the fault.’
Bea blinked, then her large luminous eyes began searching his face for signs of irony. But she could see none. He returned her stare quite openly and calmly.
‘When have I insulted you?’
‘What?’ Beatrice breathed.
‘You said a moment ago that I had insulted you.’
‘I think you know very well the answer to that.’
‘You think that offering you anything your heart desires is an insult?’
‘My heart desires more than I think you are able to give, sir,’ Bea murmured poignantly.
‘Ah...you are still pining for the good doctor, are you?’
‘No! I am not! And I have today impressed the fact on him too.’ Bea had spoken hotly, without due consideration for the interrogation that was sure to follow such a declaration.
‘Have you seen Burnett?’
There was no reason not to recount that Sir Colin had called on her and reissued his proposal but Bea twisted together her fingers in her lap in indecision. Such information would beg the question of why she had rebuffed a man she had recently been sure she loved and wanted as her husband.
‘He paid us a visit earlier.’
‘And his reason for that...?’
‘He came to tell me that he had been tricked into believing he must marry Miss Rawlings to get his inheritance. He said he’d broken their engagement and wanted to marry me instead.’
Bea watched the surprise in Hugh’s eyes being overtaken by another darker emotion.
‘As you’re here with me, I am guessing that you turned him down?’
‘I did...’
‘Why?’
‘My reason is none of your concern.’
