by Mary Brendan - Society Scandals 01 - The Rake's Ruined Lady
‘No...indeed it is not!’ Bea exploded. She’d not expected a fulsome denial, but had anticipated more of a reaction than she’d just got. ‘Mrs Monk added that you’d all had a fine time this afternoon and hinted that you and Stella had flirted and kissed.’
‘Was anything else mentioned about my lecherous intentions towards that damned minx?’
‘What more might have been said?’ Bea stormed, dreading to hear the answer, yet desperate to have it too.
‘The meddlesome witch might have told you that I took them home immediately and declined an invitation to take refreshment; she might have told you that I refused the girl’s services as a paramour when they were offered to me...for the second time,’ Hugh clipped out.
‘What?’ Bea asked faintly. She’d imagined that Mrs Monk was after a husband for Stella.
‘So have you anything else to say to me?’ Hugh asked, taking her chin in strong fingers and tilting her face up to his so she couldn’t avoid his black-eyed stare.
Bea felt the words jumbling in her mind before clogging her throat. During the journey to his house she had rehearsed how she’d demand to know if he’d fathered a child with an Indian woman and then left them both behind when he’d returned to England. Now, when she needed them most, she realised her impetuous nature and quick tongue seemed to have deserted her.
‘Perhaps you might like to apologise and admit you were wrong to accuse me of having designs on that chit’s virtue.’
Bea bristled beneath his arrogant drawl. It spurred her on, firing her indignation. ‘I accused you of nothing. I merely asked questions. Even had I assumed you guilty it would have been an easy mistake to make.’ She stepped back from him, her blue gaze adopting a glacial hardness. ‘When trying to warn me about your womanising, Colin said you had a mistress at either end of town and wondered where you might position another.’ Bea tilted her head to a challenging angle, forcing her eyes to meet his squarely. ‘If only I had known then what I know now I might have been able to tell him. India is the answer, is it not?’
Chapter Twenty-One
She watched carefully, and, yes, there was an unmistakable flicker of cynical acceptance that something hidden had been unearthed.
‘Mrs Monk told you about that too?’
‘She did...’ Beatrice croaked, gripping at a chair-rail to steady herself. ‘And I’m sorry that she was mean enough to do so. I’m certain you’d not reveal anything so personal to her, and don’t know how she found out about your Indian mistress and the little boy.’
‘Toby probably told her; from what you’ve said it sounds as though they’ve been in touch,’ Hugh said tonelessly.
‘I’m sorry if your brother has betrayed you...it is a very personal matter,’ Bea repeated in a voice roughened by emotion. ‘It was none of that woman’s business...just as it is none of mine...’ She gulped in a shaky breath. ‘I must go now, but first will again apologise for intruding like this.’
She’d reached the door and half opened it before he spoke.
‘Don’t you want to know more about the affair?’
Bea twisted about, eyes blazing. ‘What possible interest would I have in your family abroad?’
‘I have no family abroad...’
‘You are a very callous man to say so,’ Bea whispered. ‘What else are the mother of your child and a son...even a bastard son...but members of your family?’
Bea’s fists clenched at her sides in rage and frustration. She had been wrong about him all along; despite his arrogance and philandering she had harboured a hope—a hope that had soared this afternoon—that he was an inherently decent man. He’d not denied the little boy’s birth, yet had easily dismissed him.
‘Have you finished?’
‘Utterly finished... I’ve no wish to say or hear more on the subject. Good evening...’ Bea had her fingers on the door, pulling it fully open, when his dark fist hit the panel overhead, slamming it again shut.
‘I don’t think you mean that, do you, Beatrice?’ he said quietly. ‘I think you’re keen for every detail about Rani and Shay.’
Bea spun about, her back pressed into the door. She gazed up at him with glittering eyes, hating him for understanding her turmoil and for making real people of the ghosts in her mind.
‘You’re wrong!’ she spat. ‘I’ve had enough proof that your lechery causes hurt to innocent people. You will never hurt me in that way.’ Tears trickled down her cheeks. ‘How can you abandon your own flesh and blood in a distant land?’
‘Shay isn’t my flesh and blood...’
‘What?’ Bea whispered. ‘Are you now going to lie—?’
‘It’s not a lie,’ Hugh interrupted harshly. ‘He’s not my flesh and blood and, much as I want the best for him, I’m content to let Rani care for his welfare.’
Hugh pressed thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose, as though to ease strain.
‘I want to tell you, Beatrice...let me tell you... And then, if you want nothing more to do with me, I’ll try and accept your wishes and stay away.’
His hoarse words held a note of authority, and Bea realised he’d force her to listen whether she chose to or not.
‘Sit down...please...’ Hugh abruptly strode away from her, thrusting hands that ached to touch her in his pockets. One was withdrawn to gesture at the chair she’d previously used.
Slowly Bea approached the seat, perching again on its very edge, as though she might flee if the details of his foreign affair were too unbearable.
‘Rani became my mistress shortly after I arrived in Hyderabad,’ Hugh started without preamble. ‘She’d had an arranged marriage when little more than a girl. Her husband was much older and they had no offspring. She craved a child to love...’
Bea’s slender fingers gripped the chair-arm as though she would use its support to rise.
‘Let me finish, Bea!’ Hugh ordered with a note of pleading. He quickly resumed. ‘There were many English families in the area connected to the East Indies trade. I became friendly with one fellow, Keith Wheeler, who had his wife and only daughter with him. They’d planned to return to England so the girl could make her come-out. Then they found out Louise was pregnant by a married Indian potentate.’
Hugh’s mouth hardened at the memory.
‘Once the seduction was done the fellow distanced himself, and there would have been a diplomatic incident and a scandal if he’d been pursued over the matter.’
Bea relaxed her tight grip on the chair, returned her fingers to her lap. She gazed at Hugh’s profile, her mind racing ahead. But she remained quiet, breathlessly waiting for him to continue.
‘Louise’s parents were understandably distraught and keen to keep the matter concealed. When Rani discovered that a baby was to be born in secret and then given away she wanted it. She pleaded with me to make the necessary arrangements. I refused, so behind my back she spoke to the expectant mother and the parents...offered to pay them for the child. The Wheelers wanted nothing other than that the whole affair be dealt with as discreetly as possible.’
Hugh paused, threw his head back to sightlessly stare at the ceiling.
‘The Wheelers begged me to put it right for them if I could. I resisted, and tried to dissuade Rani too, but her obsession with being a mother overrode all else and eventually I agreed to help them all obtain the longed-for outcome.’ He gestured briefly. ‘My liaison with Rani was in the open, and accepted by the locals as a practical arrangement. Rani’s elderly husband didn’t object to his wife sleeping with me. They were not peasants, but neither were they wealthy people, and the family welcomed my friendship and financial assistance.’
Hugh shifted position, lowering his moody features to the empty fire grate.
‘Louise concealed her weight gain; Rani padded out her clothes and begged me to claim the child as mine. She didn’t want to be vilified as a trollop, unable to name her baby’s father, and a fair-skinned sire would be required as the baby was sure to look of mixed race. As i
ndeed he does...’
A softening about Hugh’s mouth caused Beatrice a pang of joy rather than jealousy. Despite everything, the little boy held a place in his heart. ‘You love him, don’t you?’
‘I grew to adore the little chap...’
‘And you named him Shay?’ she asked, in a voice so quiet it was almost inaudible.
‘Rani chose the name. Shay means gift...and that’s how she saw the boy... Whereas I...’
‘Whereas you...?’ Bea prompted in a whisper.
‘Whereas I knew word of Shay’s existence would leak out, and I could see the problems and inconvenience that lay ahead in my becoming embroiled in such deceit.’
‘But you did it anyway,’ Bea said, her voice soft with wonder. She knew she believed what he’d said... Every single word was true—outlandishly dramatic tale though it was. A spontaneous sob of admiration and love for him welled in her chest. ‘You must have loved her very much to sacrifice what you believed to be right so she might have her dream of becoming a mother.’
‘No...’ He grimaced wryly. ‘I was fond of Rani, but we both knew I didn’t love her—and neither did she love me. It was an exchange of basic needs that suited us both at the time.’
‘It was good and selfless of you, nevertheless...’
‘In the end I did it for Louise. My sister was compromised when young and it nearly ruined her future. I could understand why Louise’s parents were fretting over what lay ahead for their daughter.’
‘How did Toby find out?’ Bea asked, puzzled.
‘He came to India, uninvited, to try and wangle himself an interest in my mining company. He got nothing from me but of course he’s used the knowledge of Shay’s birth to his advantage. My brother has hinted at spreading what he knows...but up to now he’s shrewdly kept quiet, fearing my revenge. I expect he’s already worried that he’ll not be able to extract another penny from me.’
‘He’s been blackmailing you?’ Bea sounded outraged.
‘In a subtle way... But it seems he’s now burned his bridges, and in a way I’m glad. The gossip will spread like wildfire; Mrs Monk will make sure of that now she knows I’ve no interest in her daughter.’
‘It will die down...’ Bea reassured him.
Hugh shrugged carelessness. ‘A few other people already know of Shay’s existence. Of course Alex has had the full story; he’s the only person, apart from you, to hear it from my lips. He said he’s never had reason to mention it to Elise.’ Hugh prowled to and fro in front of the chimneypiece. ‘Lord Mornington was in India at the same time as me, attending to his investments. I expect he’s told his close circle that I fathered a child abroad. I’ve noticed his sister looking at me oddly at times. But Lady Groves is obviously not a gossip or word would have already got round.’
Hugh gave another lazy shrug.
‘It no longer matters who knows, and thankfully Toby never discovered the truth behind the boy’s birth. Had he done so he’d have held the means to destroy many people’s happiness.’
‘What of Louise and her parents?’
‘They returned to England and Louise was quietly married in Kent to a nice young fellow... I was invited to the ceremony...’
‘A happy ending all round...’ Bea gave him a tiny smile.
‘Is it?’ Hugh plunged his hands in his pockets, his eyes darkening. ‘Why did you assume I was a deceitful villain before allowing me to explain?’
‘I told Mrs Monk she was lying about you from the start. I was sceptical about your interest in her daughter even when she said you’d take Stella just to ensure Toby couldn’t have her...’ Beatrice rattled off, wishing she had a more robust defence to present to Hugh.
She had recklessly flown here in a fury, believing the worst of him. She’d called him names and quizzed him over being a liar...but now that her jealousy and indignation were no longer colouring her reason her earlier opinion of him had changed drastically. In fact he had moments ago provided her with yet more cause to adore him, she realised. He might be self-indulgent where women and pleasure were concerned, but he was not weak or mean. His kindness towards Rani didn’t irk Beatrice; such consideration reassured her that, however nasty and corrupt his older brother might be, Hugh had escaped being infected with a similar nature. Hugh Kendrick was an honourable man, and she loved him.
Blinking back the heat in her eyes, she gazed at him, wanting him to say something, but he remained stubbornly quiet.
‘I’m conscious that you have great trust in me to have disclosed your secret... I swear I will never betray it.’ Still he said nothing, and Bea slowly turned away. ‘I must go now, and hope that nobody knows I’ve been here other than your servants.’
‘You took a great risk for a man you don’t trust.’
‘I do trust you...’ Beatrice keened, swinging back to gaze at him beseechingly.
Hugh suddenly cradled her face in his hand. ‘Do you, Beatrice?’ he demanded throatily. ‘Prove it to me, then...’
Chapter Twenty-Two
‘How can I? What do you want me to do?’ Beatrice whispered. She glimpsed the smoky desire burning at the backs of his eyes and a piquant thrill rippled through her. ‘I shouldn’t have doubted you, but Mrs Monk is adept at stirring the pot...’ She began a diffident mitigation.
‘If you’re curious about my past ask me about it and I’ll tell you everything you want to know.’ Hugh dipped his head to tantalise a corner of her lips with his own. ‘Or perhaps you’ll think me lying to cover up my sins...will you?’
‘No! I won’t! I trust you...’ Bea’s eyelids fell as the kiss continued.
‘Good. But I’m after more than just your trust, sweet, you know that. I always have been.’ His fingers smoothed over a warm satiny cheek, a thumb brushing lightly on her lower lip. ‘I want us to finish what we started in Hyde Park this afternoon, before we were interrupted by those infernal people.’
He held her back from him a little, tilting his head to watch her bashful expression.
‘Come...don’t be shy; we both know it didn’t begin today but years ago, and we’ve waited far too long to satisfy this need for one another. It’s time now to surrender, Beatrice.’
‘You want me to kiss you to say sorry?’ Beatrice murmured, glancing at him from under her curly dark lashes.
‘That would be a nice start...’ Hugh sounded huskily amused as he moved his mouth to a position fractionally above hers, daring her to take the initiative and close the space between their lips.
Raising herself onto tiptoe, Bea kissed him with innocent sensuality. A scent of tangy sandalwood soap enveloped her as their bodies merged and she slipped her arms onto his shoulders, entwining her fingers in his tousled hair.
‘You feel damp...’ she teased, trying to temper the sizzling atmosphere between them. ‘I’m sorry I interrupted your bathing...’
‘There’s time yet to finish that too before the night’s out,’ Hugh growled against her mouth. ‘Will you wash my back?’
Bea stumbled back a pace from him, her smile uncertain. ‘I hope you’re joking...’
Hugh tracked her evasive paces until her spine was touching the library table. Indolently he placed a hand either side of her, trapping her between his muscular arms. ‘No joke... I want you with me everywhere, Beatrice...even in my bath.’
Confused by an overwhelming mix of excitement and embarrassment, she clasped the solid forearm closest to her with two small hands. Sinew flexed beneath her palms as he resisted her attempt to move him. Bea’s eyes roved features that displayed an uncompromising raw carnality. Slowly she exhaled a pent-up breath. Why fight him? She yearned for his loving as ardently as he would bestow it. She couldn’t deny it. Neither could she deny that the idea of his sleek skin slipping beneath her wet palms as she soaped him was making her feel restless.
This afternoon she had been ready to take his terms and become his mistress. What matter if she yielded and agreed to go to his bed or his bath now? Hours ago it would have seemed a s
hocking notion: she’d always assumed Hugh would arrange for them to make love at a secret location so as not to cause outrage.
But the damage was already done: she’d shocked his servants, who no doubt imagined she was a harlot. Besides, Mrs Monk would be bent on revenge and would besmirch Bea for the sin of a single kiss. In Bea’s rueful estimation she might as well get hung for a sheep as a lamb and stay awhile with the man she loved.
It was time for her to surrender and prove her love and trust to Hugh. When word got out about her visit to Mr Kendrick’s Mayfair mansion she would be home in Hertfordshire. In time a new scandal would erupt to entertain the ton and gossip about her would fade.
Bea’s reflections were interrupted by the touch of gentle fingers at her throat, untying her bonnet strings. Hugh tossed the hat to the table, his eyes capturing her vivid blue gaze as his fingers threaded into her silken hair.
‘This afternoon when I came to meet you in Oxford Street I brought something with me to give to you.’
‘I know...and my papa was as grateful as I to have those IOUs,’ she said with trembling sincerity. ‘I own I thought he might be livid that a gentleman had paid my debts, but he claims you did the right thing, protecting your family’s honour and thwarting your odious brother’s spite. You are still my papa’s good friend.’
Hugh’s mouth tilted wryly. ‘And will he think me his friend after tonight?’
‘I doubt he will if he finds out what we’ve done,’ Bea admitted with a catch to her voice.
‘And what will he think of you if he finds out what we’ve done?’
Bea averted her face as her eyes prickled, but she attempted a steady reply. ‘He will be very upset, of course, but I think he will allow me to stay with him in Hertfordshire—although many would deem me unfit to again darken his doorstep.’
‘Are you prepared to risk so much for me, Beatrice?’ Hugh asked gently.
‘Yes...’ she murmured.
‘Why?’
She knew she should tell him now that she loved and wanted him, and no other man would do. She should say she’d far sooner have an uncertain future with him than settle for respectability and the prospect of an arid marriage of convenience when her aged papa died and was no longer her companion. But an obstinate pride remained, blocking the confession in her throat. He might not love her, or want to marry her, but the least she required of him was that he allowed her some dignity, offering up some affectionate words first.
