Ruined by a Rake

by Erin Knightley

  Nick tilted his head as if considering the charge, then shrugged. “Perhaps.”

  Malcolm stilled. “I should call you out. If it wasn’t political suicide, I would do just that.”

  Doubtful; Malcolm knew he could never win in a duel with Nick.

  The earl walked behind his desk and sat, inspecting Nick as if he were the foulest of creatures. “As of this moment, you are expelled from this family. I hereby banish you from this house and from any other property I own. If you try to step foot on even a square inch of my land, I will have you thrown in gaol. Furthermore, I forbid you to see your mother, or any other member of this family.”

  A boulder settled deep in Nick’s gut, making it hard to breath. He gritted his teeth, struggling to maintain a neutral expression. If this was the price of restoring Eleanor’s choices for her own life, than so be it.

  Malcolm leaned forward over his desk, resting his elbows on the polished wood and lacing his fingers in front of him. “And lastly,” he said, a hint of malevolent pleasure lifting one side of his lip in a sneer, “a letter will go out in tomorrow’s post addressed to my solicitor. By this time next week, your commission will have been sold.

  “Welcome to the life you should have had, Norton. I hope you choke on it.”

  ***

  Aunt Margaret paced from one side of the room to the other, her face drawn with worry as her fingers mangled a lace handkerchief. “I don’t understand, Eleanor. Why on earth would he have done such a thing? Ruining your chances like that,” she said, shaking her head. “He has always been a bit of a scoundrel, but I always felt he was a gentleman at heart.”

  Heedless of her fine silk gown, Eleanor sat in a heap on the settee, pressing a pillow to her middle. The myriad of emotions rushing through her all at once made it hard to think, let alone make sense of what had just happened. What should she do? What did this mean for her sister and her?

  Her heart ached bitterly. What on earth had Nicholas been thinking? She wouldn’t be surprised if Malcolm met him at dawn over this. Peering up to her aunt, she shook her head. “He was trying to save me.”

  If only she had told Nicolas the whole truth of the situation. Eleanor squeezed her eyes shut. He may have had some ridiculous notion of helping her, but what if Libby was the one forced to pay the price?

  Aunt Margaret stopped dead in her tracks. “Save you? From what?”

  “From having to marry Lord Henry.”

  She blinked, dumbfounded. “But you wanted to marry. You told me yourself you were finally interested.”

  It was Eleanor’s turn to be at a loss. “What? No, I didn’t want to marry. Uncle Robert was forcing me to. You know how I feel about marriage after Mama and Papa.”

  Aunt Margaret put a hand to her mouth. She looked beyond appalled. “Oh my dear! I had no idea. I thought at long last you had changed your mind. I thought you had finally seen the goodness marriage can hold.”

  She’d been on Eleanor’s side after all? Something inside of her eased, making things just a little less awful. “No—I mean, I’m sure that it can be, but I never wanted to risk it.”

  “Then why—?”

  “Because Uncle threatened that if I didn’t, he would summon Libby from school, forcing her to marry instead.” The words burned her throat like whisky.

  The fury in her aunt’s eyes was a balm to her soul. “Over my dead body.”

  Eleanor gasped—it was the most passion she’d seen in her aunt since Mama died. She seemed fully alive again, like the formidable woman she had once been.

  “He ruined your mother’s life by forcing her to marry your father. She was determined that you and your sister would not suffer the same fate. Before your debut, she made Robert swear that you and Libby would be free to choose your own husbands—if you even wanted one at all.”

  Eleanor swallowed against the emotion that clogged her throat. Mama had done that for her?

  A small, unexpected smile deepened the lines bracketing her aunt’s thin lips. “She threatened if he didn’t, she would marry a Whig and take up the plight of the working class, handing out pamphlets on the street if need be. She would have done it too, I swear to it. Robert realized it as well; I was right there when he finally gave his word.”

  He had agreed? He had given Eleanor’s mother his word, only to break it the moment it suited him? Anger flared to life deep within her, heating her blood and searing her resolve. She thought of Nick, standing up for her in his own convoluted way, now being subjected to her uncle’s fury.

  This wasn’t his fight—it was hers. It was past time Uncle Robert was subjected to her wrath, not the other way around. Hadn’t Nick just shown her how strong she could be? “I have to go,” she said suddenly, unable to sit idle for even one more moment.

  “Wait.”

  She stopped at the authoritative tone in the older woman’s voice. “Yes?”

  Tilting her head, Aunt Margaret leveled a thoughtful gaze on Eleanor. “I understand now why rescue was necessary in the case of Lord Henry. But I still don’t know why Nick decided he was the one to do it. Are not the two of you adversaries?”

  And there was the crux of the matter.

  An unfamiliar longing wrapped around her heart as she thought of him and what exactly he was to her. What they were to each other. “Oh Aunt, I’ve been so stupid. All this time we bickered and argued, but yet all along . . .” she shook her head helplessly. “It’s been him. It’s always been him. The one who drives me mad, who makes me want to throttle him, but who always challenged me. Always looked to me as an equal.” She swallowed as a new truth assailed her with the force of an exploding firework. “I can’t bear the thought of being without him.”

  “So you didn’t mind his kiss?”

  Heat scorched her cheeks, but she looked her aunt straight in the eye. “I loved it. And I love him.”

  Aunt Margaret’s mouth dropped open in surprise, even as her eyes misted over. Nodding crisply, she rose to her feet. “I’m coming with you. And next time,” she said, tossing a shawl about her shoulders before linking arms with Eleanor, “do feel free to come to me when my brother makes an arse of himself.”

  ***

  Nick stood rigidly still, absorbing the ramifications of his own stepfather’s words. His commission. His livelihood—his very identity. These were to be the price for Eleanor’s freedom.

  So be it.

  Though dread filled him like rising flood waters, there was no regret. No remorse at all. She was worth any price, as far as he was concerned. He forced his lips into a grin as he addressed his hateful step-father. “Ah, the relief you must feel to finally wash your hands of me. See now? I did you a favor after all.”

  “Too bad such a thing didn’t happen a decade ago,” the earl retorted. “You have ten minutes to be gone from this house before I have you thrown out.”

  Nick nodded once in acknowledgement, then turned and strode for the door. As he reached for the knob, the door swung open, and Eleanor nearly bowled him over. He jumped back, regaining his balance even as he lost his breath. His heart soared at the sight of her. Her face was a mask of determination, her head held high and her eyes flashing like fire-lit bronze.

  His beautiful, glorious warrior—God how he loved her.

  Malcolm started to protest, but she sliced a hand through the air, silencing him. She marched straight past Nick to the desk, Aunt Margaret following behind her. “How dare you, sir. You made a promise to my mother, and she’s not even gone a year before you break it? What kind of man are you?”

  Malcolm’s face contorted, going as red as the scarlet curtains behind him. “How dare I? How dare you, bursting in here like some sort of lowborn, mannerless chit. Margaret, escort our niece to her room. I will deal with you both later.”

  Instead of jumping to his bidding, Aunt Margaret crossed her arms in a show of protest. “I do believe I’d like to hear what the girl has to say, dear brother. Eleanor?”

  Well done, Aunt
Margaret! Nick stared in shock at his normally impeccably-mannered aunt. And he wasn’t the only one. From behind his desk, Malcolm sputtered in outrage, unable to even come up with a proper response.

  “Thank you, Aunt,” Eleanor said primly before returning her full attention to her uncle. Her spine was ramrod straight, her chin lifted and her shoulders back. “Listen to me, and listen well. If you think today’s scene reflected badly upon you, you can’t even imagine what I will do if you so much as harm one hair on Nicolas’s head, or seek to injure his prospects.”

  She took a step closer to the desk, forcing Malcolm to look up to her. “I will happily bring shame to this entire family if it means making you pay for what you did to my mother, and what you tried to do to me and my sister.”

  Her gaze jerked to Nick. “What has he promised as punishment? Are you to duel?”

  “Er, no,” he replied, momentarily caught off guard. Absurdly, he had to bite back the grin that threatened to emerge. She was just so damn magnificent. Straightening his face, he said, “Merely permanent alienation from this family, and the revocation of the funds for my commission. Nothing I can’t handle,” he added, not wanting her to think it was too great a penalty for him to bear.

  “No, nothing you will handle,” she said, her eyes fairly glowing with passion. She’d never been so self-assured; it was all he could not to applaud her. Her hands to her hips, she turned back to Malcolm. “Nick attempted to rescue me from the fate you tried to manufacture, but this is my fight, not his.

  “So here are your choices, dear uncle. Either I go back to the party and make a scene you will not soon forget, or you go in there and announce that, much to your surprise, your niece and step-son have made a love match, and will be married in one month’s time. Oh, and my entire dowry will be transferred upon our marriage.”

  It took a moment for Nick to realize that the echoing gasp was his. “No, Eleanor, I won’t allow you to be trapped—”

  She whirled to face him, her eyes flashing and her color high. “You mean married to you?”

  Married to Eleanor. He clenched his teeth together, ruthlessly squelching the surge of hope her words evoked. Everything he had done tonight was to protect her from exactly that fate. “Yes,” he answered, unable to keep the desperation from his voice.

  She shook her head, looking up to him with soulful brown eyes. “What choice do I have? You have ruined me.”

  Chapter Eight

  Eleanor waited for the shock of the statement to sink in before stepping forward and taking Nick’s hands in her own. “Yes, you ruined me in the eyes of the ton, but that’s not what I mean. Nick, you have ruined me for any other man. You’ve ruined me for living the life I once enjoyed.”

  She met his gaze directly, wanting him to see the truth in her eyes, to know that she meant what she said. “You have shown true valor, you have treated me with respect, and you’ve shown that my wishes are as close to your heart as your own.

  “I never thought I could bear to be married, but now I know that I can’t bear not to be. I can’t fathom being without you. And I must know,” she said, her voice raw with the emotion that consumed her, “after that kiss, have I ruined you as well?”

  He looked down at her, his green eyes giving away nothing. “No,” he said, shaking his head decisively.

  “No?” Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest, taking the breath from her lungs. Had she lost her gamble? Had she been wrong about the kiss, and the connection she felt between them?

  “You ruined me with the first kiss,” he said, squeezing her fingers tightly in his. “Eleanor Josephine Abbington, I have loved you since the day we met. One look at those huge brown eyes and the challenge you presented, and I was lost.”

  He couldn’t be serious! He’d loved her all these years? She shook her head, unable to believe what he was saying. “But all the teasing, and insults, and pestering . . .”

  For the first time that evening, a smile came to his lips. “When a fatherless, friendless boy is set before the gorgeous older granddaughter of an earl, what hope does he have? None – other than to keep the girl well enough engaged that she can’t possibly ignore him, even if she wanted to.”

  She simply stared at him, unable to process the emotions welling up inside her like a cyclone. Happiness, incredulousness, joy, love, disbelief—it was impossible to untangle one from the other.

  The moment was broken when Uncle Robert came suddenly to his feet, knocking his chair back with a clatter. “Enough! If you think I am going to bow to your whims like some sort of coward—”

  “Not a coward,” Aunt Margaret broke in. “A wise man. One who knows when he’s been beat. One who will salvage the evening exactly as presented, so that his precious bill, and the support of those influential men out there, will not be compromised.”

  “I will no—”

  “You will.” The steel in her voice was unmistakable. “I may not have been here to help my sister, but by God I will help her daughters. And let me just say, the scene Eleanor promises will be nothing compared to the scandal you would see from me if you ever threaten any of my nieces or nephews again.”

  Eleanor’s heart nearly burst for the woman beside her. She slipped her hand into her aunt’s and squeezed.

  The fury on her uncle’s face would have scared her before, but not anymore. He had no sway over her, and he never again would. And, judging by the way his jaw worked as he ground his teeth, he knew it, too. Finally, he said, “I will make the announcement. I will sign over the dowry. But I will never, ever have the two of you step foot on my property again. In fact, I wish never to see your faces again.”

  Victory! Squeezing both her aunt’s and her betrothed’s hands hard, Eleanor nodded. “Agreed.”

  Marching straight past them, Malcolm stormed from the room without another word.

  Releasing her death grip on the others’ hands, the three of them joined in a spontaneous hug.

  “Have no fear,” Aunt Margaret said. “I hereby exempt my home from his restrictions. Now, I believe I’ll go find your mother, Nicolas.”

  Alone at last.

  Suddenly shy, Eleanor bit her lip and pivoted to face the man who had turned her whole life upside down in a matter of days.

  Smiling, he slipped his hands to her waist. “Now, my prickly sweet Ellie, I have a question for you. Will,” he kissed her forehead, “you,” then her nose, “marry,” he lingered over her lips, “me?”

  Laughter bubbled up within her, completely eradicating all the negative emotions that had brewed inside her for days. “I thought we already agreed.”

  His brows snapped together in mock affront. “I will not accept a proposal issued from you through my stepfather. Now, answer the question.”

  Her joy was so complete as to be all consuming. “If you are mad enough to marry me, my love, then I am likewise inclined.”

  He flashed a huge, genuine grin, all arrogance and mocking forever gone. He wrapped his arms fully around her waist and lifted her from her feet, spinning them both in a quick, dizzying circle before pressing his lips firmly upon hers, despite their laughter.

  She encircled his neck with her arms, holding him as closely to her as she possibly could. Her sweet, infuriating, irresistible Nicolas. When the kiss ended, she pulled back slightly and smiled down into his eyes. “You do realize that Uncle Robert is serious about disowning us.”

  “Thank God,” he replied, his green eyes sparkling. “My plan may have taken a decade or two, but it finally paid off.”

  “Oh, so I’m a means to an end, am I?” she teased.

  “Indeed . . . the means to a happy ending.”

  Epilogue

  Just what do you think you are doing?”

  Eleanor froze mid-lunge, her foil extended straight out in front of her. Blast, she was caught. The babbling brook that had so enchanted her when they purchased their small estate had apparently masked the sounds of her husband’s approach. Biting her lip, she straightene
d and turned to face the music. Nick stood behind her, partially shrouded in the heavy sheet of early morning fog, his arms crossed and his brow raised expectantly.

  She offered a bright smile, all innocence. “Morning constitutional?”

  He let his hands fall to his hips, giving her a very nice view of his chest through the partially-buttoned, generously-cut white shirt. “Uh huh.” He started forward, closing the distance between them with four easy strides. “You, madam, know full well you are not to be out here like this.”

  Even as he pinned her with his sternest expression, his lips still curled with a hint of that delicious smile of his. Her heart gave a little flip. Almost a year of marriage, and he still could take her breath away.

  He stopped an arm’s length away and held out his hand. “Your weapon?”

  Scrunching her nose, she tucked the foil into the crook of her elbow. “Don’t be silly, Nicolas. There’s nothing wrong with a little exercise. In fact, I think it’s good.”

  He flapped his hand open and closed in the universal sign for hand it over. “The doctor said no strenuous activities.”

  “Oh really,” she said, lifting an imperious brow. “If I recall correctly, you were quite enthusiastic about our strenuous activities last night.”

  Nick gave a bark of laughter and shook his head. “Oh, sure—use that against me.” Chuckling, he slipped a hand over her shoulder and tugged her in for a kiss, foil and all. She sighed happily, readily leaning into his embrace.

  When he pulled back, he placed a tender hand to her middle. The warmth of his bare fingers seeping through the fabric of her fencing shirt was nothing compared to the warmth of his gaze. “I know it’s very early yet, but put a poor soldier’s mind at ease, and do please stick to walking for your constitutionals.”

  She loved when he looked at her like that, as though she were the most precious treasure in the world. Because of that look, she had taken the biggest risk of her life—throwing years of caution to the wind in order to be with him—and it had paid off beyond her wildest dreams. A husband who loved, respected, and cherished her, a much longed for baby on the way, and all the family members who really mattered—Aunt Margaret, Libby, and William—by their sides, refusing to be intimidated by Uncle Robert’s wrath.