Restoring the Earl's Honour: Sweet and Clean Regency Romance (His Majesty's Hounds Book 17)

by Arietta Richmond

  Marion almost gasped at the audacity of it – it seemed unlikely… yet the Duchess was, if she had it aright, telling them that this had worked.

  “And this worked? The ton changed their attitude? But why? What made that so?”

  As he spoke, Lord Hungerwood’s face, for one moment, displayed a look of raw desperation, before he quickly calmed his expression.

  “It worked. After so many people of importance had greeted the Earl and his then wife-to-be as valued and respected friends, even the Prince Regent, how could the ton cut them? The toadies who follow the Prince Regent’s every whim actually helped, in a sense, for they simply did as he did – if he approved of someone, and of their business, so did they, even if that person was titled, previously scandalous, a merchant, or worse, all of those together. Over the next month or more, after that event, we kept ostentatiously being friendly to Raphael and Sera, at every social event we could, until the ton grew weary of attempting to see it as scandal, and moved on to more titillating gossip. I am sure that we could arrange something similar in this case.”

  “But… that might make the ton less frostily cold to me, and my family, I agree – but how might it allow the truth to be known, allow my honour to be restored, without damage to my family?”

  “It will restore your honour, because we will start with some carefully crafted rumours. We will give them something to gossip about – but something which is to your benefit, rather than to your detriment.”

  “Rumours?”

  “Yes, rumours – about how things have come out which indicate that perhaps your brother was not quite as well behaved a gentleman as others had thought, about how his final demise in a duel over an actress led some to dig deeper, and discover that, whilst he mostly acted as many other men of the ton do, he was not of ideal character. And we will lead from that, in tiny increments, to our ‘mysterious unnamed investigator’ having realised that the issue of having been Second to Sinclair in the duel which took Martin’s life was something far more in character for your brother, than for you. And then we will introduce supposition that perhaps you did the honourable thing, and took the blame, to allow him, as heir, to remain unsullied. At which point the rumours will move on to sympathising with how you must have felt, when he died and you returned to England, to see that your sacrifice had been wasted. And all the while that these rumours are circulating, leading people steadily to the conclusion that we want in the whispers, in the open, at every event, many of us will be speaking with you and your family, and generally proving that there is no reason to be cold to you.”

  Lord Hungerwood was silent, absorbing the remarkable plan which had been laid before him. Marion watched him, unable to look away, remembering all of the moments at Balls where he had suffered the disdain of his peers. She discovered that she wanted this for him, intensely. Finally, he asked the question which had also been in Marion’s mind.

  “Your Grace, when you speak of ‘we’ who do you mean?”

  The Duchess laughed, a bright silvery sound.

  “Oh dear, I did leave that bit out, didn’t I? I believe, at a quick consideration, that we can bring four Dukes, two Marquesses, three Earls, two Viscounts and two Barons to this project immediately, and a number of well-known heirs to titles, plus any friends of theirs who may be persuaded to indulge us. And, whilst it cannot be promised, I do believe that Lord Setford may be able to influence the Prince Regent to perhaps be in the right place at the right time – although if that happens, I am quite sure that your pretty sister will have to accept the Prince Regent’s flirtation, even if only for a few minutes. He can be quite… blatant… when he admires a woman.”

  “I am sure that Faith would manage – she is of quite strong character. But… I have just realised – if I agree to this plan, we will not be able to tell my mother or my sister – I would not want them to hope, and then have that hope dashed if it all came to naught. Nor, for that matter, would I wish them to know what sort of rumours were circulating about Hugh. That would be far too embarrassing for them. Although, I suppose that they will hear some of it, regardless. But I would prefer to limit how much they must suffer.”

  The Duke spoke for the first time since his wife had begun to describe her plan.

  “I do believe, my dear Sylvia, that what you propose is possible and practical. And just might work. We can most certainly implement a plan of that nature, and also keep it from Lady Hungerwood and Lady Faith. We would, Lord Hungerwood, need your assistance in composing these rumours, so that what is said of your brother is based solidly in truth, and impugns his character only so far as necessary for your own honourable nature to shine by comparison.”

  “Of course – I will do whatever is needed – for this is a gift beyond measure that you offer me.”

  The Duke studied the man before him for a moment, then smiled. “For the man who saved my grandson, I will do my utmost. And for the man who has given me the last pieces of the truth about my son’s death, I have eternal gratitude. We have all suffered far too much, for more than six long years, as a result of that one fateful night – I would see the wrongs righted, and the painful memories released, so that we might all move on in our lives, unburdened by the past.”

  “Thank you – I can only agree with your sentiments. To free us all from the past would be a wondrous achievement. A life in which I might live without being reminded every day of the mistakes of the past is something I have only dreamed of.”

  As Lord Hungerwood uttered those words, his eyes met Marion’s and she felt as if he wished to say something more, something for her alone. She smiled, holding his eyes for some time, before turning away. The Duchess observed it all, her eyes bright and perceptive, and nodded quietly to herself.

  “Then we must plan in detail. Lord Hungerwood, are you able to call upon us tomorrow, that we might begin? I expect that we can, with care, have the first rumours circulating within the week.”

  “Your Grace, I can. I will make myself available at your command, for as long as this takes, and hope that, by the end of it, I will see my honour restored, and my family’s situation improved as a result. I will also, I confess, look forward to the chance to get to know your grandson, if you will permit it, Your Grace?”

  The latter question he addressed to the Duke. Marion discovered that she was holding her breath, awaiting the answer.

  “Of course. I suspect that the boy will like you. That is, of course, if you are also in agreeance, Marion?” At her nod, he went on, “I think it a good step towards removing the false beliefs of the past.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace. I will depart now, and leave you to your day. But, before I do, might I have a short word with Lady Scartwick, in private?”

  The Duke and Duchess looked at each other, and as so often happened, something unspoken passed between them. Marion watched, unsure – part of her desperately wanted to be alone with Lord Hungerwood, and part of her feared her own reactions in such a situation – after all, in the Park, she had kissed him, where anyone might have seen – and she did not know if he thought badly of her for that. Or if, indeed, he might be inclined to kiss her in return….

  ~~~~~

  Sin held his breath, for what he asked might be seen as significant impropriety – although widows had far more leeway than unmarried young women.

  But after one quick look between the Duke and Duchess, the Duke turned to him.

  “Of course. We will leave you – do call for more refreshments if you feel the need. I will see you on the morrow, to further our plan.”

  They left the room, and closed the door as they went. Lady Scartwick – Marion, as he more and more allowed himself to think of her – sat, unmoving, waiting. He stepped towards her, unsure of his welcome, but she made the tiniest of gestures to the space beside her on the couch. He sank down, acutely aware of her warmth, such a short distance away.

  Suddenly, he had no idea what to say – yet he needed to know where he stood. The previous night on the
terrace at the Ball, she had fled his embrace, yet this morning, in the Park, she had pressed her lips to his, however fleetingly. He swallowed. She watched him.

  “I… I wanted to apologise.”

  “Apologise?” She looked confused at his words.

  “Yes. For… for whatever I did or said last night, which caused you to abandon me so precipitously, on the terrace.”

  “Oh!” She flushed a little, but met his eyes. “That was not what you did, but rather my own state of mind. You spoke of your belief that I would be honest in conversation, and… I was struck with guilt.”

  “Guilt? But…”

  “Oh dear. I am making a mess of this. But, after the events of today, and after your admission of your secret, it is only fair that I do tell you the truth of this, however embarrassing it may be. Some weeks ago, at a Ball, I had fled the ballroom to hide – from Cardston. I found a library, and settled in the furthest darkest corner, so that I might rest and avoid him. But I had not been there long when I heard the door open, and footsteps. I could not see that part of the room, and I froze, lest it be him.”

  Sin nodded, understanding in a flash of insight.

  “But it was not him, it was me, with Faith, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes – and I heard your whole conversation. For, by the time I knew it was not Cardston, it was far too late to reveal myself. So, since that night, I have known your secret. And it changed how I saw you. From the moment I met you, I had struggled to reconcile the rumours and tales with the honourable man I saw before me – and once I knew the truth, I could no longer allow myself to believe any of it, nor to be cold to you – for you were not the man I would have had cause to hate. But I did not tell you that I had eavesdropped, or that I knew. And when you spoke of my honesty…”

  “You fled, rather than explain, in such a public place, where others might come upon us at any time.” She nodded, her green eyes unhappy. “Then… might I resume at the point where our… conversation was so sharply broken off?”

  He reached for her, and gently pulled her to him, bringing his lips down upon hers. She did not pull away, but, after a moment, relaxed and leant into the kiss. Time slowed, and there was nothing but this woman, the scent of her intoxicating, the feel of her lips against his sweeter than anything he had ever felt. Her lips parted, allowing him access, and a tiny sigh escaped her. Then her lips moved against his, and she pressed into his arms, as hungry for the moment as he was. It lasted forever, and barely a moment. He drew back, and held her eyes. She smiled, tremulously, then burst into tears. He pulled her against him, cradling her as she cried, releasing all of the fear and stress of the day, and most likely of the last six years as well.

  Chapter Fourteen

  For the next few days, Marion did not attend any social events. She concentrated on spending time with Daniel, making sure that he was none the worse for his adventure, and on the planning for their grand scheme to restore Lord Hungerwood’s honour in the eyes of the ton. Each day, she found herself awaiting his arrival eagerly, and secretly hoping for a chance to arise which might lead to another kiss. It did not, until the second day, on which day Cardston was finally removed from the cellar, and taken away in a carriage sent by Lord Setford, to be placed upon a ship which sailed on that morning’s tide.

  Knowing that Cardston would be gone from the country lifted a great weight from Marion’s soul. He had been persuaded to write and sign a note, which was sent to his family, informing them that he had chosen to sail for the Americas. For a week or two, Marion was sure it would be speculated about amongst the ton, but soon, she hoped, their carefully constructed rumours about Lord Hungerwood’s brother would overtake Cardston’s disappearance as the favoured gossip of the day.

  As Setford’s men led Cardston away, Marion had stood in the parlour, behind an almost closed door, and watched as he was removed from the house – she needed to see it, to know that it had happened, that he was truly gone. Just before Cardston was removed, Lord Hungerwood had stepped into the parlour, having just arrived.

  They were alone, and he had not said a word when she mostly closed the door and watched. He had simply stepped up behind her, and gently settled his hands on her hips. She had leant back against the hard strength of him, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. When Cardston was gone, he had reached past her shoulder, and pushed the door shut. She turned in his arms, and looked up at him.

  This kiss was an exploration, in some ways a celebration of the removal of something bad from her life. It sent warmth through her, and left her aching, wanting, as she had not, since the day of Martin’s death. She did not yet know what she desired with this man, but she knew, without doubt, that it was worth pursuing. When they finally drew apart, he smiled, that brilliant smile which transformed his face, and tugged at her heart.

  “My Lady, dare I assume that you wish to further our acquaintance, that you feel an intensity of connection between us, as I do?”

  “I… I do not know what I want, in truth, not yet. That I wish to spend time in your company, that I enjoy your kisses – that much I know. But where that might lead… there is far too much to deal with at present for me to think clearly on the matter.”

  “Then we will go slowly, and find clarity together.”

  “I think so. let us not overly scandalise the ton all at once. While the rumours are set, and the change in your reception amongst the ton is orchestrated, let us talk at Balls and other events, let us dance, and walk on terraces and in gardens, but nothing more. Once that plan is well advanced, perhaps then, you might wish to call upon me, and… discuss… what we each want.”

  He lifted his hand, and cupped her cheek, and Marion felt his touch as heat, and yet as gentle care. It shocked her, then, just how much she cared for this man, how much she wanted to explore what might be possible for them, once the spectre of the past no longer haunted either of them.

  “As you wish, my Lady. But I do not promise not to steal a kiss, every so often.”

  He brushed his lips across hers again, gently, the touch a commitment to his words, yet arousing to a far greater degree than such a simple touch might be expected to be. They stepped apart, by unspoken consent, and settled to discussing the ongoing plan, awaiting the Duke and Duchess to finalise their ideas.

  ~~~~~

  A week later, when Sin stepped into the ballroom at Lady Croftonleigh’s townhome, the whispers began, as always. But this time, there was something different about it. The young women eyed him with even more interest, and more flirtatious looks, their mothers pushed them forward with more enthusiasm. The men eyed him with barely concealed curiosity.

  And, every so often, as he moved about the room, he overheard a word or two – his brother’s name, and snippets of speculation – one memorable one was a lady who obviously thought herself a wit, contemplating whether ‘Sin the sinner was wicked in the ‘right’ way, or in a dishonourable way...’ Sin flinched a little, then forced a non-committal smile onto his face, and pretended not to have heard at all.

  Soon after, the Duke and Duchess of Windemere arrived, with Lady Scartwick at their side. His eyes went to her, and he admired, yet again, what a beautiful woman she was, and how gracefully, elegantly so, with none of the posturing of the younger women. As they had agreed, he went forward to greet the Duke, and they fell into an obviously friendly conversation.

  As they spoke, they moved about the room, and the Duke introduced him to other men and women – people of significance, who also treated him warmly. At each event they attended, he would meet more people, like this, introduced from person to person, through an extended web of connections. He discovered that he liked the people who he was introduced to, in almost every case, and hoped that continued to be the pattern.

  He had not realised just how empty the continual coldness of the ton had left him feeling, until the first time that he was greeted with warmth. It was as if an aching void was slowly being healed within him. He could so easily have staye
d by Lady Scartwick’s side for the entire evening – but he did not, he did not have the right to do so, not yet. Instead, he danced with hopeful young women, saving the waltz for Lady Scartwick, and concentrated on being seen to have the right friends. It was far more exhausting than he had expected.

  When the time for the waltz finally arrived, he took Lady Scartwick in his arms with a sense of relief. For the span of the dance, he could cease pretending, cease needing to be utterly careful of every word he said, and simply enjoy the moment. And enjoy it he did – far more than he could ever remember enjoying dancing in his life before.

  She looked up at him with those soft green eyes, her fingers tightened on his, and everything else faded away. They moved without thought being required, completely in tune with each other. He smiled, lost in the wonder of a moment when all stresses were forgotten.

  He came back to himself when she spoke – her words so soft that they were barely audible.

  “They whisper about your brother, which is good. But… they also whisper about Cardston, and not in the way that we expected. Someone saw his wild driving in the Park, someone who recognised both him, and you. They whisper about his odd behaviour, and your daring act – and they wonder what caused it all, and why you did it. They perceive you as a hero, having saved everyone from his mad driving, and the accident which was certain to happen if he had continued. At least none of them seem to have seen us remove Daniel from the carriage. And from the tone of their whispers, being seen as a hero is doing no harm to your image.”

  Sin looked at her, shocked – it was not a result that he had expected – at the time, all he had cared about was saving Daniel.

  “That is a… surprising… piece of news.”

  All too soon, the music ended, and he was forced to let her go – he found that he did not wish to – not then, not ever.

  That thought made him falter, as they walked back to the Duke. ‘Not ever’ – did he really mean that? For there was only one conclusion to be drawn from such a thought. He pushed the idea away – there would be time to consider it later – when he was not in the midst of a crowd of people, all avidly watching his every move. That they now were conflicted, some calling him hero, and some still calling him blackguard, amused him darkly, but made their attention all that more focussed.