Brides of London: Regency Romance Collection

by Alec, Joyce

  12

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Daniel stared at Lord Townend, feeling a wave of revulsion crash into him.

  “That is what I have heard, yes,” Lord Townend repeated gravely. “How glad I am that you have decided to stick to the shadows for the time being, my friend, for I do not think that the ton would easily welcome you now.”

  Daniel closed his eyes and ran one hand over his face. They had been deliberately tardy, thinking it best to ensure that the ball was in full swing before seeking out Lord Mercer and questioning him as to who had written the bet in the White’s betting book. Unfortunately, it now appeared that Lord Mercer was swallowed up by his crowd of guests and was, most likely, already deeply in his cups. He was a gentleman inclined towards liquor, Daniel had been told, although that was not always a bad thing. Some gentlemen were much more liable to speak openly and honestly when a good deal of brandy was running through their veins.

  Now, however, Daniel feared that he would not be able to even speak to Lord Mercer, given what society now believed him to have done.

  “I do not understand,” he muttered, dropping his hand and leaning his head back against the wall of the ballroom as a bead of sweat ran down his spine. “What is it precisely that is being said?” He looked at Lord Townend, whose gaze drifted away almost at once, shuffling his feet in evident awkwardness. “Do not hide it from me, Townend,” Daniel pleaded, even though a deep sense of dread settled in his chest. “Be honest with me.”

  Lord Townend sighed heavily and finally fixed his gaze back upon Daniel. “There are a few things that are being said. They all center around you being at the bawdy house and playing far too many hands and betting a good deal too much—to the point that you lost some of your possessions.”

  Daniel’s stomach twisted. “Possessions?”

  Again, Lord Townend looked away. “Clothing included.”

  Awash with both horror and disgust, Daniel closed his eyes tightly and clenched his teeth. There was no truth to those words, of course, but no doubt the wagging tongues of the beau monde would latch onto the story regardless, adding to it in their own way however they wished. “And who has said such things about me? From whom did you hear it?”

  Lord Townend shook his head again, his eyes blazing with an anger that Daniel, as yet, did not quite feel. “I cannot say,” he replied honestly. “I have tried to discover the source but, as yet, I have made no progress whatsoever.” He shifted uneasily. “I cannot help but wonder if it is wise for you to remain here, Williamson. Not because I fear that you are guilty of such a thing, for I know you are not, given that you and I were in company last evening, but I fear that the ton may very well turn against you should your presence here become known.”

  Wishing he could protest his innocence in front of all the guests, which he knew would include Miss Smallwood, Daniel let out a long breath and closed his eyes tightly, screwing up his features.

  “I am aware that this is most unfair,” Lord Townend continued, evidently seeing Daniel’s distress, “but you must think of your own reputation and also of Miss Smallwood.”

  Daniel groaned. “She will have heard yet more of my poor behavior and will believe it,” he exclaimed, opening his eyes to see Lord Townend’s jaw working hard. “And this accusation now is something more than merely a poor decision or a lack of consideration. It is…” he trailed off, his head in his hands. “It is downright obscene.”

  His heart began to quail within him. It was as though something had been ready to set him and Miss Smallwood asunder from the very first, as though some unknown force was trying to set them both apart even though they wanted to be near to each other. That was the worst of it, Daniel realized. The more he had enjoyed Miss Smallwood’s company, the more he had spent time with her, the more he had conversed with her, the more he had come to realize that his heart was willingly becoming engaged to hers. He wanted to be in her company and did not like being apart from her. It was foolish of him not to have sought her father’s permission to court her as yet, even though that was his intention. At least he had made that clear to Miss Smallwood, although what she would think of that statement now, he had very little idea.

  “Do not look so disturbed, old boy,” Lord Townend hissed, making Daniel lift his head from his hands. “You must not gain anyone’s attention, do you understand? To do so would make things all the more difficult. I shall do what I can to find out the truth about where such rumors have come from, of course, but I fear that you yourself can do nothing.”

  “I must speak to Mercer.”

  Lord Townend hesitated, his expression tight with both anger and a touch of worry. “I know you are eager to, but I cannot think that it is a wise idea. Not when you might very well be seen and called out by some gentleman or other—once you are known to be here, then all and sundry will seek you out, ready to find yet another sliver of gossip upon which they might chew.” He winced as Daniel closed his eyes, knowing that his friend was still determined not to hide away.

  “I must find out something,” Daniel declared, opening his eyes and setting his shoulders. “I must know if Lord Mercer can do anything to aid me in my quest to discover who is behind this.”

  Lord Townend shook his head. “You are being foolish.”

  “And yet, I will do so regardless,” Daniel told him determinedly. “I do this not for my own sake but for that of Miss Smallwood. I cannot bear to have her going through the rest of the Season, and mayhap the rest of her life, thinking so ill of me! Not when there is a chance for her happiness, Townend. Not when there might be a happiness for us both.”

  Lord Townend sighed heavily and rubbed at his forehead. “Very well. But you must be cautious.”

  “I shall be,” Daniel promised grimly. “I am well aware of what is at stake.” The gossipmongers were present this evening, in their usual great numbers, for it seemed to be a pastime of married ladies to talk about every single piece of rumor they could discover. There was, it seemed, already a good deal being discussed about him and he did not want to give them anything more. At the very least, should he have the opportunity to speak to Miss Smallwood, he would be able to give her proof that he had not been at the bawdy house, as was being suggested. He could direct her to Lord Townend, who could state, honestly, that Daniel had been at his residence last evening for a late supper and a discussion about what else they could do to discover who was fighting against Daniel with such determination. Even Lord Townend’s staff could be used to prove that he spoke the truth.

  But he had to hope she would speak to him at all. If she had already heard all that was being said of him—and he quite believed that she would have done by now—then she might decide that he was not worth her time any longer. She might refuse even to acknowledge him. The very thought sent an arrow through his heart.

  “I shall return to your residence thereafter, shall I?” Lord Townend asked, as he made to step away. “I do not expect you to be lingering here long.”

  Daniel shook his head. “Come tomorrow,” he replied, thinking that he could benefit from a quiet evening with nothing more than his thoughts as company. “Early, if you wish.”

  Lord Townend nodded. “Of course. Try to rest easy. I am certain that we shall find a way through this ether.”

  Daniel, who felt as though the darkness was closing in on him on every side, could barely bring himself to nod, although he managed a small one before Lord Townend moved away. Taking in a long breath, he moved a little to the right, so as to keep his features as hidden by shadow as he could. The music, the dancing, and the laughter held no joy for him now. All he could hear were the whispers and the mocking laughter that were certain to come his way, should he reveal himself.

  And then, he saw Miss Martin.

  She was watching him from her own, dark corner, although her pale face was clearly visible from where he stood. Her eyes were fixed on his, wide and holding a look of fear that had his own heart filling with concern. Miss Martin had
always kept away from him since she had become a companion, kept her distance and made it quite clear that she did not wish for his company, but now there was something in her face that had him wondering if there was, for the first time, a need for her to seek his aid.

  “Come here.”

  The whispered words did not meet Miss Martin’s ears, of course, but he beckoned her along with them, to which he immediately saw her react. Her glance to the left and then to the right made him wonder if she was immediately about to refuse him, if she was immediately about to turn her head and look in the entirely opposite direction, but then, much to his surprise, she began to make her way towards him.

  His breath caught in his chest as she drew close, seeing a vulnerability in her expression that he had not seen in a very long time.

  “Miss Martin,” he murmured as she looked up at him. “I presume you have heard the rumors.”

  She nodded but said nothing.

  “They are not true,” he insisted, wondering if she was questioning whether or not he was being honest with her. “Just as matters with Lady Burton were untrue, just as the bet in White’s was not written with my own hand. Someone is set against me and I pray, Miss Martin, that it is not you.”

  His words were quiet, but still, Miss Martin jerked visibly as if he had prodded her, hard.

  “No, Williamson, these things are not of my doing,” she answered him, her head low now. “Although I cannot pretend that I have not done my part to keep Miss Smallwood from you.”

  “But why have you done so?” he begged, the desire to finally discover the truth burning up in him again. “Why have you tried to keep your charge from me? Why have you called me a cad when you know I am not?”

  Miss Martin looked up at him, her eyes glassy. “I believe you are,” she told him without hesitation. “You use your power and authority to keep things from occurring in a way that would bring happiness to others. You need not deny it, Williamson. I know you did.”

  Daniel blinked, his mouth a little ajar as he stared at her. He did not understand what she spoke of, shaking his head as he fought to make sense of it.

  “I do not know what you mean, Miss Martin, truly,” he promised, seeing how she looked away. “Please, I—”

  She turned around and made to walk away and, in his desperation, he reached out and grasped her shoulder, making her turn at once.

  “Please, Christina.”

  Her expression softened at once and she closed her eyes, slowly turning back to him.

  “Will you not help me?” he pleaded, his voice tremulous, such was the weight of his emotions. “I am being torn apart in front of the beau monde and have no understanding as to why or for what reason. I care for Miss Smallwood, whether you wish to believe it or not. I had every intention of speaking to her father about courting her, with a view to proposing soon thereafter.”

  At this, Miss Martin’s head shot up, her eyes wide.

  “Tis true,” he asserted, seeing how her face paled a little. “I care deeply for Miss Smallwood, but now I am being kept from her by nothing more than lies and rumors. I want to set things aright but I do not know how to do so. I cannot discover who it is that is fighting against me, Christina. Do you know nothing? Is there not one word of insight you can give me that would aid me in this?”

  Miss Martin swallowed hard, her eyes filling with tears. Tears that he had not seen fall in years.

  “I—I have lied about you to Miss Smallwood,” she whispered, a single tear coursing down her cheek. “I wanted to bring you pain. I wanted to keep you from happiness, in the same way that you kept it from me.”

  Daniel wanted to bellow aloud with frustration. “I have done nothing of the sort! I—” His hand tightened on her shoulder without intention and he dropped it to his side, seeing how she shook her head.

  “I think my charge is aware of my falseness,” Miss Martin continued sorrowfully. “I have let my anger bubble over to the point that I now see I have not treated you or her with fairness. Perhaps…” She looked away, clearly ashamed. “I will encourage her to call upon you tomorrow. I shall tell her everything then.”

  “And you shall tell me everything also,” Daniel insisted, seeing a frown darken her features. “I speak the truth when I state that I do not understand what it is you hold against me, Christina.”

  She nodded but said nothing, her disbelief evident. Turning, she made to leave him, only to turn her head. “Tomorrow,” she said, as though this was a promise she was making to him. “Tomorrow, all shall be known, no matter what happens to me thereafter.” Turning her head away again, she moved back through the crowd, leaving Daniel standing in both relief and frustration. Relief that she was to tell him everything, but frustration that it had taken her so long to even consider doing such a thing. He wanted to find a footman and down at least three brandies, in the hope that it might take the edge from his frantic, whirling thoughts and emotions, but knew that he could not. Lord Mercer was to be the gentleman he found next.

  Thankfully, Lord Mercer was not particularly difficult to locate. A quiet word to a footman directed Daniel to the card room, where many gentlemen went when the dancing and the revelry became a little too much. Daniel heard Lord Mercer before he saw him, catching the gentleman’s booming voice echoing out from the room and into the hallway.

  He could not go in, that much he knew. To walk directly into the card room would be to face a good many gentlemen, all staring at him with full knowledge of the stories and rumors about him evident on their faces. Lord Mercer himself might react badly to Daniel’s presence, particularly if he was in his cups. Sighing heavily, Daniel moved slowly forward, seeing a small alcove just beyond the door of the card room where he might hide himself. Slipping past the door, he stopped dead upon hearing his name being spoken by another gentleman.

  “I could not quite believe it!” he heard the fellow say, flattening himself against the wall as a ball of anger settled itself in his stomach. “There he was, half-dressed and half cut by the look of it!” A loud guffaw crashed about the room, setting Daniel’s teeth on edge. “Of course, Lord Williamson will deny it, but there is no doubt about what I saw. In fact, I even have his money to prove it!”

  Daniel wanted to shout that money was no proof at all, but the other gentlemen within the card room all laughed uproariously at this and Daniel knew there was no point in trying to defend himself. Clenching his jaw tight, he balled his hands into fists and tried to keep his composure.

  “I do not know what has come over the man, behaving like that!” he heard Lord Mercer exclaim. “As far as I know, he is not at all that sort of fellow.”

  “Obviously he is,” came the first voice, still chuckling. “It is just that he has been well able to hide it from us thus far.”

  There was a short pause. “So it would seem,” Lord Mercer muttered, as Daniel fought to hear what was being said. “A little disappointing, I must say.”

  Still battling the urge to fling himself into the room and defend himself against these vile accusations, Daniel struggled to think clearly, trying to work out what was best for him to do next. He could wait for Lord Mercer to come out of the card room, although that might take hours, or he could try and identify the gentleman that had been speaking. Surely one of them would emerge soon enough? Nodding to himself, Daniel moved slowly towards the alcove, making sure his feet made no noise whatsoever on the floor. He had only just managed to draw near it, hiding himself away, when two gentlemen walked from the card room, talking to each other in an animated fashion.

  “Do you think it is true?” said the first as they walked away. “Lord Williamson is not inclined to such behavior, surely?”

  The second man shrugged, his voice fading away as Daniel strained to hear him. “But he was seen there,” the man answered. He laughed loudly. “Although why no one is questioning his behavior, I could not say!”

  The first gentleman laughed as well, before saying something more that Daniel could not hear.
/>   His mind began to fire with painful darts, his heart slamming into his chest as the chance to discover just who it was that was telling such lies faded from him. Groaning in irritation, he slammed his head back against the wall much harder than he had intended, sending a wave of pain coursing through his skull. His head began to ache furiously and he bent low, covering his head with his hands as he fell to his haunches, gritting his teeth against the pain.

  “I shall take what you took from me.”

  Daniel looked up, hearing those hissed words but being quite unable to make out the face of the gentleman who now stood over him. He was about to stand up when, out of nowhere, something came crashing into the side of his head. Falling to the floor in a crumpled heap, Daniel tried to look up, tried to speak through the haze of pain that now surrounded him, but found he could do neither. Shadows were slowly but surely blocking out the light from his eyes, his head screaming in torment.

  “You denied me and so I deny you,” said the low voice, filled with wrath. “You are undone, Lord Williamson.” This was accompanied by a sharp kick to Daniel’s stomach, which had him curling in pain, a groan escaping from him. The gentleman began to walk away, with Daniel trying to shout after him, but the darkness was becoming too great. It held him back, prevented him from speaking until, finally, it stole his consciousness completely.

  13

  “Miss Smallwood?”

  Louisa did not move an inch, although her back stiffened immediately. She continued to gaze out of the window, not reacting in the least to the arrival of Miss Martin.

  “Please, Miss Smallwood, might I just have a moment? It is of great importance, I assure you.”

  “I do not want to hear what you have to say, Miss Martin,” Louisa replied, her spirits lower than they had ever been before. “Were it not that my father was still abed, you would find yourself without employment any longer and be gone from this house.” She knew her words were cruel and cutting, but she did not care. In a way, she felt as though Miss Martin deserved them, for there was clearly a good deal that she was keeping from Louisa and Louisa knew quite certainly that she could not trust her companion in any way. Nothing made sense to her, but she did not want to try and understand it. She would resign herself to being the wife of Sir Walton, even though that would, most likely, break her spirits entirely. Gone was the newfound confidence in herself, the determination and the strength of spirit that Miss Grey had so encouraged within Louisa. There was nothing but sadness now.