Читать книгу Lady Priscilla’s Shameful Secret - Christine Merrill - Страница 10

‘Priscilla, you have a visitor.’

No, she hadn’t. For whom that she actually wished to see would be likely to make a call? Her old friends had cast her off quick enough, after her fall from grace. The sister she longed to see had been banned from the house. And she had gone out of her way to do nothing on the previous evening to warrant a call.

But rather than scolding her for her rudeness during the ride home, both her father and Veronica had seemed inordinately pleased with the turn events had taken. It was as though they’d shared some bit of information between them that she was not privy to.

Please do not let it be the duke. Because what would she do with the man, should he persist? ‘Tell whoever it is that I am indisposed.’

Her bedroom door opened and Veronica poked in her head. ‘I certainly will not. Reighland is in the sitting room, and you are going to see him.’ She crossed the room, seized Priss by the arm and pulled her to her feet, brushing the wrinkles from her gown and smoothing a hand over her hair to rearrange the flattened curls.

‘I am not prepared. I do not wish to see him.’ And I do not wish to marry him. She doubted pleading with Ronnie would help, but neither would it hurt.

‘You are unprepared because you spend your days hiding in bed with your Minerva novels, feigning illness to avoid company. Now come downstairs.’

‘Send him away.’

‘I certainly will not.’ Ronnie was pushing her out into the hall and put a firm hand in her back to hurry her along. ‘If you mean to put him off, you must do it yourself. And if you do, you will suffer the consequences for it. Your father will not be pleased.’ She said it in a dark tone to remind her that there were worse things awaiting her than social ostracism, should she fail.

Priss gave her a mutinous look. ‘Do not be so melodramatic. Father will do nothing worse to me than shout and sulk, as he has done the whole of my life. Perhaps he will banish me from the house, as he did Dru. Although how that is a punishment, I do not know. It is clear to all of London that she is the better for it.’

‘It is not your father who should worry you, dear,’ Ronnie replied, voice cold and venomous. ‘You should know, after spending several months under the same roof with me, I will be far less forgiving. If you will not go to the duke, I will bring him to you and lock the bedroom door behind him until the matter is settled.’

The image of being so trapped with such a forbidding man made Priss a little sick, and she thanked the fates that she had not been caught en déshabillé today. While her father might view this as an alliance with a powerful man, she had no doubt that Ronnie would engineer her total disgrace with any man available, simply to have her out of the house. The woman was all but thrusting her through the door of the salon where her guest awaited.

But she showed no sign of following. Priss grabbed her arm, trying to pull her into the room as well. ‘You are going to sit with us, of course,’ she said hopefully. ‘For surely a chaperon—’

‘He is a duke,’ the other woman whispered. ‘He does not require a chaperon.’

‘It is not for him,’ Priss snapped back, embarrassed that the duke could likely overhear this interchange, for he was scant feet across the room. Could they not at least pretend that she had some honour left?

‘You were happy enough to escape the care of your sister, while she was still here. It makes no sense, a year later, that you are having a fit of the vapours over a few minutes alone with a man.’ Her stepmother pushed harder. ‘He is a duke. He wishes to speak to you alone. Benbridge said he was most specific on that point. I do not mean to be the one to argue.’

‘My father is allowing this?’ Priss felt another small bit of her world crumbling. She had received continual signs from Ronnie that her presence was an inconvenience. But usually Papa was more subtle with his displeasure.

‘Your father thinks that Reighland is an excellent catch. He is amenable to certain laxities if it smoothes the way for an offer.’

‘But what if Reighland is not as honourable as he seems? What if he takes advantage?’ Priss whispered back, directly into Veronica’s ear.

The other woman’s eyes narrowed and she pulled her head away. ‘Do not play the sweet-and-innocent miss with me, Priscilla. If he takes advantage, then you are to do as he says and come to me afterwards. We will tell your father of it and the duke will be forced to offer with no more nonsense. But whatever you do, do not ruin the opportunity, for I doubt you will have a better one.’

Priss’s heart sank. It was plain what her father expected of her. Society expected it as well. But knowing what she did, she could not imagine how she would manage it. If Reighland offered today, she would have to say no. The skies might open and hell might rain down on her if she disobeyed, but then perhaps Papa would see she was in earnest and she would have some peace. She disentangled herself from Ronnie and glanced into the mirror on the hall wall, touching her hair and straightening her skirts. Then she turned and went into the salon, where Reighland awaited her.

The footman announced her and she waved him away with a flick of her hand, trying not to flinch as she heard the door closing behind her. She focused all her attention on the man in front of her, muttering, ‘Your Grace’, and dropping a curtsy letting her eyes travel up from the floor until they met his face.

And it was such a long way for her gaze to travel. He was well over six feet. She noticed the sprinkling of dark hair on the backs of his hands and up his wrists, disappearing into his shirt cuffs. It made her wonder what the rest of him would be like, without his clothes.

She quickly stifled the thought, for it only made her more frightened. There was a harmony to him, as though nature had sought to make an animal both intimidating and powerful. In the bedroom he would be just as large as he had been in the ballroom.

‘Please, Lady Priscilla, if we are to be friends, let us not stand on ceremony. You must call me Robert.’ His voice matched the rest of him. Deep, growling, with just a taste of a rasp that made the hairs on her neck stand to attention.

He was examining her now, top to bottom, as she had him. There was no hint of lust in it, which was just as well. If she’d thought that that was the first thing on his mind, she’d probably have run from the room in terror. This was more clinical, as though he was wondering about sound teeth, good wind and strong limbs.

But the desire that she use his first name was a very bad sign.

‘Has your father explained the purpose for my visit?’

‘No, your Grace,’ she said, avoiding the offered intimacy. ‘But I am not so dim that I cannot guess it.’

‘And what say you to it?’

She searched her mind for a response that did not use the word that came most easily to mind: trapped. ‘I thought I made it clear to you yesterday evening.’

He gave her the same blank look as he had on the previous evening. ‘You merely said you would not be agreeing with me. I do not see that as an impediment to matrimony.’ No talk of wooing at all. The man did like to cut to the chase.

He thought for a moment. ‘You would have to agree at the altar, of course. But after that …’

Was he joking? It almost seemed that he might be. But his expression was so closed that it was impossible to tell. ‘Are you sure you are quite sane?’ she asked. For madness was the only other explanation.

‘Is it necessary to be so?’ he asked innocently. ‘I was given to understand that my title was hereditary. From what I have seen of others in the peerage, you are the only one concerned with my sanity. If you mean to ask next if I am stupid, I will admit that I am not as quick as some. But in my brief stay in London, I have found many who were greater dullards.’

He was joking, then. But did he expect her to laugh? He seemed most sober. Perhaps he was seeking a mate who would be amused by him. More likely, she would be the butt of the joke, once he knew her better. His dry comments would seem innocent enough when he spoke them in public, but she would know the true meaning and would be left burning with shame.

And she could not abide a lifetime of that. ‘May I be frank with you, your Grace?’

‘It shall be an exciting change from the hesitant sentiments you have thus far expressed.’

‘My rejection is not against you, personally,’ she lied. ‘It is only that I do not wish to submit easily to marrying any titled man that my father might choose.’

He gave her a sad smile. ‘Then I fear you will submit with difficulty. With force, if necessary.’

Was this meant to be a threat? She would receive no help from Veronica, should he choose to make good on it. Priss felt another rising tide of panic. ‘Do you mean to force me, then?’

‘I shall not have to. Your father seems quite sure of your co-operation, no matter what you might say. You know better than I what he is capable of.’

Maybe it had been a warning, then. But her obvious difficulties had not bothered him enough to give him a distaste for a union with the family. ‘And you would accept a wife who was so unwilling.’

‘Benbridge will see you bound to someone, this Season. If you hold any choice in contempt, then you could do worse than to take me, should you be obligated to marry.’

Papa could not drag her screaming to the altar, but he was crafty, and Ronnie even more so. They had ways that she could not comprehend. The duke was right. There could well be worse choices. Her dislike of this particular man was not as instantaneous as she’d expected. But the size of him was simply too intimidating, and time was not likely to change it. ‘You are no better than he is, if you care so little about how I come to you.’

‘But I am hoping that you might come to think of me as the lesser of two, or more, evils,’ he said, still without smiling. ‘The devil you know, rather than the devil you don’t. Personally, once I am set upon a course, I do not intend to take no for an answer. And I am set on having you.’

She stared back, planning her next move. If he would not let her cry off, then she would have to work harder to give him a distaste of her. She smiled back at him, with a suddenness and brilliance he would know was false. ‘I am happy to be given the opportunity for such an advantageous match.’

He snorted. ‘Are you, really? You did not look it a moment ago.’ He was examining her again. ‘But I believe the last half of the statement. This will be an advantageous match. From your side, at least’

She bit back a furious retort. He was correct, after all. It was simply rude of him to mention the fact.

‘I am recently come to the title, of course,’ he said, with humbleness that was as false as her smile. ‘I did not expect it. The old duke’s heir died within the same year as his father, my father already having passed …’

‘It matters not to me how you came to be a duke,’ she said, still half-hoping her bluntness would put him off. ‘It only matters that you are one at the time of offering. Beyond that, I have little interest in you.’ She tried to look eager at the notion of such a prestigious match. Perhaps he would not want a title hunter.

He was staring at her again, thoughtfully. ‘Considering your pedigree, it should be advantageous to the man involved as well. You are young, beautiful and well born. Why are you not married already, I wonder? For how could any man resist such a sweet and amenable nature?’

‘Perhaps I was waiting for you, your Grace.’ She dropped her smile, making no effort to hide her contempt.

‘Or perhaps the rumours I hear are true and you have dishonoured yourself.’

‘Who …?’ The word had escaped before she could marshal a denial. But she had experienced a moment’s uncontrollable fear that, somewhere Dru had been that she had not, the ugly truth of it all had escaped and that now her happily married sister was laughing at her expense.

‘Who told me? Why, you did, just now.’ He was smiling in triumph. ‘It is commonly known that the younger daughter of the Earl of Benbridge no longer goes about in society because of the presence of the elder. But I assumed there would be more to it than that. And I was correct.’

Success at last, though it came with a sick feeling in her stomach and the wish that it had come any way but this. She had finally managed to ruin everything. Father would be furious if this opportunity slipped through her fingers. It would serve him right, for pushing this upon her. ‘You have guessed correctly, your Grace. And now I assume that this interview is at an end.’ She gestured towards the door.

‘On the contrary,’ he replied. ‘You have much more to tell me before I depart from here. Does the sad state of your reputation have anything to do with your family’s willingness that we might meet alone?’

‘There is no reason that we should not,’ she replied. ‘He expects that you will offer for me, not rape me on the divan in the lounge.’

If her frankness startled him, it did not show. ‘And what if I did?’

‘Then I would cry to my father and he would demand that you marry me.’

‘As you might at any rate,’ he pointed out. ‘The door is closed and we are alone. Should you wish to tell tales about my behaviour, I would have no evidence to refute them.’

‘Perhaps I would if I wished to trap you into marriage,’ she snapped. ‘It is you who have come to me and not the other way round. I never gave you any reason to think I wished a union. If your intentions are not in that direction, then, as I said before, you had best leave.’

He ignored the door and looked her up and down again, walking slowly around her, so as to view her from all angles. Then he spoke. ‘Truth now. I will not tell your father, if that is what you fear. You have my word. Is there another, perhaps someone inferior to me, that you might prefer?’

‘Would it matter?’ she asked in exasperation. ‘Between the two of you, you and my father seem to have settled the matter.’

‘It might,’ Reighland said, after a moment. ‘And you did not answer my question.’

‘If we are taking my opinions into account at this late date, then I shall tell you again: there is no other. All the same, I prefer to remain unmarried. Even if I sought marriage, it would not be with you. We do not suit. I thought I made that clear to you, when we danced.’

‘I see.’ He was staring at her again, appraising. ‘You do not wish to leave the loving bosom of your family.’

She almost laughed at the absurdity of it. ‘Of course I do. There is a dower house on the property in Cornwall that stands empty. And land further north where I might stay with my mother’s sister. Perhaps I could go to Scotland. Any of those would do for a genteel spinsterhood. That is all I seek for myself.’

‘Then I am sorry to disappoint you. As I said before, your father has no intention of allowing that. You will be married. If not to me, then to some other. Since you have no concrete objections, other than an illogical dislike of me, I will speak to your father. We will formalise this arrangement by the end of the month.’

Arrangement. Was that all it was to him? She had known when it came time to marry that there would be no love match. But she had not thought it would be quite so passionless as this. And so she blurted, before he could leave, ‘If you mean to go ahead with this, then you had best know the whole truth, so that you do not reproach me with it on our wedding night. I am no longer innocent.’ She would pay the price for her honesty, she was sure. The duke would storm out and tell her father. Then she would get a long lecture from Benbridge and his new wife about her stupidity in disobeying their orders and casting aside the only match they had been able to make for her.

But at least it would be over.

The Duke of Reighland was still standing there, giving her the same curious, up-and-down examination that he had been. Then he asked, ‘Are you pregnant?’

‘Certainly not!’ Her cheeks heated and her palm itched to slap him for being so bold as to ask. Then a thought struck her. ‘If I was, then why would I bother to tell you?’

‘Why would you have told me anything?’ he asked back, just as sensibly. ‘If you wished to marry me, you would have kept quiet on the first point. But if you truly wished to frighten me away, you’d have lied about the second. The two statements, taken together, only make sense to me if they are true. They seem to imply that you are a most candid young lady. The truth is an admirable quality and quite rare in London. It must be cherished when it is found. I have learned all I wish to know. I will have you.’ He stepped closer to her and she felt a sudden panicked scrambling desire to move away, back across the room before he would touch her.

But he did nothing more than bow before her, taking her cold hand in his and offering a kiss that was the barest touch of his lips against the skin. ‘Now, with your permission, I will depart.’ He rose and smiled. ‘And with or without your permission, I will visit you again. While I am decided, I think we have more to discuss before an announcement can be made.’

She sat down on the couch behind her, numb with shock. He left the room and she could hear him speaking to her stepmother in the hall, arranging for another visit.

He was decided.

What had she said to him that had made the decision? She had done everything in her power to put him off. The truth, there at the end, should have been enough to send him running from the room. She was not good enough for him. Any rumours he might have heard of her elopement were true. She was ruined.

Yet he meant to come again. To persuade her. She felt a shudder rising from deep within her and tried to tell herself that it was revulsion. That was not true. But neither was it desire. She did not find him attractive. He was too large, too imposing and in all ways too blunt. She was not exactly frightened of him. That would be like fearing a mountain, or perhaps a cliff that one had no intention of standing on. It was more like awe, really.

She was not used to being in awe of anyone. The glamour of a title had been tarnished to her years ago.

And as for men?

She removed a handkerchief from her sleeve and delicately mopped her brow. Those secrets had been stripped away as well. Men were not nearly as pleasant as they appeared. She would be quite content to do without them, if only it would be permitted.

Veronica’s voice, as she saw the duke to the door, was light, flirtatious and sycophantic. Whatever Priss might feel on the subject, her prospective husband was a favourite of the household and she was unlikely to escape him.

She thought of the size of him and the way he would come to her, naked, hairy as a bear, crushing her body with his weight, sweating and grunting over her as he pushed and thrust.

There was a soft rip and she noticed that she had torn the lace on the corner of the handkerchief she’d forgotten she was holding. She would need to mend it before an explanation was required of her. There had been a time when she might have lost a hundred such linens and experienced no punishment. But that was when Dru had still been in the house and there had been no Veronica, eager to find fault with her.

The duke was barely gone from the room when the doors to the salon burst open and her stepmother entered. ‘Well, then?’

‘He has offered,’ Priss affirmed glumly.

Veronica clapped her hands together in triumph. ‘Lucky for us and far better than you deserve. I will put the announcement in The Times immediately.’

‘He does not wish to announce it yet,’ she said.

‘Then we will allow him to make that decision.’

‘I have not said yes.’

Veronica was across the room in a moment, her hands in Priss’s hair to pull her gaze up to meet her. ‘Perhaps your father might permit your wilfulness, but we have seen where that led. When the time is right, you will say yes, like any sensible girl, because, my lady, in a few months there will be no space for you in this house. I will need your room for a nursery.’

‘There are a dozen rooms that will suit just as well,’ Priss said, glaring back at her and feeling the claws tightening against her scalp.

‘But I favour the light in yours,’ Veronica said with a small tight smile. ‘You will be out of this house and you will be thankful that we are sending you to such a fortunate marriage and not out into the street as you deserve. But you will not be allowed to remain here, courting further disgrace. I will not let a girl who does not have the sense to keep her legs closed associate with children of mine.’ She released Priss’s head with a jerk that cracked her neck.

And then Veronica was smiling again. ‘Come, my dear. We will go to Bond Street and buy you a trousseau.’