Читать книгу Regency Betrayal - Julia Justiss - Страница 16

Max stalked from Lady Denby’s sitting room towards the library, anger, outrage and frustration churning in his gut. Encountering one of the guests in the hallway, avid curiosity in his eyes, Max gave him such a thunderous glare, the man pivoted without speaking and fled in the opposite direction.

Stomping into his haven, he went straight to the brandy decanter, poured and downed a glass, then poured another, welcoming the burn of the liquor down his throat.

What a calamity of a day.

Throwing himself into one of the wing chairs by the fire, he wondered despairingly how everything could have gone so wrong. It seemed impossible that, just a few bare hours ago, he’d halted on the threshold of the conservatory and breathed deeply of the fragrant air, his spirits rising on its scented promise that life was going to get better.

Instead, events had taken a turn that could end up anywhere from worse to disastrous.

Reviewing the scene in the glasshouse, he swore again. Hadn’t Vienna taught him not to embroil himself in the problems of females wholly unrelated to him? Apparently not, for though, unlike Madame Lefevre, he acquitted the Denby girl of deliberately drawing him into this fiasco, by watching over her he’d been dragged in anyway.

And might very well be forced into wedding a lady with whom, by her own admission, he had virtually nothing in common.

True, Miss Denby had turned down his offer. But he placed no reliance on her continuing to do so, once her stepmother brought home to her just how difficult her situation would be if they didn’t marry.

His wouldn’t be as dire, but the resulting scandal certainly wouldn’t be helpful. With a sardonic curl of his lip, he recalled Miss Denby’s blithe assumption that since he already had a reputation as a rake, the scandal wouldn’t affect him at all. He’d been on the point of explaining that, even for a rake, there were limits to acceptable behaviour and ruining a young lady of quality went rather beyond them.

But if the danger to her own reputation wasn’t enough to convince her, he wasn’t about to whine to her about the damage not wedding her would do to his own.

There might be some small benefit to be squeezed from disaster: if he were thought to be a heartless seducer, he’d no longer be a target for the schemes of matchmaking mamas and their devious daughters. However, for someone about to go hat in hand looking for a government posting, the timing couldn’t be worse. Being branded as a man unable to regulate his behaviour around women certainly wouldn’t help his chances of finding a sponsor … or winning back Wellington’s favour.

He seized his empty glass and threw it into the fireplace.

He was still brooding over what to do when Alastair came in.

‘Devil’s teeth, Max, what fandango occurred while I was out today? Even the grooms are buzzing with it—some crazy tale of you trying to ravish some chit in the conservatory?’

Max debated telling Alastair the truth, but his hot-headed cousin would probably head out straight away to track down Henshaw and challenge him to a duel, pressing the issue until the man was forced to face him or leave the country in disgrace.

Of course, being an excellent shot as well as a superior swordsman, if Alastair prevailed upon Henshaw to meet him, his cousin would kill the weasel for certain—and then he’d be forced to leave England.

He’d complicated his own life sufficiently; he didn’t intend to ruin Alastair’s as well.

‘I … got a bit carried away. Lady Melross and her crony came running in before I could set the young lady to rights.’

Alastair studied his face. ‘I heard the chit’s bodice was torn to her bosom, the buttons of her pelisse scattered all over the floor. Devil take it, Max, don’t try to gammon me. You’ve infinitely more finesse than that … and if you wanted a woman, you wouldn’t have to rip her out of her gown—in a public place, no less!’

Wishing he hadn’t tossed away his perfectly good glass, Max rummaged for one on the sideboard and poured himself another brandy. ‘I’m really not at liberty to say any more.’

‘Damn and blast, you can’t think I’d believe that Banbury tale! Did the Denby chit deliberately try to trap you? Dammit, I liked her! Surely you’re not going to let her get away with this!’

‘If by “getting away with it”, you mean forcing me to marry her, you’re out there. I made her an offer, as any gentleman of honour would in such a situation, but thus far, she’s refused it.’

Alastair stared at him for a long moment, then poured himself a brandy. ‘This whole story,’ he said, downing a large swallow, ‘makes no sense at all.’

‘With that, I can agree,’ Max said.

Suddenly, Alastair threw back his head and laughed. ‘Won’t need to worry about the Melross hag blackening your character in town. After bringing her party to such a scandalous conclusion, Jane’s going to murder you.’

‘Maybe I’ll hand her the pistol,’ Max muttered.

‘To women!’ Alastair held up his glass before tossing down the rest of the brandy. ‘One of the greatest scourges on the face of the earth. I don’t know what in hell happened today in the conservatory and, if you don’t want to tell me, that’s an end to it. But I do know you’d never do anything to harm a female and I’ll stand beside you, no matter what lies that dragon Melross and her pack of seditious gossips spread.’

Suddenly a wave of weariness come over Max … as it had in the wake of the Vienna disaster, when he’d wandered back to his rooms, numbed by shock, disbelief and a sense of incredulity that things could possibly have turned out so badly when he’d done nothing wrong. ‘Thank you,’ he said, setting down his glass.

Alastair poured them both another. ‘Ransleigh Rogues,’ he said, touching his glass to Max’s.

Before Max could take another sip, a footman entered, handing him a note written on Barton Abbey stationery. A flash of foreboding filled him—had Miss Denby already reconsidered?

But when he broke the seal, he discovered the note came from Lady Denby.

After thanking him for his offer to apologise and his assurance that he stood by his proposal to marry her stepdaughter, since Miss Denby informed her she had no intention of accepting him, there was really nothing else to be said. As both Miss Denby and her own daughter were most anxious to depart as soon as possible, she intended to leave immediately, but reserved the privilege of writing to him again when she’d had more opportunity to Sort Matters Out, at which time she trusted he would still be willing, as a Man of Honour, to Do The Right Thing.

An almost euphoric sense of relief filled Max. Apparently Lady Denby hadn’t managed to convince her stepdaughter to ‘Do the Right Thing’ before leaving Barton Abbey. With Miss Denby about to get everything she wanted—a return to her beloved Denby Lodge and a ruination that would allow her to wait in peace for the return of her Harry—Max was nearly certain no amount of Sorting Things Out later would convince Miss Denby to reconsider.

He’d remain a free man after all.

The misery of the day lightened just a trifle. Now he must concentrate on trying to limit the damage to his prospects of a career.

‘Good news?’ Alastair asked.

Max grinned at him. ‘The best. It appears I will not have to get leg-shackled after all. Amazingly, Miss Denby has resisted her stepmother’s attempts to convince her to marry me.’

Alastair whistled. ‘Amazing indeed! She must be dicked in the nob to discard a foolproof hand for forcing the Magnificent Max Ransleigh into marriage, but no matter.’

‘There’s an army sweetheart she’s waiting to marry.’

‘Better him than you,’ Alastair said as he refilled their glasses. ‘Here’s to Miss Denby’s resistance and remaining unwed!’

‘Add a government position to that and I’ll be a happy man.’

Max knew the worst wasn’t over yet. Whispers about the scandal in the conservatory would doubtless have raced through the rest of the company like a wildfire through parched grass. At some point, Aunt Grace would summon him in response to the note he’d sent her, wanting to know why he’d created such an uproar at her house party.

The two cousins remained barricaded in the library, from which stronghold they occasionally heard the thumps and bangs of footmen descending the stairs with the baggage of departing guests. But as the hour grew later without his aunt summoning him, Max guessed that some guests had chosen to remain another night, doubtless eager to grill their hostess for every detail over dinner, embarrassing Felicity, making Jane simmer and contemplate murder.

Alastair, ever loyal, kept him company, playing a few desultory hands of cards after he’d declined the offer of billiards. He wasn’t sure he’d trust himself with a cue in hand without trying to break it over someone’s head.

Probably his own.

So it was nearly midnight when a footman bowed himself in to tell him Mrs Ransleigh begged the indulgence of a few words with him in her sitting room.

Max swallowed hard. Now he must face the lady who’d stood by him, disparaging his father’s conduct and insisting he deserved better. And just like Vienna, though all he had done was assist a woman in distress, this time he’d ended up miring not just himself, but also his aunt, in embarrassment and scandal.

He’d not whined to Miss Denby about the black mark that would be left on his character by her refusal to wed; he wasn’t going to make excuses to his aunt, either. Girding himself to endure anger and recriminations, he crossed the room.

Alastair, who knew only too well what he’d face, gave him an encouraging slap on the shoulder as he walked by.

He found his aunt reclining on her couch in a dressing gown, eyes closed. She sat up with a start as the footman announced him, her eyes shadowed with fatigue, filling with tears as he approached.

His chest tightening, he felt about as miserable as he’d ever felt in his life. Rather than cause his aunt pain, he almost wished he’d fallen with the valiant at Hougoumont.

‘Aunt Grace,’ he murmured, kissing her outstretched fingers. ‘I am so sorry.’

But instead of the reproaches he’d steeled himself to endure, she pushed herself from her seat and enveloped him in a hug. ‘Oh, my poor Max, under which unlucky star were you born that such trouble has come into your life?’

Hugging her back, he muttered. ‘Lord knows. If I were one of the ancients, I’d think I’d somehow offended Aphrodite.’

‘Come, sit by me,’ she said, patting the sofa beside her.

Heartened by her unexpectedly sympathetic reception, he took a seat. ‘I’d been prepared to have you abuse my character and order me from the house. I cannot imagine why you have not, after I’ve unleashed such a sordid scandal at your house party.’

‘I imagine Anita Melross was delighted,’ she said drily. ‘She will doubtless dine out for weeks on the story of how she found you in the conservatory. Dreadful woman! How infuriating that she is so well connected, one cannot simply cut her. But enough about Anita. Oh, Max, what are we to do now?’

‘There isn’t much that can be done. Lady Melross and her minions will have already set the gossip mill in motion, thoroughly shredding my character. Frankly, I expected you to take part in the process.’

‘Frankly, I might have,’ his aunt retorted, ‘had Miss Denby not insisted upon speaking with me before she left.’

Surprise rendered him momentarily speechless. ‘Miss Denby spoke with you?’ he echoed an instant later.

‘I must admit, I was so angry with both of you, I had no desire whatsoever to listen to any excuses she wished to offer. But she was quite adamant.’ His aunt laughed. ‘Indeed, she told Wendell she would not quit the passage outside my chamber until she was permitted to see me. I’m so glad now that she persisted, for she confessed the whole to me—something I expect that you, my dear Max, would not have done.’

‘She … told you everything?’ Max asked, that news surprising him even more than his aunt’s unexpected sympathy.

His aunt nodded. ‘How Mr Henshaw made her an offer, so insistent upon her acceptance he was ready to attack her to force it! I was never so distressed!’ she cried, putting a hand on her chest. ‘Is there truly no way to lay the blame for that shocking attack where it belongs, at Henshaw’s feet?’

‘If Miss Denby disclosed the whole of what happened, you must see that there is virtually no chance we could fix the responsibility on him.’

‘Poor child! I feel wretched that someone I invited into my home would take such unspeakable liberties! With her shyness and lack of polish, she would never have found much success in the Marriage Mart, but to have her ruined by that … that infamous blackguard! And then, to have you wrongfully accused for her disgrace! ‘Tis monstrous, all of it!’

Max sat back, his emotions in turmoil. Though he hadn’t truly blamed Miss Denby for what had happened, he’d resented the fact that, at the end of it all, she had got what she wanted, while he was left a position that made obtaining his goal much more difficult.

Still, he could work relentlessly until he achieved what he wanted; her ruination couldn’t be undone. It had taken courage to insist on braving the contempt of her hostess so she might explain what had really transpired, thereby exonerating him to a woman whose good opinion she must know he treasured.

In refusing to allow herself to be forced into something she did not want, regardless of the personal cost, and in remaining steadfastly loyal to her childhood love, she’d displayed a sense of honour as unshakeable as his own. He couldn’t help admiring that.

‘I hardly expected her to tell you the truth … but I’m glad she did,’ he said at last.

‘Oh, Max, you would have said nothing and simply shouldered all the blame, would you not?’ she asked, seizing his hands.

He shrugged. ‘With Henshaw showing himself too dishonourable to admit to his actions, I don’t see how I could avoid it. There was no point making accusations we have no way of proving.’

‘Are you certain that’s the right course? It seems monstrous that you both must suffer, while the guilty party escapes all blame!’

‘We’ll have to endure it, at least for the present. I intend to quietly search for evidence that might incriminate Henshaw, but I’m not hopeful anything useful will turn up. In the interim, I’d rather Alastair not learn the truth. He’s already suspicious of Lady Melross’s story. If he were to find out what really happened, he might go after Henshaw and—’

‘—tear him limb from limb, or something equally rash,’ Mrs Ransleigh finished for him. ‘Although it will chafe him to be kept in the dark, I appreciate your doing it. Ever since … That Woman, he’s been so reckless and bitter. Even after all those years in the army, he’s still spoiling for a fight, still heedless of the consequences.’

‘It shall remain our secret, then.’

She sighed. ‘If there is any way I might be of assistance, let me know. I can think of little that would give me more pleasure than being able to show up Anita Melross for the idle, malicious gossip she is.’

‘If the opportunity arises, I will certainly call on your help. By the way … did Miss Denby also tell you I’d asked for her hand and she’d refused me?’

‘She did. Bless the child, she even said that after you had been everything that was gentlemanly, preventing Henshaw from ravishing her and comforting her afterwards, she simply could not repay your kindness by shackling you to a girl you didn’t want. She insisted you must remain free to take a wife of your own choosing, who would be the suitable hostess and companion to a man in high position that she could never be.’

Max smiled, his spirits lightened by the first glimmer of amusement he’d felt since Lady Melross burst into the conservatory. ‘Difficult to be angry with someone who rejects you with such glowing compliments.’

‘And such absolute sincerity! It was the longest and most eloquent speech I’ve got from her since her arrival. Perhaps she isn’t quite as hopeless as I’d thought.’

Max resisted the impulse to defend Miss Denby. How well she’d cultivated the image of an awkward, ill-spoken spinster! If only his aunt could have seen her, fierce determination in her eyes as she’d vividly described her world at Denby Lodge.

She’d been quite magnificent. Even had he wished to wed her, he would have felt compelled to let her go.

‘I must say, I was relieved to discover she has an army beau who will marry her when he returns,’ Mrs Ransleigh continued. ‘Having been the unwitting instrument of her disgrace, it makes me feel a bit better to know she won’t be condemned for ever to live without the care and protection of a good man.’

Max nodded. ‘That’s the only reason I didn’t push her harder to marry me. Not that I’d ever force myself on a woman.’

‘Of course you would not. Well, I’m off to bed. Calamities such as the events that transpired today exhaust me! But I did not wish to sleep before telling you I knew everything, lest you take it in your head to lope off somewhere in the night, still believing I thought ill of you.’

‘I’m so glad you do not. And I’ve no plans to take myself off as yet.’

‘Stay as long as you like,’ his aunt said as she offered him her cheek to kiss. ‘By the way, I should like to reveal the truth to Jane. She is perfectly discreet and, as she is now quite an influential hostess in London, she might find the means to be of some help.’

‘Miss Denby already mentioned that Lady Denby hoped to enlist you and Jane in defending her stepsister; I’d appreciate anything you might do to assist Miss Denby as well. Of all the unwilling participants in this débâcle, she is the one who loses the most.’

Mrs Ransleigh nodded. ‘We will certainly give it our best efforts.’

‘I’ll leave you to your slumber, then. Thank you, Aunt Grace. For still believing in me.’

‘You’re quite welcome,’ she replied with a smile. ‘You might want to thank Miss Denby, too, for believing in you as well.’

Bidding her goodnight, Max walked out. Though he hadn’t yet worked out how he was going to work around this check to his governmental aspirations, he felt immeasurably better to know that he had not, after all, disappointed and alienated his aunt.

That happy outcome he owed to Miss Denby. He found her courage in risking censure to defend him to his family as amazing as her fortitude in refusing a convenient marriage.

Aunt Grace was right. He did owe her thanks. But given the disastrous events that seemed to happen when she came near him, he didn’t think he’d risk delivering it in person any time soon.