Читать книгу An Earl To Save Her Reputation - Laura Martin, Laura Martin - Страница 10

Chapter Two

‘I really wouldn’t read that, my dear,’ Mr Tenby, Anna’s kindly uncle, said, a look of concern in his eyes.

Anna’s hand stilled on top of the folded gossip sheets. She’d hoped the news from the Prendersons’ ball would not be reported for another couple of days. It was a miracle how quickly they seemed to be able to publish the latest intrigue and style faux pas.

‘Words cannot hurt me,’ Anna said brightly, picking up the paper and scanning the text, trying to ignore the concerned looks coming across the breakfast table from her uncle and her cousin Beatrice.

‘“Congratulations are due to Lady Fortescue on her engagement to Lord Edgerton at Lord and Lady Prenderson’s ball two days ago. Recently out of mourning for her third husband, Lady Fortescue will no doubt be keen to legalise her tie to one of London’s most eligible bachelors.”’

Anna read the offending paragraph out loud, wondering how many other people were doing the same thing at breakfast tables across London.

‘What did happen, Anna?’ Beatrice asked.

Ever since the Prenderson ball Anna had kept herself distant from the rest of the household and steadfastly refused any visitors. Even her sweet younger cousin had been kept in the dark.

‘A misunderstanding, nothing more.’

‘This Edgerton chap has called on you twice,’ Mr Tenby said. ‘Seems keen to see you.’

‘He was merely trying to save an impossible situation.’

‘Decent young man by all accounts.’

‘Uncle,’ Anna said kindly, ‘I do not care if he takes in waifs and strays off the streets and gives half his income to the poor, I will never marry again.’

‘He’s very handsome, in a rugged sort of way,’ Beatrice said.

Anna supposed he had been handsome. Sparkling blue eyes contrasting with hair so dark it was almost black, and a toned and muscular physique. She could see why he was dubbed one of London’s most eligible bachelors even without the title and the income that went with it.

‘He could look like a wild boar for all that it matters,’ Anna said.

‘And he proposed to you to save you from scandal. He’s clearly a gentleman of honour,’ Beatrice said, her voice dreamy and distant.

Remembering what it was like to be eighteen and innocent, Anna ignored this last statement entirely, biting back the retort that was on her tongue.

‘Anna dear, you know you will always have a home here with me,’ her uncle said, ‘no matter what happens with your settlement from Lord Fortescue. I enjoy your company and dare say will even more so when my little Beatrice has left for a life with a husband of her own.’ Mr Tenby paused, as if considering whether to say more. ‘But more than your company, I wish for your happiness. One day you may want to marry again. You’re still young, you may want children, a home of your own. Don’t rule out anything yet.’

‘Of course, Uncle.’ Anna smiled at the kindly man who had taken her in after her husband had died. Lord Fortescue had three children from his first marriage. Two brutish sons and a spiteful daughter who had turned Anna out of her home less than thirty minutes after her husband’s death. They’d taken everything, left her with nothing but the clothes she was wearing, and even now were contesting the settlements she was due from her late husband’s estate. Anna’s uncle had travelled halfway across the country when he’d heard of her plight, swept her up into his carriage and brought her back to his home. He’d reminded her that there was kindness in the world and that not everyone was cruel and selfish.

Patting her on the hand, Mr Tenby rose from his seat and made his way towards the door.

‘Whatever your feelings for this gentleman, he deserves an audience,’ he said softly, ‘even if it is just to end this engagement between you.’

‘Yes, Uncle.’

Anna knew he was right. It had been rude and cowardly to refuse to see Lord Edgerton the past two days. If he came to call on her today, she would see him briefly and clear up any misunderstanding between them.

* * *

Harry whistled as he strode up the stairs two at a time. The sun was shining and it was impossible to feel anything but positive on such a day. Today he would insist on an audience with Lady Fortescue and no one would stand in his way.

The door opened before he could raise the polished doorknocker and an elderly butler opened the door.

‘Lady Fortescue is in the music room, Lord Edgerton. She will see you directly.’

Perhaps this was going to be easier than he had anticipated.

Looking around him with interest, Harry followed the butler up the sweeping staircase to the first floor. As they climbed Harry could hear an exquisitely played piece of piano music getting louder, as if the pianist was growing in confidence with every note.

‘Lord Edgerton,’ the butler announced as he showed Harry into a sunny room. The piano music stopped abruptly and Lady Fortescue stood to greet him, her expression as inscrutable as it had been at the Prendersons’ ball.

‘A pleasure to see you again, Lady Fortescue. I do hope you have not been unwell,’ Harry said pointedly, reminding the woman who stood before him he’d tried to visit twice in the last two days. He wondered if she would lie, if she would pretend to have been stricken down with a bad chest or a headache, but instead Lady Fortescue regarded him for a few seconds before speaking.

‘I must confess I was hoping to put all this nonsense behind us,’ she said quietly.

Harry waited for her to step out from behind the piano and glide towards him before he took her hand and bent over it formally. He felt her flinch ever so slightly at his touch, but her expression did not change.

‘Please have a seat.’ She motioned to one of two upright chairs positioned a few feet apart.

‘The world thinks we are engaged,’ Harry said, getting straight to the point. Lady Fortescue’s cool grey eyes were disconcerting when she fixed them so intently on his.

‘It would seem so.’ There was no reproach in her voice, just an air of mild uninterest.

‘I suppose that is preferable to the alternative.’

‘Which is?’

‘The rumours of us being found together in a compromising position.’

Tilting her head to one side, Lady Fortescue appeared to consider this for a moment.

‘You’re probably correct,’ she conceded.

‘Forgive me for my bluntness, but you seem wildly unconcerned about the gossip attached to our names,’ Harry said.

The situation was feeling rather surreal. Normally if a man and a woman had been found in a compromising position it would be the woman who was eager to save her reputation. Gentlemen, especially titled ones, were forgiven all manner of indiscretions. Gently bred ladies were not. It was perhaps unfair, but it was the way society worked.

Harry watched Lady Fortescue carefully and detected a tiny twitch in the muscles of her forehead. It could mean anything, but he wondered if it was yet another sign that Lady Fortescue was unnaturally good at hiding her emotions.

‘Lord Edgerton,’ she said with a sigh, ‘before you met me what had you heard?’

Harry opened his mouth to answer and then closed it again. He’d heard plenty. The ballrooms and gentlemen’s clubs had been rife with rumours and speculation about Lady Fortescue and her three deceased husbands.

‘I take it from your silence the rumours were not complimentary...’ She paused, smiling to reveal a perfect set of white teeth. ‘Ever since my second husband passed away people have talked about me, not to my face, of course, but they have picked and prodded at my life as if it were nothing more than an episode for public entertainment.’

‘That cannot be pleasant.’

‘It isn’t, of course it isn’t, but I’m still here. A little gossip isn’t the worst thing in the world.’ It was the second time she’d made that statement, the second time she’d brushed off the damage unkind words could do, and Harry began to wonder what Lady Fortescue did think was the worst thing in the world.

‘A scandal can ruin lives,’ Harry said resolutely. ‘Even end lives,’ he added too quietly for Lady Fortescue to hear.

‘It depends on the person and the nature of the scandal, I suppose.’

Harry thought of his sister. She’d always been strong, vivacious, until the fateful night when her reputation had been dashed by a scoundrel of a young man and a few malicious onlookers. Before it had happened Harry would have said his sister could withstand anything; now he knew how fragile people could be.

‘I am grateful for your concern,’ Lady Fortescue said softly, the coolness of her demeanour lifting slightly. ‘You want to do the honourable thing and I’m sure any other young woman would be delighted to continue with a sham engagement until the rumours were lessened, if not forgotten.’

‘But not you?’

Every word she uttered was considered and carefully chosen, every movement precise. And every moment that passed by Harry found himself becoming more and more intrigued by the notorious Lady Fortescue.

‘People already say the worst about me—another rumour is not going to make much difference.’

Harry wasn’t so sure. Sometimes even the weakest of gossip could be turned into something hurtful and malicious.

Sitting up even straighter in her seat, Lady Fortescue fixed Harry with an assessing gaze. ‘Unless you have a reason to want to avoid the scandal.’

Of course he did. The Edgerton family name had been dragged through the dirt after his sister’s disgrace, but Harry was titled and reasonably wealthy and his reputation wouldn’t suffer overly much by being caught in a compromising position with Lady Fortescue. Especially if he married a nice, respectable young woman in a few months’ time. No, his reason for being here today wasn’t for himself or the rest of the Edgertons—in fact, he knew by embroiling himself with such a notorious widow he was opening himself up for more gossip and scandal than if he just stayed away. The real reason for him being here today was a sense of wanting to do the right thing by a young woman who might have a bad reputation, but seemed decent and vulnerable in Harry’s assessment. Perhaps he wouldn’t have been so insistent a year ago, but seeing his sister go through just such a scandal had awakened him to the hurt a woman could suffer at the hands of an unscrupulous man.

‘Not at all,’ Harry said. Lady Fortescue did not need to hear the dark, intimate Edgerton family secrets. ‘There is simply the matter of our supposed engagement to deal with.’

For the first time today Lady Fortescue smiled, her eyes sparkling with repressed humour. ‘You can throw me over, I really don’t mind.’

‘Shall I say I caught you in the arms of another man?’ Harry couldn’t help himself, he wanted to see how far he could push her before she cracked.

There was a beat of silence, then Lady Fortescue’s shoulders sagged a little, the perfect posture disappearing and with it some of the formality she exuded.

‘I’ve been rude,’ she said, her voice softer, less clipped. ‘Inexcusably so. I apologise. I suppose I’m not used to talking to people.’

The door opened before Harry could answer, the elderly butler followed closely by a young maid.

‘I thought you might like to offer your guest some tea, my lady,’ the butler said.

The maid set down a tray with two teacups, a pot, a jug of milk and a plate of crumbly biscuits before hurriedly leaving the room. The butler hesitated for a moment at the door.

‘Perhaps the gentleman will be staying for lunch?’ he asked, almost hopefully.

Lady Fortescue laughed, exuding warmth towards the elderly servant, her grey eyes glittering as she turned back to Harry.

‘I’m sure you’re far too busy.’

He inclined his head. There was always work to be done running his country estate and looking over the accounts, but he could of course have made time for lunch.

The butler left, muttering something about a proper invitation before closing the door behind him.

‘Your uncle’s butler seems very keen to have guests to wait upon.’

‘I expect my cousin, Beatrice, put him up to asking. He is completely devoted to her, probably would jump in front of a horse if she asked him to without a second’s thought.’

‘Your cousin is playing matchmaker?’

Lady Fortescue grimaced, a reaction that would have normally dented Harry’s pride, but he was quickly learning this young widow was strongly opposed to any future romantic link.

‘Forgive me for not ordering tea sooner,’ she said. ‘I am not used to entertaining guests.’

Most wives of titled gentlemen were exemplary hosts, their main role to welcome guests into a well-looked-after home, but perhaps during her mourning period Lady Fortescue had locked herself away out of devotion to her late husband and forgotten the basics of hospitality.

Harry sipped his tea, selected a biscuit and munched on it. All in all it had been a strange morning. He’d expected to come away with an engagement, at least in name, to Lady Fortescue. Instead he’d been more or less dismissed, despite the young widow’s softening in the last part of their interview.

Standing, Harry was just about to take his leave when the door opened again and the doddery butler entered.

‘A package for you, my lady.’

He’d never seen the blood drain from someone’s face as quickly as it did from Lady Fortescue’s. Quietly she thanked the butler, who placed the package on the table in front of her before leaving the room.

Her hands were shaking as she stood, an unnaturally sunny smile plastered on her face.

‘Thank you for visiting.’ Her words came out as a choked whisper, and a hand flew to her mouth as if to claw them back in.