Regency 09 - Redemption (15 page)

When a tearful Lady
Guinevere informed Miles that her sister was in trouble and it was
his brother’s fault, his heart plummeted.

It was Belinda Markwell all
over again—only much, much worse.

He had hoped Dare had
learned from that experience and gained wisdom in his dealings with
the fair sex. Apparently, he hadn’t.

After receiving reassurance
that Lady Genevieve would never resort to suicide, Miles relaxed
somewhat. He was even slightly amused by Gwen’s vehemence on the
subject.

And now, with Gwen having
returned to her home, Miles had time to contemplate exactly what
such scandal would mean for their families. He was positive the
duke’s family would survive; such was the way of the titled
elite.

It was Adam who would
suffer the brunt. This latest gossip added to what still surrounded
Bri would make their acceptance in Society exactly nil.

He scoffed at his own
musings. It wasn’t as if Adam or Bri would care. They’d courted
scandal for years.

Still,
Miles had his mother and father to think about as well. While they
were not in the habit of even visiting London, much less
attending
ton
events, he was quite sure they wouldn’t appreciate having the
choice taken from them. Who would?

The real fear was what it
would do to the relations between Adam’s and the duke’s families.
Denbigh had practically raised Adam, who had spent holidays there
when he and Connor were down from school. It was Denbigh who’d
bought a commission for Adam in Wellington’s army and Denbigh who’d
been proud of all the baronet had accomplished. Denbigh was like a
father to Adam.

But this, Adam’s cousin
having taken the innocence of one of Denbigh’s daughters, just
might make their past relationship precarious. And Miles knew Lord
Connor would hold Adam somewhat responsible for what Dare had done.
How could he not?

But what could be done? The
girl needed a husband and quickly. Dare was not available to be
prevailed upon—and despite all that had occurred, Miles was quite
sure his brother would not hesitate to rescue her.

Jenny was nothing like
Belinda, after all, Miles reflected wryly. His fingers idly
caressed the inkwell on his desk. Miles had not known at the time
that Belinda had had a penchant for loose behavior but he’d learned
not long after her body was discovered, poisoned. It had been ruled
a suicide but Miles had his suspicions. The girl had been pregnant,
something that was not conducive to her particular activities.
Miles was sure she had tried to abort the baby and had
miscalculated the strength of the drug she’d taken.

But none of that was too
the point. Jenny would never do such a thing and Gwen assured him
she was determined to raise her child herself. Which left only one
option.

Acting decisively, as was
his wont, Miles Prestwich rose and shrugged into his coat. Five
minutes later, he was on his way to visit the Duke of
Denbigh.

The duke actually agreed to
speak with Miles, an unlooked-for compliment to the young man,
under the circumstances.

Miles was not surprised by
Lord Denbigh’s stony expression nor was he altogether taken unaware
when he was told curtly to state his reason for being
there.

Miles refrained from asking
for a seat. He was there to make amends, not beg forgiveness on
behalf of his brother.

“I have been made aware of
Lady Genevieve’s situation, your grace,” he said without any
roundaboutation.

The duke’s raised eyebrow
was his only answer.

With an inward sigh, he
continued, “If it is agreeable to you, your grace, I’d like to try
to make amends.”

“And how, young man, could
you possibly do that?”

“I will marry her, give her
child a name and, hopefully, avert the worst of the
scandal.”

His grace’s face underwent
a series of emotions so quickly that Miles couldn’t name one before
it was promptly replaced with another.

The duke finally settled on
incredulity. “You would do that? Why?”

“My family’s honor is at
stake here, too, your grace,” he said simply.

A sneer twisted Lord
Denbigh’s lips. “Snagging a duke’s daughter, even a ruined one,
would be quite a coup for you.”

Miles maintained an icy
dignity although he was tempted to sneer right back. “Would you
rather have a fortune-hunter or a Cit as a son-in-law? I, at least,
offer a genteel background and enough income to live in
comfort.”

“My daughter says she will
not marry.”

Miles frowned. “She would
choose to live the life of a fallen woman, ruined with a bastard
child, instead of marrying a worthy gentleman who only wants to
help salvage some of the damage wrought?”

“You will have to ask her
that yourself.” Denbigh studied the young man for several long
moments before adding dismissively, “You will find Jenny in the
morning room.”

The announcement in the
morning papers rocked London. Everyone was agog over the news that
the hitherto ruined Lady Genevieve Northwicke had gone and trapped
herself a husband.

It was mentioned in more
than one home, over steaming morning chocolate and toast, that
dukes ever were a law unto themselves. It was only natural that
Daddy Denbigh would buy his despoiled child a way out of her
shame.

Slightly more intriguing
was the choice of bridegroom. None other than the twin brother of
the very man whispered to have ruined the girl. Many a footman
overheard the remark that it was only fitting, under the
circumstances.

Jenny read the announcement
with a sense of doom. How could she have actually agreed to marry
the brother of the man she loved? The very man she strongly
suspected held her own twin sister’s heart?

Suddenly clamping a hand to
her mouth, Jenny slid to the edge of her bed in search of the
chamber pot. It was normal for her to feel queasy in the morning
but never had she actually emptied her already painfully empty
stomach.

She rinsed her mouth and
leaned back, wiping her lips with her handkerchief.

It was a stupid plan, she
admitted ruefully. She had only agreed to marry Miles because she
hoped that Dare would see the notice and come haring back to claim
her himself. It was selfish and immature to use him so and Gwen was
being hurt in the process.

Oh, would she never
learn?

It worked.

Unfortunately, not quite
the way she had planned.

Dare did, indeed, come
haring home just as soon as he received word of his brother’s
impending nuptials…to none other than the woman he, not Miles,
loved.

Dare couldn’t stop himself
from hying back to London, determined to find answers.

Questions plagued him as he
urged his hired nag to greater speeds. Had Jenny’s family
discovered their little… indiscretion? Had she told them, or
perhaps her sister had?—It never even occurred to him that she
might not have told her twin. Had Miles felt obligated, as his
brother, to right the wrong he’d done the lady?

And not once in his
disturbed imaginings, did he ever consider that she was
pregnant.

West opened the door at the
knock and almost closed it again when he realized who it
was.

Dare would have laughed had
he not been so shocked to see the look of outrage on the
imperturbably butler’s august countenance. As it was, he barely had
enough time to stick his foot in the door.

“West, I came as soon as I
could. Please let me pass.”

West held his ground for a
second before saying peevishly, “I shouldn’t let you by, Master
Dare, knowing what you did. I should have the footmen throw you in
the Serpentine.”

“Yes, you should, West,”
Dare agreed wholeheartedly.

Then he waited.

West sighed and opened the
door. “I would welcome you, Master Dare, but I’m afraid you are
not.”

“Understandable, my good
man. Now, do you take these”—holding out his riding crop, coat,
hat, and gloves—“or do I make do for myself?”

“I should refuse to assist
you,” the butler grumbled, “but I find myself unable to do so.” He
took Dare’s things from him and disappeared into the furthest
recesses of the house.