Sacrifice (Fashionably Impure Book 3) (17 page)

But to
go where?

Chapter Twelve

With her thoughts seething and needing to hear some
answers, Miranda returned to Cassandra’s townhouse.

The older woman sat huddled in her chair, her face
drawn as though with pain, her servant hovering over her, spoon-feeding her as
though she were much older then dosing her with opiate. Miranda waited through
all of this with mixed emotions tearing her apart inside.

Finally, the servant left and she was alone with her
aunt and Miranda confronted her with all that Heathford had revealed to her.

“I can’t believe that you turned me over to that
animal,” Miranda said and glared at Cassandra.

Cassandra shrugged. “I saw an opportunity to secure
your future.”

Anger
and revulsion seethed through Miranda. How dare Cassandra be so
self-congratulatory for what she had done for her when the emotional price had
been so dear. The scars on Miranda’s soul were there, even if she did her best
to ignore them on a daily basis. Even if she pretended to be made of stone, she
was only flesh and blood. Only human. Cassandra had used her like a thing. Like
a doll, who did not feel or bleed.

“But to collude with Winterton! To allow him to
witness my shame!” Nausea twisted through her and she put a hand over her belly
whilst taking a deep, ragged breath. She was going to go home and drink brandy.
She was going to get drunk and numb herself on brandy until she buried the
horror of knowing that Winterton had been there.

Winterton had been there and found pleasure in her
fright, her suffering.

It was almost
worse
than the original
suffering had been, if that were even possible. Or did she only believe that
because she had for so long not allowed herself to think on that night?

She had suppressed those memories so long that they had
become dull. She had become numb and cold.

But now the memories were slicing into her with
brutal clarity.

No, the knowing that Winterton was there was not
worse than actually living through that horror. It was just reawakening her
feelings about what had happened.

But to know that Cassandra had known all about
Heathford’s sadistic tastes and still led her like a sheep to the slaughter?

Impossible to accept.

Impossible to forgive.

 
“I wanted you
to be able to retire with security. I didn’t want to see you forced to work
into your late middle years, trying to fight against time and to stretch your
fading looks.”

Cassandra was, of course, describing herself in the
past few years. But Cassandra had expensive tastes and a need for luxury.

“Perhaps, with wealth on your side, you could have
even married if you had wanted to.”

“I did marry, Cassandra.”

Cassandra shook her head. “No, not a marriage into a
disgraced, bankrupted family. I imagined you gaining much more by marriage.”

“And taking you with me into that better world?”

“Perhaps,” Cassandra said, fingering the lace trim on
her wrapper. “But that’s all over for me now.” Cassandra’s stare became fierce
and she leaned forwards. “But it is not too late for you, Miranda. You must use
your wealth properly.”

“I thought that you said I had ruined myself by
marrying Adrian and that there is no longer any hope for me.”

Cassandra looked aghast then she laughed, softly.
“Oh, I was just expressing my frustration with the situation. But it is
fixable. My dear, your brave action and ability to sway those gentlemen’s
opinions to your side has changed everything.” She gaped at Miranda, admiration
in her eyes. “You always did have real fire in you.”

“They want him to leave England.”

Cassandra nodded.

“I don’t know how he’ll ever accept such a thing.”

“Then you will have to make him see the sense in it.”

“What they are asking of him is not fair.”

“We do not live in the best of all possible words,
Miranda. You’ve always had a tendency to be idealistic. You cannot allow your
idealism to get the better of you now.”

“But the shame of it.”

“There is never any shame or humiliation so great
that you ought to allow it to hamper you getting what you need, what will
benefit you.”

“Is that how you really see life?” Miranda said. This
was what Adrian saw in Cassandra and despised.

It was hard for her. Having experienced the
powerlessness of being the child of a kept woman. Having witnessed first hand
the luxury that a nobleman’s favor brought mama and herself and how easily he
had ripped that away…Yes, she could easily understand Cassandra’s side.

But to reconcile the extremes that Cassandra had gone
to in order to raise Miranda up, to build wealth for her future? That she had a
harder time understanding. She could easily see Adrian’s side. Cassandra was a
mercenary, greed-driven woman who held little compunction.

Miranda knew that many courtesans held this view.

Miranda had worked hard to survive, to earn a measure
of comfort and security for herself and mama. So maybe she did hold this same view
of life.

But only to a degree.

Adrian was wrong to fear that she shared the depth of
Cassandra’s greed for luxury.
Was that really what he feared?

Or did he fear that Miranda would in time be just as
unfaithful and jaded to that infidelity as Jane Sutherland?

“What’s wrong, Miranda?” Cassandra asked with her
voice slurring as her medications took effect.

“I have wronged someone. Deeply. I didn’t intend for
it to be a wrong.”

“This is about Danvers?”

Miranda nodded.

“Well, my dear, it really doesn’t matter what you
thought or didn’t think.” Cassandra raised her thinning brows. “You’ve entered
into a marriage based on love. Something I certainly never had the courage to
attempt. And you’ve selected a nobleman. They have been raised differently than
the common breed of men and as a result they have odd notions. Best to humble
yourself, admit all wrong and beg his forgiveness.”

“But I didn’t mean to do any wrong. I had the best of
intentions.”

“Miranda, you’ve always been a proud girl. Being
Winterton’s child, I don’t suppose there was any chance you would come out any
other way. But if you love this impoverished, overly arrogant nobleman that
you’ve selected, then you must love him in the way he needs to be loved. Not
the way you imagine would be fair.”

 
Miranda’s
face flushed hotly for she was uncomfortable and not a little indignantly angry
about being so closely examined and by one who surely had no right to judge her
at all. She made a great matter of adjusting her gloves. “I did not come here
solely to accuse you. I wondered if you needed anything for your comfort.”

The bond of blood and that former gratitude. Some
feelings died hard, even if it was illogical to her mind. Even if it warred
mightily with her anger and desire to walk away and never return. For so long
life had offered her nothing but confusion.

And pain.

Now she had driven Adrian away from her. His love,
tenderness and compassion had been her only solace. Her only guiding light in
this world of darkness and confusion.

“Do not distract from the topic, girl. Yes, I
understand that there is a good measure of self-protection in hiding behind a
wall of pride. And it certainly gives a woman an air of mystery and
unattainability that adds to her allure—but what benefits a courtesan may well
run contrary to a wife’s best interests.” Cassandra’s gaze narrowed,
thoughtfully. “We all have our sins. You think I was greedy and callous to take
the opportunity that Winterton gave us?”

“I think that what you did, to a drunken
eighteen-year-old virgin, the son of your protector, a man who was in love with
you, was beyond any shred of human decency,” Miranda said, coldly. “But you
were the only one to help me and Mama when he turned us out. I cannot in good
conscience shun you in your dying days.”

“You may be correct. Perhaps I shall burn in hell for
all eternity for what I did. We all have our weaknesses, our blindness. We all
have to make decisions in life. And you are no different. If my sin is greed
and advice, then yours is surely pride.” Cassandra leaned forwards again, her
voice becoming more insistent. “Go home and apologize to your lord. Beg his
forgiveness.”

“I did nothing wrong.”

“Yet, he thinks that you did.”

Miranda stood. “I must go.”

“Suit yourself, Miranda, be a fool. It does not
matter to me. I’ve done what I can for you. I am done with this world and its
intrigues.” Cassandra leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes.

****

“You’ve been silent.”

Jon’s words were a most unwelcome interruption.
Adrian had been listening to the roll of the carriage and feeling the motion of
the vehicle and allowing those sensations to lull his body into numbness.

“I have much to think on,” Adrian replied with an
edge of vexation he hoped would discourage any further inquiries. He couldn’t
stop replaying the Duke of Heathford’s words in his mind, trying to discern
what was truth and what was not.

“I’d think a man who had just been given a complete
reprieve would be more grateful with the world. At the very least, I wouldn’t
expect this hostility towards me, your cousin. I am on your side in this,
remember?”

Adrian scowled at him. “It’s not a real reprieve.
I’ve been ordered to leave England, remember?”

“That’s not a legally valid mandate. You could ignore
it.”

“No, it is not legally valid. But if I do ignore it,
will they then decide to charge me with murder? Will Winterton’s allies find
witnesses who will lie?” Until this evening, he had been convinced that he
could find justice, if only he believed in the decency of his fellow peers.
Now, having looked into Heathford’s eyes, glowing with evil pleasure as he had
related every aspect of his one night with Miranda, years ago. And then with
icy murderous hate in his eyes, he confessed to how he had despised Adrian’s
father and how he would do anything for his revenge.

Heathford made plain that Miranda had displayed her
full, salacious skills upon the most influential men in the House of Lords and
that the charges would be dropped, specifically due to her actions, her ability
to please those noblemen and draw their sympathy to herself. Heathford made
clear that he was not happy with that particular turn of events.

Adrian wondered at the depth of corruption in his
peers. His father, Winterton, Heathford—good God, that sampling was not much to
inspire confidence that he could receive a fair trial in the shadow of his
father’s many sins.

For himself, Adrian would risk anything, stand up to
anything. But his life did not involve just himself.

“I can’t risk a trial. I have an heir. I cannot risk
losing the title. I must make this sacrifice for Brentwood’s sake.” Adrian
sighed. “And perhaps it is best that Miranda and I do go away. The scandal of
our marriage, the scandal of her father’s death… these things will only grow in
proportion as long as we are in society’s view.”

“So, this is something you have considered all
along?”

“No, not seriously. Not until tonight.” Adrian
seethed inside and suddenly he could hold back no longer. Here, alone with this
one close male relative that he trusted, he allowed himself to admit what was
eating so viciously at his gut. “What the hell did she do to convince them to
drop their investigation?”

“The investigation is not completely dropped.”

“It will be when the vote is taken tomorrow.”

“What do you imagine that she did?”

“I don’t need to imagine, Heathford told me.”

“Heathford is an unreliable source.”

“Why would she even place herself in that position?”

“You’ll have to ask her.” Jon frowned. “But don’t be
a prig about this, Adrian.”

“What devil does that mean?”

“No matter what she has done, remember, she was
terrified for you. If you really love her, you can extend leniency in this
case.”

“You make me sound like a monster. Of course, I
understand that she was motivated by fear for me. I do not accuse her. But dear
God, if this is true, how will I ever forget?”

“You must forget, for her sake.”

“What if she were yours?”

“She’s not. I am not the one who married a former
courtesan.”

“What the devil?” Adrian could barely keep from
snarling at his cousin’s impertinence.

“You wed a former courtesan and now you complain that
she’s no better than she ought to be?” Ruel scoffed and waved a dismissive
hand. “If you weren’t in such a weakened condition, I would stop this carriage,
drag you out side and thrash your stubborn hide.”

“By God, I’d like to see you try,” Adrian replied in
a grumbling tone as he shifted on the seat.

 
“Adrian, just
for a moment, try and think of more than just your bruised pride. If she used
the skills learned in her former life, it is because that is all she has known.
It was the only value she had to use in order to beg clemency for you.”

“You sound like you approve.”

“Because I do. I used and exhausted every measure of
influence at my disposal. No matter what she did to bring about your release, I
am damned grateful to her.” Jon fixed him with a look. “And you should be too.”

“Grateful?”

“Aye, grateful that she loves your worthless arse.”

“What has brought this sudden animosity towards me?”

“Because you are acting like a spoiled boy. She saved
your arse. Maybe you’ll never know for sure what she did to make that happen.
If you love her, it won’t matter in the long-term. Show her some gratitude.”

“It’s not just this,” Adrian said, tersely.