Secrets of Surrender (3 page)

Maybe he referred to the bid itself. It was a huge amount for anyone. Perhaps he did not actually have the money to make good on this odd debt.

If he did not pay up he would be destroyed in the circles that mattered. In most circles, she suspected. Even the ones around the pits of Durham.

That reference had been an interesting comment. She wondered what Norbury had meant by it. Mr. Bradwell’s speech and manner did not mark him as that common.

“If you are not taking me to a brothel in London, where are we going?”

“I am taking you to your cousin. The county paper noted that she is in residence at her husband’s property here in Kent.”

This man continued to surprise her. Not only with this information, but also with his awareness of her cousin Alexia’s movements.

“I had not realized that she had come down from town. I wish that I had known. I might have escaped this morning and walked there.”

“It is at least an hour by carriage. You could not have walked. Nor, I suspect, could you have escaped.”

“Is she alone, do you know?”

“The paper mentioned the family coming down.”

That probably meant that Irene was with her. She would at least see her sister before…Her eyes stung and she bit her lip so hard that she tasted blood. The thought of seeing Alexia and Irene undid her as nothing else had.

“I assume that Lord Hayden is with her.” She heard her own voice break. Mr. Bradwell’s form blurred. “I pray, let us not intrude.”

“I can hardly keep you with me at an inn.”

“I do not see why not. My reputation is already totally ruined.”

“Mine is not.”

“Of course. Yes, I see. I am sorry. I do not want to bring more scandal to you. It is just that Lord Hayden has already been too kind, and I have been ungrateful in the past, and now to show up at his door with this horrible, hopeless—”

A sob snuck out, strangling her words. Then another. She bit her lip again, hard. It did not help this time.

He took her hand in his and pressed a handkerchief into her palm. His firm, dry hold branded her skin and mind. Not hurtful like Norbury. Not weak or grasping, either. Just careful and strong, and a little rough. Like that embrace on the lane.

It felt like the touch of a friend. Her wariness left her then. She finally knew for certain that she was safe.

Her composure left her too. Her rescuer made no effort to console her. He understood that nothing would change what was going to happen.

Her composure had annoyed him. Now her weeping dismayed him.

He resisted the impulse to gather her into his arms and offer comfort. He might frighten her. He knew that she still wondered about him. On the lane she had proven that he wanted her, which gave her good cause to suspect his motivations.

She continued crying. He could not take it anymore. He shoved aside the plans and moved to the place beside her. He carefully embraced her, ready to move away fast if she wanted to be alone in her misery.

She didn’t. She cried into his shoulder while he held her. He tried to ignore how aware he was of the feel of her fragile form in his arms. He bit back the false words of reassurance that wanted to spring from him. She would reject them outright, he guessed. He suspected that she would never again lie to herself about much of anything.

The carriage turned off the road. She realized that the journey was ending. She valiantly tried to swallow her tears. He called to the coachman to slow down so she would have more time.

Her composure returned before they reached the house. The embrace did not become awkward, however, and she made no attempt to break it. He held her until they rolled to a stop.

He climbed from the carriage and offered his hand.

She looked up at the house. The vertical forms of classical columns could be seen, and long blocks on either side of the central temple facade.

“It is the middle of the night. The whole household will be abed,” she said.

“There will be a servant by the door. Come now.”

She placed her hand in his. He felt a subtle roughness that surprised him, but the touch was mostly soft and warm. She stepped down. One pause, one deep inhale, and she walked with him to the door. She left her hand in his like a frightened child.

A servant eventually responded to the knock.

“This is Miss Longworth, Lady Alexia’s cousin,” Kyle explained. “Please ask Lord Hayden to receive us, if he is in residence.”

The servant ushered them to the library. Kyle took in the room’s perfect proportions. His practiced eye noted that even the wooden Doric engaged columns decorating the mahogany bookcases were true to the ancient system of measurements. Lord Hayden favored a pure classicism based on Greek rather than Roman models.

Miss Longworth refused to sit. She returned his frock coat, then paced the edges of the chamber, twisting his handkerchief in her hands.

“Will you stay while I explain, Mr. Bradwell? Please. Lord Hayden is a good man, but…I do not fear him, but after all the rest…He is not so stern as he appears, I think, but this story would strain the patience of a saint, and his love for my cousin may not spare me his worst reaction.”

Kyle had met Lord Hayden only once, and agreed the man appeared stern. However, he also knew what she meant by “all the rest,” and how it indicated that the man was not as hard as he looked. Or, as she suggested, Lord Hayden was so in love that he had put sternness aside in the case of his new wife’s relatives.

Presumably “all the rest” would now include support of the relative in question today. Miss Longworth faced utter ruin, but Kyle assumed that Lord Hayden would make sure that she did not starve in her exile from family and decent society.

“I will remain until you have explained, if you wish.”

Lord Hayden did not come down alone. His wife accompanied him. They arrived in dishabille, he in a dark blue brocade morning coat and she in a pale yellow undressing gown. A lace-edged cap covered most of her dark hair. Kyle had never met Lady Alexia but she appeared to be a kind woman of about Miss Longworth’s age. Mid-twenties, he guessed. Right now her violet-gray eyes held noticeable worry for her cousin.

Lord Hayden appeared resigned, as if he expected nothing good if he was roused from his bed by a Longworth. His sharp gaze did not miss the way Miss Longworth’s attempted escape had soiled the skirt of her dress. His attention lingered on Kyle’s face, no doubt assessing the scratches so obviously made by a woman.

The ladies embraced and Miss Longworth made introductions. Lord Hayden nodded a silent acknowledgment that the introductions had been unnecessary since he and Kyle had met before.

“Mr. Bradwell helped me to escape from a house party of Lord Norbury’s,” Miss Longworth announced.

Lord Hayden caught his wife’s eye in a meaningful glance. It was the look of a man who knew about that love affair and who had predicted the worst from the start.

“I fear,” Miss Longworth added after an awkward pause, “I fear that something very scandalous happened at that house party that will be known to the world in a few days. Mr. Bradwell brought me here because there was nowhere else to go tonight, but come the morning I ask for transportation back to Oxfordshire.”

“Exactly what happened?” Lord Hayden asked.

She told them. Bluntly. She spared herself not at all. She took full blame for her situation, which Kyle thought a bit hard. Her inclusion in a party of whores, her sale at the auction, her stupidity in misunderstanding Norbury’s affection—it was all clear, specific, and honest. Ruthlessly so.

“So, I will return to Oxfordshire tomorrow,” Miss Longworth concluded. “If I disappear completely and we cease any social connection, perhaps you will not be affected too much by the consequences of my behavior.”

“Do not be so rash,” Lady Alexia cried. “Surely it is not as bad as you say. Hayden, tell her she does not have to break with us completely. If we—”

“No, Alexia,” Miss Longworth said. “I know how it must be, and so do you. Do not force your husband to command it.”

Lady Alexia looked close to tears. Miss Longworth held her poise. Kyle bowed to them both and eased away, to make his escape from this most private of family crises.

Miss Longworth looked in his eyes. “I am sorry that I did not trust you. I am very sorry for those scratches. Thank you for your kindness.”

There was nothing to say in response, so he walked out of the library. He found Lord Hayden in his wake.

“Tell me, Bradwell—was it as sordid as she says? Or is there some hope that perhaps…” He shrugged, unable to think of what perhaps might be.

“Do you really want the truth, Lord Hayden?”

The man actually hesitated. “Yes, I suppose that I do.”

“He publicly declared her a common whore, and treated her like one, in front of a dozen men whom you see daily at your clubs. I am sincerely sorry for her, but this is one Longworth that your money and protection cannot save.”

Lord Hayden’s dark eyes flashed anger at the allusion, but his ire passed quickly. Weary acceptance took its place.

“You have my gratitude that you stepped forward to take care of her and give her protection, Bradwell. In a dining room full of gentlemen, only you acted like one.”

“Since I was the only man there who was
not
a gentleman, that should be the real scandal, don’t you think?”

Kyle walked out of the house and away from the sad notes being played inside it. The melody would turn into a dirge of mourning soon.

He strode through the cold night to the carriage. Miss Longworth’s scent lingered on his frock coat, filling his head.

After ensuring that a carriage would be ready in early morning, Lord Hayden took his leave and returned to his bed. Alexia drew Rose to a sofa and bade her to sit.

“I thank God that Mr. Bradwell stepped forward to protect you.”

“It was very decent of him. I repaid him by scratching his face.”

“You were distraught. I am sure that he understands. He appeared to.”

Yes, he understood. All of it.

She pictured him walking toward her after the auction. No man there dared challenge him once he took the first step. Not even Lord Norbury. Those drunken fools had recognized a better man when they saw one.

She remembered his careful embrace in the carriage while she wept. His strength had soothed her. She regretted that she could never call on it again. The memory of his scent and the texture of his waistcoat and shirt came back to her vividly, giving her a few more moments of peace.

Mostly she thought about his confining embrace after she ran away. She should have been terrified by his rough handling, but instead his arms had seemed like a shelter. She had pressed close to throw him off his guard, only to be thrown off hers.

It had stirred her, their closeness. For a moment she forgot to fear him, even when she saw the desire in his face and felt it against her stomach. In truth she had reacted like the whore Norbury accused her of being. An undeniable excitement had flowed through her veins. That shocked her, and led to a last, desperate attempt to get free.

“What a horror you have endured. Norbury has behaved most dishonorably toward you, and—” A sob broke through Alexia’s words. Rose’s eyes burned and she gathered Alexia into her arms.

“Please calm yourself. Norbury is a scoundrel, but let us not pretend that I was other than a fool. I always knew a future earl could not marry me. Not after what Tim did. I allowed myself to think that I was more than a bought woman to him, but I realize now that his words of love were merely part of the game.”

Alexia sniffed back her tears. “You spoke of breaking with us completely. Of being lost to me. You do not intend to—I cannot bear the thought of your being passed around, Rose. Please promise that you will at least take an allowance from us, so that you are never so desperate as to do that.”

“Have no fear of that. I have discovered that I make a very bad mistress and would be a worse courtesan. I do not request enough jewels for one thing, and my lover does not get enough pleasure for another.”

“Then will you take the money?
Finally?
”

This was an old argument. It had first been pride that made her refuse Lord Hayden’s support after Timothy’s ruin. Pride, and anger in her belief that Tim’s fall was Lord Hayden’s fault. Later, when she discovered that Lord Hayden had actually protected Timothy, pride had been replaced by chagrin and embarrassment.

“He has paid all the debts. He has protected our property in Oxfordshire. To accept more—”

“You
must.
Do not distress me so, Rose. It is bad enough that I will lose you, but must I picture you in that empty house hungry and sick?”

“I will not starve. The rents are not much, but they will keep me in bread and fuel. And I must ask your generosity on another matter instead. Irene—” The mention of her sister affected her so much that she could not go on.

“Of course she will stay with us,” Alexia soothed. “She has enjoyed her visit this last month.”

Rose had sent Irene to Alexia to keep her from knowing about the affair with Norbury. Now her sister would be the one most vulnerable to the scandal that affair would cause.

“Is she content with you?” she asked.

“Most content. She prefers town, but has also made some friends here in the county.”

“They will say things and shun her. She will hear about it all. She will hate me for this.”

“She is growing up, Rose. She is not so selfish anymore. She even apologized to Hayden for the things she said last spring. She will survive the gossip.”

Rose pictured Irene trying to survive, and that distressed her more. “Do you think there is any hope for her future now, Alexia?”

“When Hayden and his brothers treat her as one of their own, she will be spared the worst. She also has that five thousand from your brother, although now I wish that you had not told Hayden to put it into a trust for her. You could use it better, I think.”

“It is the spoils of a crime, Alexia. I could not touch it, but Irene will never know its source.”

Alexia patted her hand like a mother reassuring a child. Rose suddenly felt exhausted and soiled and sad. Wiser than six months ago, but ignorance had been heaven in comparison.