A Fallen Woman (26 page)

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Authors: Kate Harper

Tags: #romance, #love, #regency, #scandal, #regret

BOOK: A Fallen Woman
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‘They do not,’ he agreed gravely. ‘Or at least, they should
not.
If one
is holding a lady’s hand, it should only be because he likes her
very much indeed.’

Rachel’s horrified outrage veered between the earl and her
sister but Worsley definitely had the edge.
He
was a man gown and should know better
than to indulge in such… such
frippery
behavior.


So,’ Liza began again and Rachel did not have to wonder what
her next words would be. She hurried to cut her sister
off.


Liza, that is more than enough. His lordship was just… just…’
she searched her mind desperately trying to come up with a reason
why Worsley might have been holding her hand. Nothing came to
mind.


I was getting ahead of myself,’ Worsley explained. ‘As I am
sure you are aware, your sister is a precipitous creature and
insisted on asking me questions that would have been best left
until tomorrow.’ He looked across the room to Charlotte, who was
following the conversation with interest. ‘Lest premature
discussions spoil a day that should belong entirely to such a
charming bride.’

‘That is
quite all right,’ she assured him. ‘I have no objection to sharing.
Indeed, I am most interested in what it was you were asking of
dearest Rachel. She looks,’ Charlotte added, a little wickedly,
‘quite flushed.’

Rachel
bit her lip. This was dreadful! She could not believe that Worsley
had been so incredibly indelicate as to place them both in this
situation. Instead of helping her to quell Liza, he had actively
encouraged everybody in the room to imagine something of
considerable import was going on.


Now then Worsley,’ her father said, a good deal more amiably
than Rachel thought the situation warranted, ‘You have us all
intrigued.’


It was just some nonsense,’ Rachel told him firmly. ‘Really, I
do not think there is any need to discuss it further.’

This might have
silenced her father but it certainly didn’t silence the earl who
seemed determined to continue a conversation she did not wish to
have. Not now. Quite likely, not ever.


I will be blunt, if I may for I feel that I will need the
assistance of everybody in the room to bring Miss Sheridan around
to my way of thinking. I don’t know if any of you have noticed, but
she can be frightfully stubborn.’

This brought a
laugh from more than one member of her loving family.

Rachel bit her
lip and turned to look at Worsley. ‘Please. Do not say anything
further.’

He
hesitated. Charity’s high, clipped voice spoke up. ‘Whatever is
going on? I do not know what any of this means but I cannot help
but think it is an unsuitable topic for the drawing room.’ For once
Rachel fervently agreed with her sister-in-law.


Well I think his lordship wishes to marry Rachel,’ Liza said,
sticking to her earlier deduction. ‘You do, don’t you?’

Rachel
was still looking at him, willing him into silence. Denial.
Anything but the truth for the truth would certainly not serve. He
might have heeded her silent, desperate plea, too but for Charity’s
inability not to offer an opinion.


Oh for goodness sake, don’t be ridiculous Elizabeth! Of course
his lordship meant nothing of the kind. Really, child, you need to
watch your tongue. You have very little grasp of how a young lady
should behave.’

An unmistakable
glint appeared in Worsley’s grey eyes. He quirked a small smile at
her and arched a be-damned-to-you eyebrow and Rachel knew that no
power on earth would silence him now. Even so…


Please. Don’t.’

He reached out
to touch a finger to her cheek. The gesture was so tender, so
gentle that tears stung her eyes once more.


But I must,’ he murmured, before looking past her. ‘Miss Liza
is quite correct,’ he observed pleasantly. ‘I do want to marry Miss
Sheridan. The devil of it is, she won’t have me.’

There was a
small, startled silence at this declaration.

And then the
room seemed to erupt as everybody spoke at once.

 

Chapter
Ten

 

 

 

If Rachel had her way, she would never emerge from her room
again, not for love nor money. The previous evening’s tumultuous
ending had seen to that. Having fled the room, unable to cope with
importunate suitors or excitable family any further, she had shut
herself in her bedchamber and resisted all but her mother’s
attempts to speak to her. It was impossible
not
to speak to Mama, so the walls of her
hastily constructed citadel had been breached just once.

Her mother had arrived ten minutes after her daughter’s
precipitous departure, knocking gently, but not so gently that the
sound could not be heard through Rachel’s fit of weeping. She had
known who must be there but had been unable to say
anyth
ing, too
caught up in the tears to utter a single word. After a moment she
felt a gentle hand on her shoulder and had turned instinctively to
bury her face in her mother’s lap, much as she had done when she
was a child. Her mother had, very sensibly, let her cry for some
minutes before attempting to communicate, merely making soothing
noises and stroking her hair. After a time it had the same calming
influence it had always had since she was old enough to run to her
mother for comfort and the sobs tapered off into sniffs and from
there, into a semblance of coherence. Rachel was taken aback by the
force of the emotional tempest. She had not cried like that since
the night after her father and brother had found her in that dreary
bedchamber in Coventry and she had comprehended the extent of her
ruin.

After a time,
she felt a handkerchief pushed into her hand and she used it to mop
up the aftermath of excessive emotion.


I am sorry,’ she sniffed, wiping her wet face. ‘I am such a
goose.’


A wet goose,’ her mother agreed, but the tone was one of
sympathetic understanding. ‘My poor girl. You are in a
state.’

That was
certainly one way of putting it. ‘I am sorry for…’ Rachel paused,
trying to work out exactly what it was she was sorry for. She
needn’t have tried.

‘There is
no need. I find that I like Nash Guthrie very much indeed but he
did not behave very sensibly tonight. No man should propose to a
female in front of her family.’


He should not have proposed at all!’ Rachel retorted, on a
hiccup. ‘I think he must be quite mad.’

Lady Sheridan
was silent for a moment before saying, ‘I think it more likely he
is very much in love.’

‘He
cannot be. He has only been here for three days,’ Rachel replied,
suddenly weary. The crying fit had left her feeling drained. In
fact, the past three days – with the arrival of Worsley, the dance
and the wedding – had taken their toll. At that moment she wanted
nothing more than to crawl beneath the covers and sleep.


I believe he fell in love with you in London three and a half
years ago. Coming here has only reminded him of the
fact.’

Rachel
was silent for a moment, unsure what to say to that. Could it be
true? Had the earl really fallen in love with her during that hazy,
half-forgotten summer? It all seemed so long ago, more like a dream
than an actual period in her life she had lived through.


It hardly matters,’ she said drearily. ‘He cannot marry
me.’


I believe he sees the matter differently,’ her mother said,
voice careful.

Rachel looked at her with reproach. ‘Please, do not say
that I should consider his offer. As sensible as I am to the honor
he is paying me – although I really do believe he is mad! – I could
not accept. It would
ruin
him. Surely you can see that?’


I will not pretend that it would not create a scandal. It
would. There are too many people who think like Charity for it to
be otherwise. But I do believe he has thought this matter through.
He knows the consequences of his actions as well as we do. It does
not seem to trouble him in the least.’


He says that now,’ Rachel returned miserably. ‘But in a year,
or five or ten it will be a different matter. He will not want his
children tainted and it would be an inescapable occurrence if he
married me. Oh Mama, I could not bear to have him look at me as
if…’ She trailed off, unable to put into words what she knew must
be the result of this madcap scheme.


So you love him, then?’

The question gave her pause.
Did
she love Worsley? Was it really possible to fall
in love with a man in only three days? ‘I… care for him,’ she
admitted at last, knowing that to be entirely true. ‘Which is all
the more reason not to allow him to bring himself into
disrepute.’

‘I think
you underestimate the man,’ her mother said wryly. ‘More than that,
I think you cannot make decisions based on another’s heart. He is a
man who knows his own mind, Rachel. Your father and I both saw the
depths of his feelings for you in London. It is one of the reasons
we hoped that you would accept him. You did not love him then but
it was clear that you enjoyed his company.’

Rachel bit her lip. It may have been a
hazy time for her but she knew
it was true. She had been oddly comfortable in the earl’s presence.
But that had no bearing on the real issue. As seductive a thought
as it might be, that she could accept Worsley, make a life with
him, it was impossible. She had already tainted the lives of those
she loved, so much so that she had actually contemplated a wretched
life in Wales, but one could not dismiss a beloved family. Now she
had a choice and she chose to save Worsley from himself.

‘It will not do, Mama.’ She was pleased at the measure of
assurance she managed to infuse into her voice.
Despite her best intentions, she
did not feel particularly assured. ‘He may not realize it now, but
Worsley will thank me in the years to come.’

Her mother gave her a s
keptical look but did not pursue it, for which
Rachel was grateful. She felt emotionally tangled; the earl’s
decision to make an offer for her having ignited a longing within
her that she did not –
could
not – welcome.

When she was alone, lying in her bed, she allowed herself a
brief moment of imagining what the fu
ture might be like if she were Worsley’s
countess, basking in the warmth of her husband’s love. The idea of
becoming his wife, of the mysteries to be explored in the bridal
bed made her feel warm all over and it was with considerable effort
that she turned her face to the pillow and forced herself to stop
thinking about it.


I could be happy with him,’ she whispered to the darkness. ‘I
know I could.’

But could
he be happy with her? With the best will in the world, she knew his
affection must fade when faced with the continuing disapprobation
of his mother, his friends… Society itself. Worsley would be
leaving in several days. After he was gone she could resume her
life, put her newly minted feelings away in an appropriate box and
try to move on.

In time, she was sure she could forget how wondrous it was
to be desired by a man she, in turn, desired. She had thought she
had discovered that when she had believed herself in love with
Dorian Salinger but the feelings she had developed for the earl
were nothing like those she had experienced for her
disreputable
suitor. Then, she had been bedazzled by a handsome face and
a man practiced in seduction. Worsley, she knew, was real, a man
who had grown into himself over time. A man who would no doubt be
every bit as seductive as the most skilled Lothario, all the more
so because he was obviously genuine. What would it be like to be
kissed by Worsley? To be held in his arms? To be taken to
bed?

Rachel
shivered. She would never discover the answer to any of these
questions but it did not stop her from wanting to.

It took her a
long time to fall asleep that night and when she did, her dreams
haunted her.

In the
morning, determined to forge ahead with her resolution not to give
the earl any reason get his hopes up, she descended to breakfast
with a mixture of anticipation and dread. She dearly wished to see
the man she firmly intended to reject but she had her doubts about
her ability to remain aloof from him. What if he pressed his suit
once again? Told her that he felt they had a glorious future
together? Looking into those persuasive grey eyes, Rachel suspected
that she would struggle to retain her resolve, especially when
there was a part of her that urged her to forget the past and look
ahead to what might be.

She needed to
remain strong.

Thus
fortified, she sallied forth instead of taking the more craven
option of breakfasting in bed. She could not avoid the issue, not
when she needed to convince Worsley that he was entirely misguided
in wishing to take her as wife.

The earl was
sitting in the breakfast room, along with her father and her
brother James. Of the newly wedded couple, there was no sign, which
was hardly surprising. Nobody else had put in an appearance. Rachel
smiled impartially around the room.


Good morning. I hope everybody slept well?’

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