A Scandalous Publication (17 page)

“Yes, you did, didn’t you? You
much
preferred Sylvia Parkstone’s jaundiced view of me, even though her own father doesn’t support her, and I’ve little doubt that you’ll see fit to do the same thing all over again. That IOU was overlooked when I sent the others back; it had fallen to the back of the drawer and was only found a short while ago, and that is the only reason it was still in my possession. I don’t know why I just left it in the drawer when I rediscovered it, but I did, and you may believe, Miss Wyndham, that I heartily wish I’d burned the damned thing the moment it resurfaced. So, that disposes of the matter of the IOU, but there are other things of equal importance, aren’t there? I’ll warrant you still believe I murdered my wife, for that’s surely Sylvia’s most favorite crusade of all, the one she rides into battle over time after tedious time until I do indeed sometimes have murder on my mind
—hers! Well, I didn’t murder Anne, Miss Wyndham, even though I quite openly admit that I wished myself free of her. She was an unreasonable, jealous woman, accusing me of bedding every maid in the house, and nearly every maid in everyone else’s house as well. She was convinced that I kept mistresses, when I didn’t. Judith came very late on the scene; indeed, she didn’t become my mistress until after Anne’s death, and she isn’t my mistress anymore, no matter how much she may pretend otherwise to the world.” He looked away for a moment. “I endured a great deal from my wife, Miss Wyndham, and although I loved her when I married her, by the time of her death I virtually loathed her.”

“And yet you gave her a horse and gig?”

He gave a faint smile. “It was her birthday and I thought perhaps…
.
I thought perhaps a conciliatory gesture might melt a little of the ice. It didn’t. She accused me of giving it to salve my conscience because I’d slept with another woman the night before. I tried to feel compassion for her, because surely such jealousy is as much an ailment as the ague, but where people recover from the ague, Anne simply remained entrenched in her suspicion and mistrust. A man would need to have the patience of a saint to withstand such endless, unreasonable resentment, grudge-bearing, and imagined grievances and I most certainly cannot claim to be a saint.” Again the faint, wry smile touched his lips. “I realize that this version of events is far less exciting and titillating than my sister-in-law’s, but like my side of the Westington duel, it happens to be the truth. Miss Wyndham, I trust I don’t have to remind you that events at the duel vindicated me completely.”

Her voice was very small. “I believe you, Sir Maxim.”

“Do you? Oh, how magnanimous.” He sketched a scornful bow.

She got up a little agitatedly then. “I can understand your anger, and I know I deserve your sarcasm and derision, but I don’t deserve to be spoken to so very harshly when I’ve admitted to being in the wrong and have asked you to forgive me.” She was struggling to keep her voice level, for she was close to tears.

“But such an empty admission isn’t enough, for there are still things I know damned well you doubt. The horse your father won from me, for instance. Well? Do you still wonder if I lost it to him in the hope that it would kill him? Look at the letter again, Miss Wyndham. There’s a postscript you haven’t read yet.”

She opened the letter again. The postscript had been hastily written on the back.

P.S. Be warned, dear boy, that friendship is one thing, the acquisition of your damned unmanageable nag quite another. Foul-tempered and unridable it might be, but I’ll win it from you yet. GW

She looked at him. “What do you want me to say?”

“Oh, I don’t exactly want my pound of flesh; I just want to know beyond any doubt whatsoever that you know the truth, and that means the truth about everything. We’ll begin with Kimber Park. I admit to having on more than one occasion offered your father a handsome price for it, but he refused
—not because he was inordinately attached to the place himself, but because he said you and your mother were and he could not bring himself to sell it, knowing how deeply upset you would be. That I acquired the property in the end doesn’t stand in any doubt, but nor is there any doubt that I offered a very sound bargain indeed, leaving you with enough to purchase another small property and to provide you with an allowance upon which to live. I’m not according myself any laurels, Miss Wyndham, I’m just stating the facts. So, we’ve covered the subject of your father’s debts and death, of my designs upon Kimber Park, and of my parody of a marriage. What’s left? Ah, yes, the duels, for there I am undoubtedly responsible for the deaths of others. I’ve fought four duels in all, Miss Wyndham, resulting in four victories—or three deaths and a considerable humiliation, depending
upon which way you look at it. The Westington farce you know already; the others are perhaps not so well-known to you. My first opponent accused me of cheating at cards. Someone was cheating that night at Brook’s, but it most certainly wasn’t me, and when he repeated his accusation, I had to defend my honor by calling him out. As he was an excellent shot, I had to be accurate or pay the ultimate price myself. The second man accused me of seducing his daughters
—all three of them, would you believe? A busy and virile fellow I might be, Miss Wyndham, but I’m not a fool, and only a fool would attempt to meddle with three very jealous sisters who were always trying to outdo one another. They stuck together in their story of vile seduction, until one of them saw how neatly she could demolish her sisters’ reputation by admitting the truth, that I hadn’t seduced any of them. By then it was too late, the duel had been fought and their father lay dying of a septic wound.”

He paused for a moment, his eyes lowered. “The third duel,” he went on, “resulted in the death of a former friend; he accused me of spreading malicious rumors concerning his financial affairs, rumors that resulted in the bankrupting of two of his business ventures. How the stories got about I’ve no idea; I only know that I wasn’t the perpetrator. He was quite distraught, however, forcing me into a duel, which was the last thing he needed with all his other problems. He gave me no choice but to kill him, for he fired once and prepared immediately to fire again, and as he’d nearly disposed of me with the first shot, hence the scar on my cheek, I wasn’t about to be a sitting target the second time. It was kill or be killed, Miss Wyndham, and I’m as eager to continue in this world as the next man. So there you have it, the true story of Max Talgarth, or is there perhaps something still niggling away at your righteous little conscience?” His blue eyes rested coldly on her.

She shook her head. “No.” Her voice was barely audible, she felt so wretched.

“Are you quite sure?” he taunted. “You have a horrid suspicion that I’m planning to assist Bonaparte to escape from Saint Helena? Or that I have designs upon the crown jewels? Maybe it’s that I’m really Princess Charlotte’s lover and that I’m not really going to Chatsworth at all tomorrow but am going to a secret rendezvous with her instead?”

“Stop it! Oh, please, stop it!” Tears were visible in her eyes now. “I believe everything you’ve told me, and I’m deeply ashamed of having doubted you so much. I’m sorry for everything I’ve said to you, Sir Maxim; I’m truly sorry and I really don’t know what else I can say.” She tried to blink the tears away, but they welled hotly from her eyes.

Her distress seemed to take him by surprise. Then he closed his eyes for a moment and stood motionless with his head bowed. The silence hung; then he came to her, taking a handkerchief from his pocket and gently wiping her tears away. “There is one thing you can say,” he said softly, holding her gaze, “and that is that you forgive me.”

“F-Forgive you? But
—”

“No buts. I’ve behaved monstrously again and I know it
.
”

“I shouldn’t have accused you as I did,” she whispered, acutely aware of the touch of his hand against her cheek.

He smiled a little, his thumb moving softly over her skin. “You didn’t deserve such treatment, nor did you deserve all that happened at Kimber Park that day; it was my fault, not yours. I behaved badly when Judith arrived, dispatching you to the garden and then not offering you anything by way of explanation, and my subsequent behavior at the picnic left a great deal to be desired. You’ve managed to get under my skin, Charlotte Wyndham. You’ve a way of looking at me sometimes that plays havoc with my equilibrium, for you seem able at a glance to dispose of any claim I might have had to sangfroid. I’ve tried to ignore your existence; indeed, for almost a year I did my damnedest to keep you at a safe distance, but it was impossible to forget you or put you from my thoughts. You’ve come to mean too much to me, Charlotte, and that’s why it’s so very important to me that you, of all people, believe in the truth about me.”

The air seemed suddenly very still, almost muffled. She could no longer hear the clock or the distant music of a pianoforte drifting in from the darkness outside. The wild beating of her own heart seemed the only sound as she stared at him. “Wh-What are you telling me?” she asked hesitantly, conscious of every gentle movement of his caressing thumb, of the warmth that darkened his eyes now.

“Don’t you understand why I’ve broken off my relationship with Judith? Didn’t you have any inkling that day at Kimber Park? How could I maintain a liaison with her and do right by her when all the time I could only think of you? Since the day I came to Kimber Park to sign the deeds, I haven’t been able to think of any woman other than you, Charlotte, and I’ve been endeavoring to let Judith down as lightly as possible. My feelings for her were very transitory. I never loved her, and I never pretended to her that I did, but she loved me and wouldn’t accept that it was over. But it
is
over, Charlotte, because it’s you that I love, and have loved for so long now.” He smiled a little wryly. “I’ll warrant that that was the very last confession you ever expected to hear from me.”

She felt weak. Was this another dream? Would she suddenly awaken?

Her silence made him uncertain. “Haven’t you anything to say? Maybe a suitably crushing rebuff escapes you for the moment.”

Her fingers were over his then, curling urgently around them. She smiled through her tears. “Oh, Max,” she whispered. “Max, I love you so very much.”

She could say no more, for he swept her into his arms, stopping her words with a kiss. There was no harsh brutality in him now, but there was a passion that seemed to melt through her, drawing her inexorably toward an ecstasy that threatened to rob her of consciousness. She had dreamed of a kiss like this; now it was happening, possessing her very soul. Her whole body was alive to him, the blood coursing through her veins as if it were on fire. It was a moment she wanted to go on forever.

The bell of a nearby church was striking midnight as Max’s carriage drew up outside the house in Henrietta Street. The Parkstone barouche was still there and so Max declined to go in, not wishing to risk an unpleasant scene with Sylvia that might ruin this very special evening.

They lingered in the carriage for a moment, and he cupped Charlotte’s face in his hands, kissing her on the lips once more before alighting and assisting her down. His fingers were warm and firm around hers as he drew her closer, his lips so very near as he looked down into her eyes again. “You’re sure of your feelings?”

“Very sure.”

“And you know that Judith no longer has any place in my life?”

“Yes.”

“It never mattered in the past that I’d acquired the reputation I had, but then you came along and suddenly it mattered a great deal.” He smiled at her, his eyes almost black in the slanting light of a nearby streetlamp. “I wish I wasn’t going away for the next month, but I must.”

“I’ll miss you so very much.”

“And I you.”

“I’ll write to you.”

He hesitated then. “Yes,” he said softly, “for it is surely expected that a lady should write to the man she is to marry.”

Charlotte stared at him. “Are you asking me…?”

“To be my wife? Yes, Charlotte, for I can’t imagine any other woman at my side, nor any other woman as mistress of Kimber Park.” He touched her hair with his fingertips. “Will you accept me, my love?”

“If you’re sure you want me.”

“Do you need more proof than tonight?”

She smiled then. “No,” she whispered.

“Then will you marry me, Charlotte?”

“Yes. Oh, yes.”

He drew her into his arms again, his lips lingering on hers for a final time. She didn’t want him to leave, for that would mean the end of a day that had started in the depths of despair but that was finishing at the very peak of enchantment and joy. But then he was gone, stepping quickly back into the carriage, which almost immediately drove away, the team’s hooves clattering loudly in the quiet darkness.

“It would seem that your problems with Talgarth are more than resolved, Charlotte.” Richard spoke from close by.

She turned quickly to see him standing on the pavement, having just returned from a walk. “I didn’t know you were there!” she cried.

He grinned. “That much was obvious, even to me.” He stubbed out the Spanish cigar that was the reason for his walk, his sister refusing to countenance tobacco smoke in the house. “So, that was the reason for your strange mood, I confess I hadn’t thought that to be the way of it. Against all the odds, you appear to have snapped up one of England’s most eligible men.”

“I love him, Richard.”

“I sincerely trust you do, for I wouldn’t approve at all if my niece was as intimate as that with a man she cared little for. Why didn’t he go in?”

She hesitated then. Richard, like her mother, still knew nothing about Sylvia’s loathing for Max. To spare her mother distress, it had been agreed between Sylvia, the admiral, and Charlotte herself not to mention the matter; now that situation could no longer continue, not if Max was to become part of the family. She went slowly to him. “Richard, there’s something you should know, something that can no longer be left unsaid, even though it will undoubtedly cause more than a little discord.”