A Scoundrel's Surrender (20 page)

“I have heard you were recently engaged, Miss Farnsworth,” Lady Waverly said as she handed over a plate of delicious-looking finger sandwiches.

Marah nodded as her attention was brought back to the women. “I am, Your Grace.”

Lady Billingham smiled. “You and Mr. Talbot look well together. It is a fine match.”

Marah paled. “I, er, you misunderstand, Your Grace. It is not Mr. Talbot to whom I'm engaged.”

Lady Billingham drew back and she and Lady Waverly exchanged a look that was both incredulous and knowing. Marah shifted. It was like they were having a little conversation with their eyes and she was the subject.

“I apologize,” Lady Billingham finally said with a smile. “I assumed without asking. I should know better.”

Lady Waverly also smiled as she took a sip of her tea. “Now, why don't you tell us all about yourself? The instant I met you, I was certain that we are destined to be close friends.”

Marah cast a quick side glance at Caleb, but he seemed to be lost in conversation with his brothers. She didn't dare interrupt and perhaps break a bond being built slowly but surely.

So she smiled at the ladies and was welcomed into their conversation. She found she liked them both immensely. Lady Billingham, with her blond hair and bright eyes, was sharp and witty. Lady Waverly, the darker of the two women, was immediately friendly, putting Marah at ease with just a glance. She could feel the strength of their friendship, but was never excluded by it.

She was shocked when over an hour had passed and the men began to pack up the picnic basket carefully.

Billingham exchanged a quick look at Waverly and then he smiled at Marah and Caleb as they got up from the blanket. “We would very much enjoy it if the two of you would join us for supper tonight.”

Marah's lips parted. She had accompanied Caleb in order to put him at ease, but spending an entire day with him, a night with him . . . that idea did not seem wise. Especially when she considered what had transpired the last time they were alone in a carriage together.

But he looked at her from the corner of his eye, and his bright blue gaze pleaded with her. “I cannot speak for Miss Marah, but I would greatly enjoy that. Marah?”

“Please do say yes,” Lady Waverly said as she clasped Marah's hand gently. “With my confinement advancing, I see so few people. Rhys is overly protective.”

She winked, and her husband, the Duke of Waverly, laughed. In that moment Marah was struck by how his smile was like Caleb's. There was no doubt, this
was
Caleb's family.

“Y-yes,” she found herself stammering, still in shock. “I would greatly enjoy that.”

Caleb stepped up beside her and she felt the gentle warmth of his hand at the small of her back. The return of the support she had just offered, despite her hesitation.

“We will see you at my London home at seven,” Billingham said with a smile.

Then the other group headed off toward their carriage, leaving Marah and Caleb alone.

“We didn't speak of our relationship,” he said as he took her arm and led her back down the hill toward his vehicle.

She smiled. “I saw it in Waverly's face.”

“What?” Caleb asked with a half glance at her.

“You,” she whispered as she stopped and reached up to briefly touch his cheek. “Your smile. Your laugh. It was there. I have no doubt you will soon resolve this matter and I think in a way that will be very happy for all of you. They will welcome you into their fold.”

He looked at her as she dropped her hand away. “You seemed as comfortable as can be with their wives.”

She smiled. “How could one not be? They are the best that the word
lady
implies.”

“As are you,” Caleb said, leaning closer.

Marah caught her breath. She so wanted the kiss she could see in the promise of his gaze, but she drew away.

“Come, I shall have much explaining to do if I am to join you tonight.”

She moved toward the carriage. It took a moment for Caleb to do the same, but he helped her up without a word and joined her. She sighed as they pulled away from the park. She had vowed to separate herself from this man, but yet continued to involve herself in his life and his happiness.

The question was, could she stop that now that she was to wed another? And did she truly wish to?

Chapter 21

C
aleb couldn't keep his eyes off of Marah as they stood in the parlor of the Duke of Billingham's London home, sharing a spectacular bottle of port with his two brothers and their wives after a delightful supper.

His attention to her was foolish, considering where he was and with whom. He forced his focus back to the men. He was really beginning to like them both. Even Waverly, whom he had despised as a boy because of his arrogance, had been softened by his marriage to a lady no one could disapprove of. Lady Anne Waverly was as kind as she was beautiful, as was Lady Lillian Billingham.

He belonged here. He felt it in his bones. And yet instead of pondering that, he found himself looking again at Marah. Her blond hair had been done up in a complicated and pretty fashion and she wore a fine deep blue gown that brought out the brightness of her eyes and the porcelain paleness of her skin. Even in a room with two duchesses, she was the most regal and stunning woman.

“I was sorry to hear of the passing of the marquis,” Billingham said softly.

Caleb couldn't help but look at the black band he wore on his arm to express his grief. In the midst of all this attempting to find out who he was and where he belonged, he couldn't help but continually wonder if his father would have been hurt by his actions.

He swallowed. “He was the best of men.”

Waverly nodded somberly. “He was indeed. I had a great deal of respect for him.”

Caleb shifted, and the tension in the room seemed to mount. Even the ladies had stopped speaking and were now staring at the men in waiting.

“I actually heard something recently about my father that made me love and respect him all the more,” Caleb began.

Billingham eased closer, as if anticipating what was about to come. “Did you?”

“Yes.” Caleb's voice caught, but he forced himself to continue. “Although he knew that I was not his son, he accepted me and loved me regardless.”

Waverly's expression softened with relief, but also something more intense. “You know.”

Caleb nodded again. “Yes. I know.”

Billingham moved toward him slowly, his face unreadable. Caleb tensed as he reached him. Would this man reject or accept him? Deny or welcome him? His head throbbed as he awaited the answer.

“Then let me introduce you to your brother, Rhys,” he said softly as his hand came out to cover Caleb's shoulder. “Welcome to our family, Caleb. As odd and secret and patchwork as it is, you are a long-awaited addition to it.”

“How long have you known about me?” Caleb choked when he was able to find his voice again.

“Last summer,” Rhys admitted. When Caleb's eyes grew wide, Rhys rushed to continue, “But not the night I saw you in the countryside and made my terrible attempt at apology for my abhorrent behavior. I didn't know you were my brother until later.”

Caleb was speechless and numb at the reaction of the two men who stood before him, smiling and welcoming him as if this strange thing was normal. But evidently it was to them. After all, at some point they had discovered the unlikely truth that they were brothers to each other, too.

“How many others are there?” Caleb asked.

Billingham shrugged, his expression tightening with pain that had been dulled by time. “We don't know. Our father was a philanderer, a seducer, even a rapist. He loved knowing he had by-blows aplenty, all while being celebrated by everyone around him for his
piety
.”

Billingham emphasized the last word with disgust as Caleb nodded slowly. He was happy he wouldn't have to crush this man with the truth about his father's . . . their father's predilection for force when a woman wouldn't yield what he desired of her own free will.

“I'm certain you have many questions,” Rhys said. “If we can answer them, we would be happy to do so.”

Caleb stared at the two men, overwhelmed by the acceptance he found here. He looked across the room. Lady Billingham and Lady Waverly stood with Marah between them. All three women had tears in their eyes. In that moment, she belonged in his family, both the one he had grown up in and the one he had found in this room. His heart swelled and he couldn't imagine letting her go. Not to Emerson Winstead and not to anyone else.

She smiled at him and he returned the expression softly. Then he turned to his brothers and they began to speak about their father, the lives he had destroyed, and the ones he had created.

I
t was late, too late, as Caleb's carriage wove its way back toward Justin and Victoria's home through the darkened London streets. Marah knew she was going to face a great many questions from Victoria, but what could she do? Once Caleb and his brothers had begun talking, she had seen the bond they instantly forged. She couldn't have taken that away from him simply because she feared Victoria's reaction to her late return.

She looked across the dim carriage at him and smiled. He didn't return the expression.

“You are very quiet,” she said softly. “You have much to think about, I suppose.”

He nodded. His silence confused her, for Caleb was generally gregarious. Now he just
stared
, and she shifted beneath his focused regard.

“It was a pleasure watching you with your brothers tonight,” she whispered.

“As it was to watch you,” he answered quietly. “You fit into both my families without a seam to be seen. My brothers actually asked if we were engaged. I think they were surprised I would bring someone to such an important meeting who wasn't my . . . love.”

She tensed. His love.

“Caleb,” she whispered.

He reached across the carriage and took her hands. She had forgotten to put on her gloves and his palms were rough against hers.

“Don't marry him, Marah,” Caleb whispered.

Marah sucked in a breath. With a start, she tried to free her hands from his but he wouldn't allow it. He clung insistently, never removing his intense gaze from her face.

“Don't marry Emerson Winstead,” he continued. “You think you know what you want, but you don't.”

“You don't know that,” she whispered, her voice catching. “You don't know what I want.”

“Perhaps you are right,” he said without missing a beat. “Perhaps I only know what I want. Would you like me to tell you?”

“No,” she whispered, turning her face and once again trying to free her hand. In truth, she did want to hear his words. So desperately. But she was terrified of them, too. Of this confession when it was too late.

He kept her hand captive and used the free one to cup her chin and force her to look at him.

“I want you.” He stared into her eyes as he spoke. “I
need
you. If you marry some other man, especially a man who you do not love, it could kill me where I stand.”

She shook her head. “You don't mean that.”

“Don't marry him, Marah,” he said. “Marry me.”

Marah's heart was pounding so loudly in her head that she could hear nothing but the rush of blood in her ears. Her mouth was agape, and she hardly noticed when the carriage pulled onto Justin and Victoria's drive. As the footman came to the door, Caleb held it shut, keeping him from entering. Immediately the servant stepped away.

“Please marry me.”

Her heart felt like it was stretching, expanding to fill her entire chest as emotions overwhelmed her. Joy, wonder, surprise, they hit her from every side and sent her off-kilter and dizzy. But one stood out above the fray. Stark, cold terror.

She breathed slowly and tried to regain some control over rational thought and reason. “You say this out of emotion.”

He nodded.

“We cannot make these kinds of decisions on emotion,” she insisted.

“This is the one decision that should be made entirely on emotion,” he argued.

She sucked in a sobbing breath. “Well, I have seen the consequences of such a thing,” she whispered, her voice broken and choked. “My parents married in a passion, and in the end it only hurt everyone involved. My mother died and my father regretted his choice.”

“I am not your father, nor are you,” Caleb said.

“You may not be my father, but you terrify me regardless,” she admitted. “I've watched you walk away from me too many times to trust that you won't do it again.”

“I promise—”

She shook her head. “You
can't
promise. You don't know what the future will bring. I fear you'll end up running from me again. But I also fear you'll stay. I want stability, I want calm . . . I've spent a lifetime without them. With you, I would have neither.”

“Marah.” Caleb stared at her, so intense that she felt like she was drowning in the stormy blue sea of his eyes. “Don't do this.”

She pushed the carriage door open. His offer seemed like heaven, but she feared the potential for hell too much to take it.

“I can't,” she said as she hurried from the carriage, leaving him alone behind her.

C
aleb pulled into the drive of his mother's house with a heavy heart. He had a suspicion that his brother was there and he wanted more than anything to speak to Justin.

He was announced to his father's old office. As he stepped inside he came to a sudden halt. Justin sat behind the old desk, head bent over paperwork. In a flash of a moment, Caleb saw his father in his brother's face. A younger version, yes, from their childhood when he had snuck in and hidden under the desk as his father worked.

Justin looked up. “Oh, hello.”

Caleb frowned. “You look tired.”

Justin shrugged as he returned his attention to his papers. “It is early still.”

Caleb tilted his head. “No, it isn't. It is almost midnight. You should go home to your wife.”

Justin looked up again in dazed surprise. “Midnight?” He glanced at the clock. “I suppose it is.”

His brother closed the folder in front of him and rubbed his eyes gently. “I've been told you went to visit the Duke of Billingham tonight.”

Caleb tensed. “Have you?”

Justin smiled sadly. “I know a little, Caleb. You don't have to hide this from me.”

Caleb shifted as he took a seat across from his brother. “I hope you know that just because I take a place in my other family doesn't mean I have forgotten this one. Or that I don't appreciate what a good brother and friend you are.”

His brother's expression softened. “Thank you, Caleb. That means a great deal to me.”

“I-I took Marah with me,” he said softly.

Justin's lips thinned. “Did you? She said she was visiting an old friend in town.”

Caleb nodded. “I need your advice. As my brother. As my friend.”

Justin straightened up. “You shall always have it.”

“I-I asked her not to marry Winstead. I told her she should marry me.”

His brother's eyes lit up with unmistakable relief and pleasure. “And what did she say?”

“She refused me.” Caleb winced as he recalled that moment in perfect and painful clarity. “She told me she couldn't trust me, and that I frightened her.”

Justin shook his head. “I hate to say it, but why shouldn't she feel this way? After all, you ran away from her more than once. And how did you ask her to marry you?”

Caleb wrinkled his brow. “I said I needed her. I wanted her. What more could I give than that?”

Justin smiled. “For a man who has had so many lovers, you really don't know a damned thing about women.”

Caleb opened his mouth to protest, but Justin waved him off with a chuckle.

“Don't argue! Think about what you said. You told her
you
needed her.
You
wanted her. There was no thought to her feelings or fears in those words.”

Caleb shifted. He had never thought of it that way. “But—”

“The entire time you have known her, have you ever given her something just for her? Something that would prove you would protect her, love her, offer her strength when she was lacking it?”

With a start, Caleb thought of the question. He racked his mind for even one example of what his brother meant.

Finally he stammered, “I-I comforted her after her relationship to the Breckinridge family was revealed at Victoria's party.”

The moment he said the words, he knew how ridiculous they sounded. His brother's arched brow was further indication.

“If that is the best you've done, no wonder she runs away from you.” Justin shrugged.

“Oh, thank you,” Caleb said with a dry smile. “That is very helpful. I'm so happy I came here to spill my soul to you.”

His brother shook his head. “Think of it. Marah has suffered loss in her life, uncertainty. She craves stability, you know that, she's made it plain. If you want her, you must prove to her that you can provide that. And more importantly, if you want to give her more than Emerson would, you must be sure if you
love
her.”

His brother leaned closer. “
Do
you love her?”

Caleb pondered the question. It was one he had avoided with women in the past. In his younger days, he had been interested in pleasure, not permanence. And the discovery of the truth of his birth had attacked every other notion he had of his future.

But with Marah . . . she had always challenged and interested him. Even when he ran from his past, he had kept her in the back of his mind. And since coming face-to-face with her in London, a constant refrain of
mine
had run in his head when he saw her.

She offered herself to him without hesitation. Her support, her comfort, her friendship . . . he couldn't imagine living without them. Without her.

“Yes,” he whispered in wonder. “I love her.”

Justin nodded. “Then you had best get to proving it, my friend, whatever way you can. Otherwise you'll lose her to a man not even fit to shine your boots.”