Dare to Love (35 page)

Dare approached the bed, shocked by what he saw. His mother had tried to prepare him, but one could not appreciate the effect of the disease until witnessed firsthand. The marquess was propped up in bed, barely visible in the fading light of day. That was most likely a good thing.

Dare stared at his misshapen visage, the telltale lumps of advanced syphilis swelling his lips, his cheeks puffy. What was left of his hair was grayed and lank. His large frame filled the bed, unnaturally still.

His mother had proclaimed it fitting that the marquess would suffer so, after flaunting all those women in her face. Still, Dare couldn’t help experiencing a moment of…not sorrow really…perhaps compassion, when he entered the room. It dissipated the instant he heard his father’s voice.

“Who is it?” barked his father from the shadows.

Dare stiffened his spine and took a decisive step forward. “It is I, sir.”

His father peered at him, unable to discern his features in the dark. Dare refused to give him satisfaction by leaning closer.
After all,
his father had always stressed the importance of an erect posture.

“Boy? Is that you?” the voice croaked once again.

“Yes, sir. It is Adair.” He took a step forward and gave the slightest hint of a bow. “I understand you wished to see me.”

“Bah! I wouldn’t care if I never caught sight of you again. What I wished for was to have a son that I could be proud of. A son who appreciated a day’s work and didn’t go flitting around London like a bloody fripon.” He’d sat up during the tirade, but now collapsed back into the pillows.

Taking a breath, he continued, “I ordered you here to finally bring you to heel. Now that I am about to cock toes up, you must marry. I know you have taken great joy in threatening to end our lineage, but that will not happen. I have arranged for you to marry the Billingston girl next door. She’s pretty enough, which is more than you deserve. And the older girl has already proven to be a hearty breeder, bearing two sons in as many years. Slap a few brats to Marta’s breast and then you can continue your life as you choose. Surely, even you can manage something that simple.”

Again he sunk back into the bed.

Dare felt sick. That was the exact sentiment he had relayed to Nivea when describing marriage. Had he truly been that baseless? That heartless? Good God, it was lowering. Nivea was a noble soul, indeed, if she could overlook his abhorrent behavior.

He felt a pang of guilt, knowing she was currently at the mercy of his mother and sisters, no doubt fending off vicious taunts and slurs with all the grace she could muster. Eager to rescue her, Dare strode forward until he was inches from the bed. Seen at close range, his father’s appearance was more horrifying. It was as though the ugliness of his soul was now visible for all to see.

Taking a deep breath, he announced, “Father, I will not be marrying the Billingston girl. So not to disappoint you entirely, I will tell you that I have, in fact, found a woman to marry. She is more than I could have ever hoped for and has graciously agreed to be my wife.”

His father’s eyes flashed. “A trollop? A whore? Will you be tainting the blood of my lineage with some bit o’ muslin eager for a title? I won’t have it!”

Dare’s anger rose to meet his father’s. “No sir. Nivea is no trollop. The daughter of the Earl of Cheltenham is a sweet and well-mannered lady. I expect she will provide me children of uncommon intellect and temperament.”

He stared down at the figure lying in bed, waiting. The response was unexpected. The old man laughed sharply. “Do not presume I will believe that load of codswallop. You worthless pup, you could not get a lady to marry you for all the gold in Croesus. Enough games. You will marry Marta tomorrow, and that will be the end of it.”

Lacing his fingers behind his back, Dare tried to tamp down his anger. It was galling to know his father still harbored such resentment.

But this time, he would have the last word. “I am sorry to disappoint you, Father, but Nivea does, in fact, exist. She is downstairs at this very moment. I hesitate to bring her up because I would prefer that she never learn of the depth of your perversion. But if it will help convince you of her existence, I will go fetch her.”

The marquess waved his hand in dismissal. “No need. Play whatever game you like tonight. Tomorrow, you will marry. Now go. Tell Stevens to bring my dinner and light some more tapers in here. I’m not ready for eternal darkness yet, no matter how hard you all wish for it.”

Eager to escape, Dare exited the room and headed downstairs. There, he paused to gulp in a few steadying breaths before opening the parlor doors.

Nivea was sitting on the settee where he’d left her. While her lips formed a polite smile, he could see her fingers gripped together in her lap, a stunned expression in her eyes. When she saw him in the doorway, a look of relief washed over her. “Dare—Lord Landis, how is your father?”

“He is the same as always.” Walking over, he sat next to her and patted her hand. Before he could say more, his mother drew his attention. Still a handsome woman, with her aristocratic features and neatly coiffed hair, she couldn’t conceal the hardness around her mouth and eyes.

“Did you have a pleasant visit upstairs?” she sneered.

“Certainly not, but I expected no less.”

“Yes, well some things never change. I’m sure the marquess relayed how eager he is for you to marry.”

He inclined his head, but offered no response. Instead he rubbed his thumb over Nivea’s hand, marveling at its warmth.

“Do you think you can convince your father of your little charade?

He jerked his head up. “Charade? What do you mean?”

“Her.” She waved a hand dismissively in Nivea’s direction. “Surely, you could have picked someone a little more”—she let her eyes pass over Nivea—“believable.”

His sisters snickered in response.

He didn’t realize he had started forward until he felt Nivea place a restraining hand on his arm. “What do you mean, mother?” he growled between clenched teeth.

His oldest sister, Fiona, piped up, “Come now, Adair. I know it was short notice, but I would have expected you to have a number of more suitable looking women to choose from. Imaging trying to pass
her
off as an earl’s daughter? Just because Father’s dying, do not think he’s a fool.”

Nivea begin to quiver next to him. He did not dare to look at her, because if he saw the inevitable tears in her eyes, he would no doubt slaughter the entire room. Good God, too much time in their presence and Nivea might decide to back out. That he could not allow.

He drew in a breath to calm his fury, but before he could respond, a footman entered. “Tea is ready, Lady Raynsforth. Should we bring it in?”

“Of course you should bring it in,” she snapped, “do you expect us to serve ourselves in the hallway?”

“No, my lady.” The poor servant bowed in subjugation and retrieved the tray from the hallway table. Placing it on the table in front of Lady Raynsforth, his sleeve brushed against the plate of biscuits and caused one to slide from the plate.

“Get out, before you dump it all on the floor, ” she shrieked, driving the poor man from the room.

While Lady Raynsforth poured the tea into the cups, Dare’s youngest sister, Anne, grabbed for a biscuit. “I’d better get one before Adair’s betrothed spots them. I’d wager there wouldn’t be enough left for all of us.”

They all tittered with amusement.

Except for Dare. He jumped to his feet and roared, “You will apologize now! Nivea will be the next Marchioness of Raynsforth, although why she would want such a distasteful title, I cannot guess. Regardless, I will be marrying her, and I demand you treat her with respect!”

Before they were able to form a sentence, he grabbed Nivea’s hand and dragged her from the room.

“Oh, Dare, they were so hateful!” Nivea cried as they raced up the stairs. “They teased each other in good humor, but the things they said about you were so cruel, so blatantly evil.”

They were traveling at such a quick pace down a long hallway and up another set of stairs, she could hardly breathe. But there was no stopping Dare as he pulled her along, his face hardened granite, and his eyes black with rage. He said nothing until they reached the landing where he spotted a maid in the hallway.

“You there! Where has Miss Horsham been placed for the evening?”

The woman looked startled. “Milord?”

“Miss Horsham. My betrothed. Which room will she be using?”

“I believe she’s in the west wing, milord. The Cherub Room.”

Nivea was unprepared for the violence of his response. He stalked over to the young woman, face livid with anger and bellowed, “You put my future wife in the room my father bedded his whores? You will see to it that her things are moved immediately. I expect her to be settled into the walnut room within the quarter hour. Do you understand?”

Cowering with fear, the woman nodded before racing down the hallway as though chased by the devil himself. Even Nivea was shaken by the fury emanating from him. Knowing there was nothing she could say to make this better, she waited quietly until he had regained control.

“Come,” he announced after a moment. He walked halfway down the hall and opened a door on the right. Nivea followed, entering a charming room of green and taupe. The walnut furniture was light and whorled, giving the room the appearance of a forest hideaway.

“I’m certain you will be comfortable here.”

“Oh, this is lovely,” Nivea gasped.

“Good. I’m glad you like it.” He did his best to smile, but his face was strained. “I am sorry about the delay, but it shouldn’t be long before you can get settled. Now, if you will please excuse me, I must take care of a few things. Be assured the rest of the visit will be more accommodating.” He took her hand, kissed it gently, and left.

Dazed, Nivea collapsed on the bed.

This was bad.
It was so much worse than she could have imagined. It was a wonder Dare was able to function at all growing up in this house. She had prepared herself for an uncomfortable few days, but this was horrific.

She sat there, trying to sort through the day’s events. Every so often, she could hear snippets of Dare yelling downstairs.

“…the Cherub Room? How dare you…? If you ever act like that…”

Then she heard a door slam, his footsteps stomping in the hallway, and then silence.

She had started to drift off when her maid tapped on her door. “Milady, we have brought your things.” Emma was followed in the room by two footmen carrying her bags. “Oh, this is much more suitable.”

The other room must have been quite disturbing, judging by the scandalized look on her maid’s face. “Don’t worry, I will just need a moment to set your things out,” she said, bustling about. “In the meantime, you can read this note. Lord Landis asked that I give it to you.”

Nivea broke the seal and sat by the window to read it. The writing was so like Dare—bold and meticulous, with no unwarranted flourishes.

Miss Horsham,

It appears I spend most of my time apologizing to you. I hope you will forgive me once again. I should never have subjected you to my family. I offer you my deepest regrets for their behavior.

I have asked that a tray be sent to your room for supper this evening. There is no need for you to associate with those cretins any more than necessary.

I have left for the Billingston’s to negate my father’s agreement. As much as I would like to be with you, it would be best if we stay apart to reduce any hateful gossip my family may chose to spread.

I anticipate one final meal with them tomorrow and then we can return to London.

Once again, please forgive me.

Your devoted servant,

Dare

The poor man. She wished she could see him, comfort him, but he was right. Staying apart would be best for now. Eager to return home, she had Emma bring her supper without delay, and then climbed into bed, falling fast asleep.

The next morning, Emma brought up another missive from Dare, along with her breakfast tray.

Miss Horsham,

I trust you had a pleasant sleep. Today we will be taking our mid-day meal with my family where we will bring this matter to a resolution. I assure you, there is no need to worry. By tomorrow, we will have put this behind us and returned you to your loving and supportive family.

Until then

All my love,

Dare

All my love
. How delightful that sounded.

Nivea could sustain anything, knowing that Dare truly cared for her. It was almost worth facing his family again, just to see him, be with him.

She took special care getting dressed for lunch. Her heart was racing as she let Emma apply the final touches to her hair. Stepping into the hallway, her heart surged with joy.

Dare was standing there, waiting for her. Although he was as handsome as ever, his eyes were shadowed. He didn’t touch her, but his voice betrayed his emotions roiling beneath the surface. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you. I won’t ask the same of you.”

He grimaced. “No, I’m afraid it was an uncomfortable evening. But today will put it all to rest.”

He took her hand to escort her downstairs and then stopped. “Where is your ring?”

Confused, she stared at him.

“Your engagement ring. Why aren’t you wearing it?”

“I didn’t think it proper. Not until everything is resolved.” After the ugliness with his family yesterday, she had taken off the ring and tucked it into her reticule. Much as she loved it, she was afraid it might set off a firestorm if his sisters spotted a family heirloom on her hand.

Dare glared at her. “That issue has been thoroughly resolved. I asked for your hand, you gave it to me, and you will wear my ring. At all times.”

Flustered but pleased, Nivea hurried into her room, placed the ring back on her finger, and dashed out. When she held up her hand for him to see, he brought it to his lips for a kiss and flashed her a smile so full of heat, her knees went weak.