Lord Braybrook’s Penniless Bride (16 page)

Harry stared.

‘That’s right,’ she said, beyond caution. ‘He tried to blackmail me over it!’

‘A misunderstanding, Daventry,’ Postleton assured him lazily. ‘But we might as well leave the lovebirds to settle the date.’

With that parting shot, he strolled out. Harry cast a panicked look at Christy and followed.

‘Daventry!’ said Braybrook quietly.

He looked back from the doorway, his expression blank.

‘You had better call tomorrow afternoon, or rather
this
afternoon, to discuss the matter.’

His face grey, Harry nodded and walked out, closing the door.

Letting out a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding, Julian turned to Christy.

Spear straight, she faced him. ‘Wait a moment, then check that Postleton is really gone,’ she told him.

He did so, but the passageway was empty, the only sound the
distant drift of music and laughter. He closed the door again and turned back to her. His course was laid out for him, straight and uncompromising. Only he had never envisaged himself making an offer of marriage in the garden room on the heels of an argument and in the teeth of unprecedented scandal.

‘Christy—Miss Daventry—’ He broke off, searching for words, and settled on blunt formality. ‘Miss Daventry, will you do me the—?’

‘No.’ She flung up a hand. ‘There is not the least need for this, sir. You do not need to make me an offer of marriage.’

He sighed. ‘Miss Daventry, we both know better than that,’ he said. ‘While marriage was not what I had in mind, I play by the rules. You are a gently bred lady in my stepmother’s employ. By breakfast time, thanks to your brother, half the county will be speculating about our relationship.’

‘You think he did that
on purpose
?’

The shock and anger in her voice was matched with clenched fists.

‘That is irrelevant,’ he told her. ‘What is relevant is that either I marry you, or your reputation in this neighbourhood is destroyed.’

‘If it doesn’t matter to me—’

‘It matters to me,’ he told her. ‘I am sure you do not expect me down upon my knees, so—will you make me the happiest of men, and do me the honour of becoming my wife?’

‘No.’

He suppressed the urge to swear.

‘Miss Daventry, we have no choice in this.’

‘You may not. I do. No.’

Some of his certainty vanished. His offer to take her as his mistress was one thing. He could understand her refusing that. But he was offering marriage now. An offer far beyond anything she could ever have dreamed. ‘Miss Daventry—’

‘No!’ She flung the word at him, took a deep breath and continued, ‘Harry and I are illegitimate, my lord.’

‘What?’

‘Precisely, my lord. The Duke of Alcaston is our father, not Harry’s godfather. That circumstance relieves you of any obligation. It should also dampen your sister’s enthusiasm for marriage with my brother.’

He stared at her, dumbfounded. She faced him unflinching, her chin up, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

‘That is what I was going to tell you earlier. Now, if you will excuse me, I must begin packing.’

She walked towards the door, the shawl clutched around her. Stunned, he let her go. She was illegitimate. Her brother was illegitimate…Even Lissy would acknowledge that that rendered Harry Daventry ineligible. And as for Christy Daventry, that simple statement was his salvation; no one in their right mind would consider that he owed her marriage now.

Serena’s grey eyes resembled nothing more than twin gun barrels after the house was quiet and he confessed to what had happened and told her the truth of Christy’s birth. Nigel Havergal, seated beside her, said nothing and his expression said less. But Julian had never seen Serena angrier.

‘I have very little choice, Julian,’ she told him quietly. ‘And apparently Miss Daventry herself knows it if she has said that she is leaving.’

‘No.’

Serena raised her brows. ‘What else is to be done? With her reputation destroyed, I cannot employ her without damaging your sisters’ reputations.’

‘It wasn’t her fault!’

Serena laughed mirthlessly. ‘Julian, in these cases it is
always
the woman’s fault. Especially when it isn’t. You know that. All I can do is give her a reference. And even that won’t help her once the story is out, whether you seduced her or not—’

‘I didn’t!’ He dragged in a breath. ‘She refused me.’

Serena raised her brows. ‘A pity you didn’t listen to her. There is nothing I can do, Julian. Unless you have another solution?’

He slept badly. Time and again he woke from dreams in which Christy was gone. Vanished into a swirling fog that consumed even her memory as if she had never been. Each time he reminded himself that he’d given instructions that no carriage was to be ordered for her unless
he
ordered one.

Unless she walked, without her possessions, she couldn’t leave. He’d told himself that each time he woke sweating. Now it was time to face the day. And the consequences of his idiocy.

He saw Alicia first. Pale and subdued, she came to him in the library.

‘Mama said you wished to see me.’ Her voice was husky, as though she had been crying.

‘Yes.’

She swallowed. ‘I’m sorry. Mama told me what happened, and…and about Harry…that he’s—’ She took a shaky breath. ‘I’m sorry, Julian…I didn’t mean—’

‘It’s all right,’ he said quietly. How could he allow Lissy to apologise when his behaviour had been much worse?

‘Mama is writing to Aunt Massingdale in Bath, to see if I may visit earlier than planned.’

It was probably a sensible solution, but…‘What do you want to do, Liss?’

She stared and a tear trickled down her cheek. Dashing it away, she said, ‘I agreed it would be best. So Mama said I should leave straight after the wedding. But Julian, is it—?’

‘Wedding?’

Her cheeks reddened. ‘Well, Mama’s wedding. Julian—you…you aren’t going to challenge Harry? Are you? Please, say you aren’t—I couldn’t bear it!’

What the hell could he say? There was every chance he would end up facing Harry over duelling pistols. ‘I hope not.’

‘Will you have to marry Christy?’

He gave her the best answer he had. ‘I don’t know, Liss.’

His fingers drummed on the desk as he waited for Christy. They had to settle this. Gossip must be flying already, by tomorrow the hunt would be up, with Christy the prey to be coursed and torn to pieces…
Yes, my dear—quite shocking…Of course, I knew how it would be. Always the same, girls of that order—cunning. Out for what they can get.
There would be plenty to join the cry.
Dreadful! Poor Serena! Carrying on the affair right under her very nose. Still, she should have known there was something more to it when Braybrook employed the girl. Dare say the slut will be gone by now…
The men would take a different perspective…sniggering, speculating…
Bit of sport, eh? Shouldn’t have thought she was quite the type, but these quiet ones…eh?

He stood up and went to the windows, staring out at a golden late summer’s afternoon. He could step away from the situation. Christy’s illegitimacy rendered his offer null and void. Drop the fact of her birth into the flood of gossip and the thing was done. She and her brother would be disgraced, and there would be no expectation that he should respond to a challenge from Daventry with anything but derision.

That was how the world would see it. There was even the possibility that with her character destroyed and nowhere to go, she would consent to becoming his mistress and no one would breathe a word of censure.

A light tap came on the door.

‘Come in.’

Christy entered, and it was like a punch to the stomach. Even across the room he could see how strained she looked. How tired. As though she had not slept any better than he had.

‘My baggage is in the hall, my lord,’

She was even making it easy for him…

A
headache thumped behind Christy’s tired, scratchy eyes. Sheer exhaustion had induced an hour or so of nightmare-ridden sleep. Dark, twisting streets in which she wandered alone, lost, searching, always searching for something that remained misty and formless.

Braybrook stood by the window. With the light pouring in behind him his face was shadowed and unreadable. She was unsure why he had sent for her. She supposed he might wish to dismiss her formally with her quarter’s wages. Unless her altered status made her fair game for seduction now. Please God she still had the courage to refuse.

He came forward and she saw the gravity of his expression. ‘Miss Daventry, my offer of marriage stands.’

Her world spun out of control, all her certainties reeling. Barely able to breathe, she stared at him. Against all precedent, all expectation, he was still offering marriage. She could neither speak nor think for the confusion storming through her.

Then, ‘Why?’ she whispered. ‘Why would
you
be prepared to marry me knowing that, when even—?’

She broke off too late. Braybrook frowned, his gaze slicing through every barrier into her memories.

‘Who was he?’

She struggled to rebuild the barriers. ‘That is nothing to do with you, since I have no intention of marrying you.’

‘Who was he?’

Anger stirred. ‘Why? Are you worried in case I’m not a virgin?’

He frowned. ‘Should I be?’

‘Not unless I agree to marry you, and even then I doubt you have the right.’

His expression hardened. ‘Since we
are
going to marry, I’d say I have every right!’

‘Didn’t you tell me once that you were not hypocrite enough to demand something of your bride that you were not prepared to give?’

He was silent for a moment. ‘Very well. Shall we agree that I have no rights, merely a lamentable curiosity? Christy—who was he?’

Perhaps it was better to get it over with. Like cauterising a wound, or digging out a splinter. She shrugged. ‘No one you would know. Jeremy was the son of a merchant. Not wealthy, but rising. I had been at school with his sister and…’ she swallowed, barely able to say it ‘…we fell in love.’

‘And?’

‘He asked me to marry him, so I told him the truth.’

Braybrook nodded. ‘Whereupon you never saw him again?’

Oh, how she wished that were the case!

‘On the contrary, he came to me a week later.’ She forced the words out. ‘He still wanted me; only his terms had changed. I was to take lodgings for which he would pay.’ She stopped, unwilling to go on. Of all men, he would know where this sordid tale was going.

‘Did you?’ There was no accusation in his voice.

‘No.’ She had wanted to crawl into a hole and die of shame. He had spoken to her differently.
Looked
at her differently. As though she were something to be bought. As though she had no right to want, let alone expect, something better.

‘So why are you refusing to marry me?’

She stared. ‘Why—?
You
wanted me to be your mistress
too! Do you think I wish to marry a man who sees me that way?’

His fist clenched. ‘Touché,’ he said harshly. ‘But you refused my offer. As well as refusing the man you apparently loved.’

She shivered. Had she loved Jeremy? How could she tell now? She had thought that she loved him. She had certainly liked him, had wanted to marry him. He would have been a safe husband. But love—?

‘I refused because I was angry!’ she snapped. ‘Not because of any particular virtue!’

His mouth twitched. ‘Yes, I’d imagine that you were angry.’

‘Not because he declined to marry me,’ she said. ‘I understood that. I told him to give him that chance. It was because he wanted to have his cake and eat it.’

His lordship’s eyes widened. ‘He—? Of course.’

‘And I did
not
refuse your offer because I was holding out for a better one!’ She couldn’t bear him to think that. ‘All you need do is let the truth be known. No one will censure you.’

‘Except me,’ he said.

‘You?’

‘After refusing my original and dishonourable offer, you made sure we were never alone together again,’ he said. ‘In fact, you took pains to avoid me as much as possible.’

‘What has that to say to anything?’ She ached with weariness.

‘It matters because you made it clear you did not want what I was offering despite the attraction between us.’

She didn’t want to think about that. About the way her whole body, heart and soul had echoed in harmony when he kissed her. About the way he had made her believe, or wish to believe, that his kisses meant something. That
she
meant something beyond a passing fancy.

‘Perhaps I was being coy,’ she suggested.

‘Coy?’ he repeated. ‘Christy, you are probably the least coy woman of my acquaintance!’ He laughed wryly. ‘Except possibly Serena.’

She was trying not to think about Lady Braybrook. ‘The fact remains, my lord, that—’

‘That you made it clear you would not have me, and I gave you my word you were safe. Instead, I ruined you.’

Her eyes blazed. ‘You did not!’ she shot back. ‘It was a
kiss
, nothing more!’

‘Your reputation, then,’ he amended. ‘Unfortunately, that is enough.’

‘You
can’t
wish to marry me,’ she whispered. It was impossible that he should do such a thing.

His mouth twisted. ‘Christy, this is not what either of us wanted,’ he said quietly, ‘but, there is little choice. I’m not going to announce your illegitimacy.’

She dragged in a breath, fighting to block all emotion and view the matter rationally. She could marry him, or leave in disgrace. If she refused and Braybrook would not use her illegitimacy to defend himself…She swallowed. Harry would challenge him.
One of them at least would die because you were too missish to accept a marriage that is entirely to your advantage…

‘You would have to meet my brother, would you not, my lord?’

Shock slammed into Julian.

‘Christy—you can’t think—! His quarrel with me is justified! I would—’

‘Fire in the air?’ She shrugged. ‘Where’s the difference? Harry is a very fine shot. Very well, I will marry you. You are not the only one with an inconvenient conscience, my lord.’

His breath caught. She understood he would not kill her brother. So if she had not agreed to marriage to protect Harry—his brain felt sluggish, clogged—it was
his
life she was concerned about. She had agreed to marriage to protect
him
. The realisation left him reeling.

You are not the only one with an inconvenient conscience, my lord.

‘We are well matched after all, aren’t we? Shall we say, in four weeks?’

She nodded, turned around and left the room without a word.

Julian stared at the closed door. He had wanted a bride without
any romantical notions to complicate matters. It seemed he had got that with a vengeance. He had also gained a penniless bride with worse than no connections.

Now all he had to do was write a discreet letter to inform Alcaston that his unacknowledged, illegitimate daughter was about to become a viscountess.

‘My lord?’

Julian looked up from his account books to find his butler fidgeting in the doorway. ‘Yes, Hallam.’ He frowned back at his recalcitrant column of figures.

‘My lord, I thought you should know his Grace, the Duke of Alcaston, has called.’

‘What?’

He straightened and set his pen in the holder. ‘Alcaston? Of course I should know! Show him in!’ He’d received a note from Alcaston’s secretary acknowledging his letter and heard nothing more. By now he had assumed that Alcaston was going to ignore the matter.

Hallam swallowed visibly. ‘I’m very sorry, my lord, but he said he’d see you afterwards—’

‘Afterwards? After what?’ demanded Julian, pushing his chair back.

‘After he had seen Miss Daventry,’ explained Hallam. ‘He insisted.’ Hallam hesitated. ‘Not my place to say, my lord, but his Grace…well, he looked angry.’

Suppressing the urge to swear, Julian nodded. ‘Very well. Thank you, Hallam. Where are they?’

‘The drawing room, my lord.’

‘Lady Braybrook is there?’

Hallam shook his head. ‘No, my lord. Her ladyship went down to the Dower House with Mr Havergal to see the new furnishings.’

Christy stared, shocked at the duke, whose cold eyes surveyed her. ‘I don’t know what fairytale you spun Braybrook,
girl, but if you thought I’d let it pass, then you’re more of a fool than I imagined!’

She stiffened her spine. ‘Fairytale?’ She was going to remain calm and in control of herself. She wouldn’t let him win.

Alcaston’s eyes surveyed her coldly. ‘How’d you do it? Trapped him? A mere compromising situation? Or did you play your only trump card?’ He gave her a measuring look. ‘I dare say that’s it, isn’t it? You let him swive you.’

She said nothing. She didn’t care what he thought of her, and it would have made no difference anyway.

‘I nearly let it go,’ he told her. ‘After all, if he’s fool enough to marry a girl without connections or a penny to her name, let alone one who’ll let him bed her, then he deserves what he gets.’

‘So why are you here, sir?’ She was mildly surprised to discover she felt very little for him.

A harsh laugh escaped him. ‘Couldn’t do it, could I? Couldn’t let a man pollute his line when I could stop it!’

Once those words would have hurt. She would have felt rage. Shame. Now there was only emptiness. She could not think of him as her father. His seed had gone into her making, but she felt nothing. Not even regret for the void.

‘And how will you stop it? Stand up in church and denounce me?’ she suggested. ‘It’s hardly in keeping with your policy of discretion.’

His face mottled. ‘I won’t need to, girl. I’ll give you one chance—tell him you’ve changed your mind. Break the betrothal quietly and I’ll settle some money on you. Otherwise I’ll tell him the truth myself and you’ll get nothing!’

He thought she had deceived Braybrook. Lied by omission.

‘You may go to hell, sir,’ she told him.

For a speeding instant he looked stunned. He recovered swiftly. ‘Words, girl! Do you think he’ll marry you once he knows the truth?’

‘What truth, your Grace?’ came a cool voice.

Alcaston swung around. Christy’s breath caught. Braybrook stood in the doorway. Tall, dark and somehow menacing. The
planes of his face were hard and cold, the brilliant eyes fixed on the duke. He strolled forward. ‘I do beg your pardon, your Grace.’ The urbane voice belied the chill in his gaze. ‘I am at a loss to understand why my butler should have shown you in here rather than bringing you to me. Most improper of him since Miss Daventry is not yet mistress of Amberley and Lady Braybrook is out.’

There was a pause. To Christy’s amazement Alcaston looked chagrined. Even diminished.

‘I believe I indicated to your man that I wished to see—that is, that I—’ He broke off, jaw working. ‘No matter,’ he growled.

Braybrook’s cold gaze never wavered and Christy was torn between admiration and horror. Alcaston was a
duke
, for pity’s sake! Had Braybrook taken leave of his senses?

He spoke again. ‘Obviously you read my letter at last. I dare say you were eager to wish Miss Daventry happy. I hope I see you well?’

Alcaston recovered the use of his tongue. ‘Aye. I’m well enough,’ he snapped. ‘And I read your letter three weeks ago! You’re damned lucky I decided to do something about it in the end!’

Braybrook raised his brows. ‘Do something?’ He reached Christy and took her hand, setting it on his arm, covering it with his other hand in a heart-shakingly protective gesture. ‘I have already made a generous settlement on Miss Daventry, but of course if you wish to see the documents—’

‘The devil I do!’ growled Alcaston. ‘I’d like to speak to the girl alone, if you please, Braybrook!’

‘I don’t please,’ said Braybrook quietly. ‘And you will mind your language in front of Miss Daventry,’ he added.

Alcaston’s jaw worked. ‘Mind my—’ He looked at Christy and his eyes hardened. ‘Very well. I offered her a chance, but only to spare your feelings. I don’t know what lies she’s told, Braybrook, but she’s no more fit to marry a man of rank than is a mongrel bitch. The truth is, she’s a bastard. Her mother was my mistress. Sorry to be the one to break it to you, but—’

‘Why would you assume I didn’t know?’

‘Because—’ Alcaston broke off, jaw slack. ‘You
knew
? Your letter didn’t—’

‘I was being discreet.’ Braybrook’s voice was icy. ‘For your sake more than mine, I might add. I assumed your secretary would read the letter, so I referred to Miss Daventry as the sister of your godson. Naturally I am aware of Christy’s birth.’

‘How? How could you have known?’ he rapped out. ‘No one ever knew! Their mother passed as a widow.’

Fury at the memory of the lies her mother had been forced to live sang through Christy. ‘Because I told him!’

The hand covering hers tightened. ‘Leave this to me, sweetheart,’ he murmured. Her heart shook at the endearment.

Braybrook’s voice became colder. Harder. Yet his fingers still caressed hers reassuringly. ‘You see, Miss Daventry was more honest with me than you were with her mother, Alcaston.’

Alcaston’s eyes bulged and a vein stood out at his temple. His face was mottled. ‘You’ll marry her and soil your bloodline?’

Braybrook’s voice lashed. ‘I’ll admit the thought of
your
bloodline doesn’t fill me with delight. But since there is clearly very little of you in your daughter, I’ll risk it. Was that all you came for?’

‘Damn your insolence!’ spat Alcaston. ‘I take the time and trouble to warn you, and you meet me with insults? She’s no daughter of mine, and you’ll get not a penny from me!’

‘You relieve me,’ said Braybrook. ‘Perhaps you might also relieve us of your presence?’ Christy stared up at him, shocked. He had snubbed a duke for her. One of his own class. Under the sleeve of his elegant coat, in the hand covering hers, she could feel every muscle hard and corded. His jaw resembled solid granite and her heart’s defences shook.