The Gilded Web (5 page)

“You could not just have told her the game was up and set Mama to keeping watch over her?” Lord Amberley said wearily. “You never could take the easy and obvious course, could you, Dom? I don't see how I am to get you out of this. You will be fortunate indeed if you do not end up dead with a bullet between your eyes. And you will be honor bound to delope if it comes to a duel, you know.”

“I deserve no less,” Lord Eden said with bitter remorse. “The poor girl, Edmund. I have probably put her through a more frightening experience than I would feel looking down the barrel of Purnell's pistol. Do you know her? I cannot put a face to the name, I must confess. Is she very young?”

“She has backbone, I believe,” Lord Amberley said. “She was not about to show me that she was afraid. And she told me I might kill her before she would beg anyone to pay a ransom for her.”

“I am going to have to marry her, am I not?” Lord Eden said. “I have been trying to ignore the knowledge for the past few minutes. There is no other course open to me, is there? Unless Purnell lays me out cold, of course.”

“That has already been taken care of,” his brother said quietly.

“You mean you have made my offer for me?” Lord Eden asked, eyebrows raised. He looked at his brother more closely, and his eyes sharpened. “Oh, no, Edmund, not you. You have not offered for the girl, have you? You can't do it, old chap. This has nothing whatsoever to do with you.”

“On the contrary,” Lord Amberley said. “Miss Purnell has spent the night in my house, Dom. And I found her and was a few minutes alone with her in Madeline's bedchamber. I will be offering for her. You need have no worries on that head.”

“Oh, I say,” his brother said, flushing and confronting Lord Amberley across the desk. “I can't allow that, you know. You cannot always be taking my burdens on your shoulders, Edmund. I am the one responsible for this mess. I must be the one to marry her.”

“I shall be calling on Lord Beckworth after luncheon,” Lord Amberley said, a note of finality in his voice, “regardless of your plans, Dom. Now, if you will excuse me, I shall go and shave and tidy myself. My clothes were very hastily donned before I came down here.”

“Lord Beckworth!” Lord Eden said. “She isn't Beckworth's daughter, is she? Good God, I wouldn't like to cross that character. But I seem to have done just that, don't I? I'm not sure I'll particularly enjoy crossing swords with the brother either, if it comes to that. And Miss Purnell, Edmund—is she pretty?”

“Quite remarkably lovely, I would guess, when she is properly groomed,” Lord Amberley said from the doorway as he let himself out of the room.

I
T IS THE MOST RIDICULOUS NOTION I EVER heard,” Alexandra said. “I am all but betrothed to his grace, James. Why did you not simply tell the earl that? How can he possibly think of paying his addresses to me? You should have told him that the idea was quite out of the question.”

“He is doing the honorable thing, Alex,” James said. “You were compromised last night, and though I hope that somehow you can avoid this marriage, I must respect his willingness to do what is right.”

“But Papa will not agree to let him speak with me. Will he? Mama? I will be mortified beyond all speech if I have to face him again. I had hoped never to have to do so.”

“I do not see quite how your father can say no under the circumstances,” Lady Beckworth said. She looked troubled. “If only you had not gone wandering outside on your own, Alexandra. You know that it was not at all the proper thing to do. Papa is going to be very angry with you, and with me too for not keeping a closer eye on you.”

“It was not your fault, Mama.” Alexandra got to her feet and paced restlessly to the window of her mother's sitting room. Her father had been called away by the arrival of the Earl of Amberley even before they had risen from the luncheon table. That was the first she had known of the earl's plan to offer her marriage. Nanny Rey had fussed her into bed as soon as they had arrived home that morning, and she had been there ever since.

“You said it was all a mistake, James,” she said, turning back to her brother, who stood close to the door, his hands clasped behind his back. “Lord Eden had intended to kidnap his sister. I cannot imagine why he would have wished to do such a thing, but it is really a matter between them. The point is that he meant me no harm. And no real harm was done except that I spent an uncomfortable and rather anxious night. Surely a simple apology will do? But from Lord Eden, not the earl. What do you think, Mama?”

“I just wish you had come and told me that you were not going with Deirdre, Alexandra,” Lady Beckworth said. “Then I could have sent James in search of you, and we would have been saved from all this inconvenience.”

Alexandra's eyes widened as a knock at her mother's door heralded the arrival of a footman with the request that she attend her father in the salon.

“I do not wish to see Lord Amberley,” she said, looking pleadingly at her brother.

He looked sympathetic. “I'm sorry, Alex,” he said. “I don't think the meeting can be avoided. Just remember that you have done nothing wrong and have nothing to be ashamed of. Leave the talking to him.”

“You must not keep Papa waiting,” Lady Beckworth said nervously. “You know how very strict he is about promptness, Alexandra.”

James Purnell crossed the room impulsively to his sister's side and held out his arm for hers. He looked unsmilingly down at her. “I'll take you downstairs,” he said. “Damn the Earl of Amberley and his brother anyway. I beg your pardon, Mama. Effete aristocrats, both. And a sister who flaunts her beauty before the
ton
and flirts with all and sundry. Refuse him, Alex. To hell with him and his notions of honor.” He did not apologize for the last blasphemy, as they had already passed beyond Lady Beckworth's hearing.

H
E HAD BEEN MISTAKEN
in his guess, Lord Amberley saw as soon as Miss Purnell entered the salon. She was not as lovely as he had thought. He had seen her on a bed, her long and shapely legs fully exposed to his view, her face flushed, her dark eyes huge with bewilderment and embarrassment and well-concealed fright. And her dark hair had been in luxuriantly disordered curls about her face and shoulders. It had been the setting and the circumstances that had given the impression of extraordinary beauty.

She stood inside the door now, looking at her father, a rather tall, slender woman who held herself very straight. Her hands were clasped quietly before her. She wore a day dress of brown stuff, well cut and clearly expensive, but dreary in color and unimaginative in design. Her hair was pulled back from her forehead and ears and dressed in a smooth chignon. Not a strand was out of place. She had strong features: dark long-lashed eyes topped by dark, slightly arched brows, a straight nose, and lips that were set now in a straight line. He was not sure how they would look when her face was in repose. She held her chin high. She had a firm, even stubborn jaw. Her face was rather pale.

“May I present the Earl of Amberley to you, Alexandra?” Lord Beckworth said in the heavy moralistic tones that characterized him.

He sounded always as if he were delivering a sermon, the earl thought as he bowed to Miss Purnell. And what a pretty farce this was, the two of them being formally presented for all the world as if they had not encountered each other under such scandalous circumstances just a matter of hours before. She turned her eyes directly on him. Her expression did not relax as she curtsied. She did not say a word.

“I have given his lordship permission to speak with you alone for ten minutes,” Lord Beckworth continued. “It would be advisable, Alexandra, to consider well what it befits you to do for the honor of yourself and your family. I will wish you to remain in this room afterward, as I have a few words to say to you myself.”

Miss Purnell dropped her eyes for the first time, Lord Amberley noted. But she raised them again almost immediately and looked at her father. “Yes, Papa,” she said. They were her first words.

She did not move when Lord Beckworth left the room. Neither did Lord Amberley. He continued to stand with his back to the long windows, his hands behind him. Miss Purnell was looking at him quite steadily and calmly.

“Might I inquire after your health, ma'am?” he asked. “I will not insult you by saying that I hope you have recovered from your ordeal. I am sure you have not. But I hope that you have not taken any particular harm?”

“I am quite well, I thank you, my lord,” she said. She had a steady, rather low-pitched voice, he noticed. It sounded quite different from the voice she had forced past dried lips earlier that morning.

“I will also not beg your forgiveness for the dreadful ordeal you have been put through by my family,” he said. “Being a lady, you may feel obliged to grant that forgiveness, and really you ought not. What happened to you is unforgivable.”

“There you are wrong, my lord,” she said. “Nothing in this world is beyond forgiveness, and I understand that what happened to me was the result of an accident rather than malice. I am quite prepared to forgive Lord Eden. I wish you would not take it upon yourself to assume any of the burden of guilt.”

“You were confined in my home, ma'am,” he said. “I am guilty. I cannot make reparation for what you have suffered. I can only humbly offer the one thing in my power to give you: the protection of my name. I would be honored and indeed greatly relieved if you will accept my hand. I would gladly spend my life trying to repair some of the damage that has been done you.”

“You make altogether too much of the matter, my lord,” she said. “You owe me nothing. I thank you for the offer, but I must decline. I am to be betrothed to the Duke of Peterleigh by the autumn. Perhaps you had not heard. I am surprised that my father did not mention the fact to you.”

Lord Amberley looked at the girl for a few moments before replying. She had not moved since she had first entered the room. She stood straight and proud, and appallingly innocent. He was the first to move. He took a few steps closer to her and removed his hands from behind his back.

“Yes, I knew,” he said. “Your father did tell me. The Duke of Peterleigh is a prominent and highly respected gentleman. I can well imagine that you and your whole family are pleased with the match. And if you are rejecting my offer, Miss Purnell, I wish you a secure and happy future with all my heart. I only hope that no whisper of what has happened to you is allowed to escape this house and mine. If my hope is realized, then indeed my offer is unnecessary to your happiness.”

“Why would anyone know or care about what happened?” she asked, her eyebrows arching higher and changing her expression suddenly, so that she looked for a moment like a vulnerable girl. “It was all a mistake, after all, and certainly I was not to blame for any of it. Nor were you, my lord.”

He smiled grimly even as her chin came higher and her face resumed the set, disciplined look she had worn throughout their interview.

“I would guess that you are quite new to London, Miss Purnell,” he said. “Am I right?”

She inclined her head but did not say anything.

“I believe my ten minutes must be almost over,” he said. “Let me ask again quite bluntly, then—no, let me urge you—will you marry me?”

“No, my lord,” she said quietly, without any hesitation at all, “I will not. But I do thank you. It was kind of you to come.”

He inclined his head. “May I ask one thing of you before I take my leave, ma'am?” he said. “If word of your misadventure does escape and life becomes uncomfortable for you, will you receive me again? Will you give me a further chance to protect your honor with my name?”

“No,” she said. “That will be quite unnecessary, my lord. I have a father and a brother to protect me, to make no mention of His Grace of Peterleigh.”

He closed the remaining distance between them and held out a hand. “I will wish you good day, then, ma'am,” he said, “and not distress you with my continued presence.”

He thought for a moment that she would reject his offer of friendship. She looked at his hand before extending hers and placing it in his grasp. He looked up at her as he raised her hand to his lips. She looked quite steadily back, though her color heightened.

“Good day, my lord,” she said. Her voice was low and quite calm.

A
LEXANDRA STOOD WHERE SHE WAS
for several moments after Lord Amberley had left. Then she drew a deep breath and crossed the room to the window.

What a dreadful ordeal! And how ridiculously unnecessary. What could have made the earl feel that he must come and offer her marriage just because his brother had made such a ghastly mistake? And why had Papa allowed him to speak to her when she had been unofficially betrothed to the Duke of Peterleigh all her life? Men had strange notions of honor.

She did not think she would have recognized the Earl of Amberley if she had passed him in the street. Indeed, she had scarce looked into his face earlier that morning, and anyway he had been wearing a dressing gown on that occasion. She had gained no impression of his looks or his coloring or his height—or even his age.

It had been a shock to find when she turned to him after Papa had presented him to her that he was a fashionable and distinguished-looking gentleman. And a young one too. He could not be nearly as old as his grace, and probably not much older than James. He had dark thick hair—though not as dark as hers—and blue eyes. They were kindly eyes that looked at one very directly and appeared to smile. He had a good-humored mouth. He was not particularly tall, though she had had to look up to him when he had stepped close to her. But he was powerfully built. She guessed that he was not quite the effete gentleman of James's accusation.