The Lord Who Sneered and Other Tales (12 page)

“Of course not! I am not so vile a man. And, as it happens, she was not entirely unwilling to run away with me.”

“Who was she?”

She felt him shrug against her shoulder. “Nobody knows.”

“Surely
you
know, as well as what has happened to her. Did she marry? Or did you bury her out on the heath somewhere?”

He threw back his head and laughed and, forgetting her promise, she turned to catch him with a genuine grin on his face. She was astounded to see that his scar had no power to mar such a smile and that his entire face was transformed from that of the saturnine to the sublime.

“Lady Sophie, you
are
an original. No one has ever before posed such a question,” he informed her with a sidelong glance from eyes that still twinkled with merriment.

She could not restrain an answering smile and obediently turned away to stare at the vast lawns before she asked for more. “Then, she is not dead? Of a broken heart? Or a tainted reputation?”

“You make it sound like child’s play, but it is not that simple.”

“But you promised to tell me the tale,” she admonished.

“Yes, I did. I did not, however, promise you the truth.” This admission seemed to dislodge a load of care from his shoulders; she could feel the ease of tension from where she stood, and he now seemed nonchalant, almost carefree. She, however, felt like a child who had been fobbed off with a morsel when she might have had the whole cake. Nevertheless, she could see that he was far more amenable at this moment than any other.

“Very well, then. I have made my choice. I shall remain here on the veranda if you shall tell me the whole of it. I shall not forget myself again and look at you as you speak.”

“It is no longer of any consequence,” he said as he turned once again to rest his side against the parapet. “I can’t say why; I don’t believe I know the answer. As to any other questions, I am persuaded I must keep my own counsel.”

“Then I shall go,” she said, her heart falling as she moved towards the lights and the music, but, once again, he was quicker than she and grasped her by the hand. With a great show of reluctance, she allowed him to pull her towards him though her gaze remained downcast.

“I have wronged you, Lady Sophie. I did not lie, but neither did I tell you the truth. I am astounded that you chose to linger as long as you have with such a villain and wish only to part as friends.”

She looked up at him and saw not a sneer but a frank and disarming smile and eyes that gazed back at her in full sincerity. “I do not believe, my lord, that you are wicked, in spite of the wickedness you lay claim to. It is my decided impression that you have been assigned much depravity on account of that scar. If you should only smile more often, I suspect others would forget it as completely as have I. Yet, how might one expect such a felicitous circumstance when you insist on never forgetting it, yourself?”

He let go her hand as he took the ring from the parapet and enclosed it in his fist. “I mustn’t forget. It would lead to…to expectations the realization of which should prove impossible.”

She laid a hand on his arm. “I, for one, do not believe anything to be impossible.”

He stared down at her white-gloved hand against his black sleeve, then looked up to gaze into her eyes. “If only the world were peopled with Lady Sophies.”

His manner extolled greater intimacies, and she did not hesitate to slide her hand down his wrist and grasp his fingers tightly in her own. “Then I am correct in my assumption that the scar came before the loss of your respectability?”

“Is that so extraordinary? He drew his fingers from hers and donned the ring in their place. “Scars such as this hardly appear in one’s sleep.”

“Yet, if you had no such scar, I am persuaded Society’s collective memory of the incident that created it should barely number one year, leave alone ten.”

“Touché, Lady Sophie! Any man would envy an intellect such as yours. If the deed that sunk me below reproach were the same as the deed that made the scar, I should concede and gladly, but it was not. In point of fact, my injury was the result of a righteous act if you judge me capable of such. Yet, it led to evil as sure as if the Devil were the author of the whole from the beginning.”

“Then the beginning is where you must start.”

With a sigh, he turned away from the house to lounge against the stone wall. “It is not a short tale and is one which the hearing of will deprive you of a triumphant splash into society tonight. Yet, if you wish to hear it, I find I cannot say you nay, try as I might.”

“Why is that?” she asked as she moved to stand, companionably, by his side.

He favored her with a questioning look from the corner of his eye, one that raked her from head to toe. “It is less than rare when a woman grants me the favor of her presence for longer than it takes to execute a Quadrille, leave alone one of such beauty.”

His naked admiration caused Lady Sophie to burn with an emotion with which she had had little acquaintance. It was both exhilarating as well as somewhat distressing and left her casting about for a suitable response. “Handsome is as handsome does, my lord. Those who should shun you for anything as inconsequential as a scar is not worth as much as the time it takes to perform the opening bows.”

He had no immediate reply to this. Instead, he lifted his hand so that it hovered over hers for a moment before he snatched it away and uttered a harsh laugh. “And yet I remain more alone than even Bluebeard.”

Lady Sophie felt his misery like a cloud of ice over her heart. She thought of her loving father and mother, her bothersome but adoring younger brothers and sister and her devoted governess, all who peopled her life with companionship and affection. How should she find value in a single day of her existence without them? Impulsively, she placed her hand over his fingers so that the ring was thoroughly obscured. “Should it be easier, now, my lord, to tell the story?”

He closed his eyes as if pained beyond measure. “I have no use for your pity, Lady Sophie,” he said through gritted teeth. “And I shall tell you naught save my assessment of the weather if you do not remove your hand at once.”

Wounded to the core, she did as he commanded. “There is your ring laid bare for your perusal, my lord. I wish you joy of it.”

He opened his eyes and looked at the ring as if to sear its image into his mind. “You do not know what game you play at, Lady Sophie.”

“I am at no game, my lord. I only wish to see you heart-whole. If that ring holds the origins of your solitude, then why remind yourself continually of what you have suffered?”

He turned his head to stare at her, the expression in his eyes one of misgiving and his mouth pulled taut so that the scar was a white gash in the light of the moon. “The answer to your question is one I cannot abide. Perhaps you might tell me, Lady Sophie, how to choose differently than have I. First, however, you must know whose ring I wear.”

She nodded her approval and, with hammering heart, awaited the beginning of what she hoped should prove the rejoinder of her many questions.

“I suppose you have the acquaintance of Mr. Rogers-Reimann, have you not?”

“But of course! He is a close friend of my father. He and his wife have been to visit my home on many occasions.”

“Should it surprise you to know that he is my younger cousin?”

“Younger? Yes! But, how odd! I had always thought he was of an age with my Father.”

“Indeed,” he said with a nod. “It is his habits that have aged him so. However, he was not always such. He was once a young man, more charming than comely, and, though I had always thought him a bit oafish, well-enough admired by the young ladies.”

With his words, the intricate design of the ring resolved into a double R. “The ring is his, then, is it not?”

He nodded. “He gave it me in payment for saving his life, or, perhaps, as compensation for my wounds.” He ran a finger over the scar at the corner of his mouth in a gesture Lady Sophie surmised to be a well suppressed inclination.

“But how very admirable!”

“Not as admirable as was his saving mine.” He must have seen her confusion and gave her a
wry smile in concession. “He is next in line to the title,” he said with a shrug. “Our national history is rife with those who have thought nothing of doing violence in exchange for consequence in the kingdom. Yet, he threw himself into the thick of the matter rather than leave me to die.”

Lady Sophie felt as if much had been left out of the tale. “You saved his life, he saved yours then gave you the ring, and now you wear it to remember that you were wounded on his behalf?” She turned to face him fully, and he did the same, though he kept his head down in what appeared to be discomfiture.

“Not exactly. You see, my cousin had got himself into trouble. It involved a woman; there is nothing in that to surprise anyone. He was challenged to a duel, and he asked that I serve as his second. The irate husband who challenged Evelyn—that is my cousin,” he explained as he looked up to gage her understanding, “—was ferociously angry. I have never seen anything quite like it. They dueled with swords, my cousin’s choice as he felt he should have the advantage with his large frame and height. Nevertheless, righteous anger lent his challenger strength, and a disinclination to abide by the rules. I knew Evelyn had only moments before he was cut to ribbons, so I interceded.”

“How very brave!” Lady Sophie gasped.

“Not especially. It never occurred to me that my cousin’s challenger should have no care for his actions and would have as gladly split me in two as Evelyn. My cousin was quick to get the measure of the man, however, and fended off his assault until the other second was able to gain control of the challenger. However, Evelyn was not in time to prevent this,” he said with a gesture indicating the scar.

“Oh, how dreadful!” she exclaimed in suitable awe. “But how could this possibly have led to the evil of which you spoke?”

“It did not, not at first. In fact, the incident induced in me a heretofore unknown fondness for Evelyn. He had saved my life, and I had saved his. There are few bonds stronger that may be forged between two men. After some time passed, however, I realized he was better at falling into scrapes than anyone I had ever known. This took some of the bloom off of the relationship as I was continually
required to compensate for his foolishness.”

“But, why should you? Certainly one or two incidents should have been enough to induce a decided intolerance for the connection.”

“He had saved my life when he might have let me die,” the Marquis said, spreading his hands wide. “He could have had my title, my home, my fortune. I believed him to be my friend.”

“Yes,” she admitted, “I can perceive how you might have felt beholden to him. I believe I might correctly deduce the next pertinent point of the story.”

He raised a brow, but overall appeared to be more amused than skeptical.

“But of course it was your cousin who abducted the young woman you spoke of earlier; how could it be otherwise?” she asked, thoroughly convinced the Marquis of Trevelin to be the most noble of men.

He dropped his head and turned the ring round and round on his finger then, quite suddenly, took Lady Sophie’s hands in his and looked up to gaze into her eyes. “How could a young girl just out of the schoolroom perceive truths so many others with far more experience have refused to examine for even a single moment?” He searched her face, his pale blue eyes warm and lively and his lips curved upwards in so pleasing a manner that Lady Sophie felt her heart turn over.

“You honor me, my lord, but how did Society, including my own father, fall under the spell of such misapprehension?”

The Marquis sighed as he gently freed her hands from his grasp. “The only way to save the young lady in question was to abduct her myself. She was perfectly safe with me!” he hastened to add with a sharp look for her reaction and did not continue until he was satisfied her good opinion of him was yet intact. “I had all the details of his intentions as I had been privy to so many times before and with which I did nothing. I determined that, this time, I would prevent him from his folly. Demanding that he refrain from his scurrilous ways was pointless; I was convinced he should only laugh at me. So, I arranged for a letter to be delivered to the young lady stating that the hour of the elopement, as she
believed it to be, was to be changed to an hour earlier. I had his ring and so was able to make a credible fabrication of his correspondence. Then, all I need do was carry her off before Evelyn arrived on the scene.”

Lady Sophie felt the excitement rise in her veins. “How frightened she must have been when she beheld you in the carriage, instead!”

“She was, indeed. It afforded me a splendid opportunity to lecture her on the evils of running off with men, most particularly men such as my cousin, and most effectively, I might add. Once I felt enough time had passed and Evelyn must have given up, I returned her home and released her into the care of her maid.”

Lady Sophie was furious. “It must have been she who caused the scandal about you!”

He leaned his elbow along the parapet and relaxed into the stone wall. “How I should have basked in the glow of your anger at the time. But, no, it was not the young lady who spread the news abroad. In point of fact, no one knew of it for some years, save my cousin who effected a very convincing outrage that I had so thwarted his intentions.”

“Do you mean to say he was not angry, after all?”

“Yes, but the explanation to that query comes later.” He stroked his scar with a long finger before proceeding. “I did believe his anger to be quite genuine at the time and was able to apply the appropriate balm to his outraged sensibilities via a pact: I was to grant him a boon at some point in the future.”

“I do perceive how unwise it might have been to make such a promise to one so unscrupulous.” Her empathetic nature too strong to be overcome, she once again, laid her hand on his sleeve.

What could be so offensive about such an action, she couldn’t say, but he wasted no time in taking her hand from his arm and placing it, very gently, on the parapet after he had first pressed it between both of his. “It was certainly unwise and easily the most imprudent decision of my life. The fruit of my foolishness did not ripen for a number of years, however, when I entered into a betrothal
with a lovely young woman, one with whom I was quite madly in love, or so I believed.”