Bound By Temptation (23 page)

She turned more fully to Violet and caught the edge of a knowing look. “I do mean it,” she continued. “Despite your own qualms about him, he is always trying to act in the best way he can. It is merely that he cares too much sometimes, I believe.”

Even as she spoke she saw him. He had entered the room from the doors leading to the long gallery and stood surveying it like a hawk looking for prey. His eyes locked on her, and she knew she was his target. From across the room she could feel the pull of his glance. Her feet turned toward him of their own accord. Her toes curled under as she fought not to walk toward him, to resist the powerful draw.

“If you think so highly of him, then why do you refuse his offer to make you an honest woman?” Violet’s question caught Clara off guard as she stared back at Masters.

It still felt as if he’d cast a rope across the room and caught her tight. It pulled ever harder, until she felt that she had no choice but to follow.

“I can see I’ll talk no sense into you now.” Violet’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “I’ll call in the morning and we can discuss this matter in great detail. I may be unsure of my own feelings for my brother, but there is little choice for you.”

Clara lost the meaning of Violet’s words as she saw Miss Thompson approach Masters and
watched as the daring young miss pushed him backward through the doors from which he had just arrived.

“You’ll have to marry me now,” Miss Thompson demanded as he found himself bodily pushed back into the long gallery. He would not have thought such a slight thing could be so strong. Resisting would, of course, have been no difficulty, but he didn’t want to risk more of a scene than was already being caused.

“There is already talk about us. We cannot be alone.” He shoved a foot in the door before it could close. He was six inches of open space away from compromising a second woman for the night.

“That is why we must wed.”

“But it was not you.” He could only stare at her as if she had gone slightly insane.

“I know that and you know that, but nobody else seems to.” Miss Thompson tried to reach around him to grab the door handle.

He didn’t care how hard she tugged it. His foot was not moving. “I do believe that we are not the only ones who know.”

She shook her head. “Of course I realize that. But it doesn’t matter. You must marry me. My reputation has been ruined.”

He did feel a gasp of responsibility. If he had not allowed their names to be publicly linked, then she would never have been suggested as his partner. “I do apologize for that, but I assure you that it will be quickly realized that you were not involved.
I understand the gossip all involves a brunette. I do not believe that anybody could mistake your golden locks.”

His remark did not please her. Her brows drew together and she glared, her eyes colder than a January sea. “It was Lady Westington then. I should have guessed that she would never have been so helpful in arranging our match if she did not have her own motivations. She was clearly angling for this all along.”

“I can only assure you that she did all in her power to ensure that you and I became better acquainted.” It was the truth. Clara had worked hard to find him the bride he thought he wanted. If only he had realized sooner what it was, who it was that he truly did want.

“Does everything in her power include fucking you every chance she got?” There was true anger in Miss Thompson’s voice.

He could only stare at her. He had never even heard a woman use such language before. Clara might be provocative, but she was never vulgar. “I have not said that it was Lady Westington.”

“You don’t need to, and even if it was not I don’t care. You are supposed to marry me. You were going to ask me tonight.”

The worst thing was that he couldn’t deny it. He had been going to ask her. “I can only offer you my most humble apologies.”

“No, that is not all you can do. You can ask me to wed you as you indicated you would.” Miss Thompson kept her voice down, but it still felt as
if she were screaming. He would have felt anger in return were it not for the clear sign of unshed tears in her eyes. “I will not be left behind for some brazen strumpet. The whole world knows of her and her lovers. I can’t believe I ever thought she might be a decent woman, a lady.”

“I can assure you that she is every bit a lady.” It was easy to lose sympathy quickly when she spoke like that about Clara.

Miss Thompson drew herself to her full height, almost reaching his nose. “Well, if you want to keep her that way, I suggest we set a date soon. It will still any rumors that it was she in the library, and once we are wed my own reputation will be restored. I will let it be known how in love we are and that we could not wait. Of course, our engagement will have actually taken place earlier in the garden. I am sure your sister Lady Carrington will support our story. Should we not become engaged, however, I fear that the rumors about Lady Westington may be quite vicious. That would be such a pity, wouldn’t it?”

Yes, it could be very hard to feel sympathy.

C
lara lay in her bed, a pillow over her face. She could not remember having lived through a worse night. The night after Michael had died had been a nightmare, but there had been an emotional numbness that had blocked her from the worst of reality.

Last night had not been like that. If anything, the world had moved slower, every detail clear. There had been no pointed comment, no cut direct, but everyone had given her that second glance or moved to avoid contact with her. Judgment might not have been rendered, but it was clearly not far off.

She had lived on the edge of scandal for years, and had thought she could handle it with grace. There was, however, a great difference between almost a scandal and being caught in the thick of it.

And her pregnancy was not even known. There would be no way she could keep the child with her now. Her hand dropped to her stomach. She still could not feel the baby move within her, but she was ever more conscious of its presence.

She needed to act for both of them.

And then there was Robert. The date of his wedding to Jennie was finally set and Lord Darnell seemed pleased. How would he act when he heard what had happened?

If she didn’t marry Masters, her world as she knew it was done. Last night she had spoken of choice, but in truth there was very little.

She could move to the far north or even to the Americas. She could use a different name and pretend the baby belonged to a deceased husband. Money, of which thankfully she had plenty, could solve many problems. But life as she knew it would be over.

Or she could marry Masters.

Her belly knotted at the thought.

In so many ways, it was everything that she wanted.

But in even more ways, it was not.

He would never see her as his equal if they came together in these circumstances. In all else she had held her own with him, given as good as she got.

Now she would be in his debt. He, the man, could survive this. It might even enhance his reputation.

She could not.

But did she have a choice?

In truth, no, she did not.

Throwing the pillow across the bed, she pushed up on her elbows and stared across her bedroom. The feminine, comforting appointments had always given her pleasure. Now they seemed to mock her, demonstrating all she had that was lost.

Masters’s house was distinctly dour. It was hard to imagine how she could make it a home.

She was whining.

And of all the things she had been in her life, a whiner was not one of them.

She swung her feet off the edge of the bed and stood on the cold floor. A good splash of icy water and she’d put herself to rights.

Violet had said she would call this morning, and while a morning call normally did not actually mean before noon, Clara had a feeling that in this case it did.

She picked a cloth from the basin and began to scrub her face. Somehow, she would make this all work. She might have no choice, but that didn’t mean she had no power.

She would make her own decisions in her own way. She didn’t need Violet’s help or anybody else’s.

Masters strode across his study. His agent had sent the latest accounts down from his estates. He stared at the pages of figures, trying to make sense of them.

He needed distraction—distraction from the decisions he had to make.

Damn, the situation had been difficult enough before Miss Thompson had made her demands. Now it was impossible.

Why the bloody hell couldn’t Clara have just agreed to marry him at the beginning? It had not been an elegant or thought-out proposal, but it had been sincere.

He had been slow in realizing what he wanted, but from the moment he had not asked Miss Thompson to marry him, he had been definite.

Clara was it. Clara or nobody.

Only now the world had tilted.

Clara did not wish to marry him, despite facing certain disgrace if she did not. Did she really find him so distasteful?

No, she was just being stubborn, refusing to see what should have been plain and simple.

Numerous curses ran through his mind as he considered just how wrongheaded she was being.

If only she were here to argue with him, to make him understand her reasoning. Then he could have tried to fight it, to make her see why his way was so sensible, so right for both of them.

“If you stare any harder at that portfolio, you’re going to burn a hole right through it.” Violet’s voice sounded from the doorway.

He turned toward her with a scowl that softened immediately as he saw the concern deeply etched in her expression. “Good morning, sister.”

“I don’t see what’s good about it.” She took the thought from his mind, making no pretense at social niceties.

He raised a brow.

“Oh, don’t even think of looking at me like that,” she exclaimed. “You know as well as I why it is a horrid day. I’ve just been to see Clara and been told she is not receiving. She has never refused me before. She knew why I wanted to see her.”

“Perhaps that’s why she refused. She certainly
has a mind of her own.” He felt his own mood darken at the thought. Clara was in need and he could not help, or she would not accept the help that he could offer. Only his failure to find Isabella had ever left him feeling so powerless. And even there he had his own shameful motivations and fears.

Now he did not. Even his personal feeling and desire for marriage to Clara were secondary to his desire to spare her.

He clenched his fists in frustration. “Why can’t she let me help her?”

“By agreeing to marry you?” Violet asked it as a question, but it was not.

“Yes, what other way is there?”

“I don’t know, but have you truly tried to find one? I have considered saying that Clara was with me the entire time, but there are too many who could gainsay it. Could you say that you were with somebody else? I would hate to smear another reputation, but surely there must be somebody.”

“Miss Thompson is more than willing to fill the role.”

“Miss Thompson? I did hear a rumor last night—it is possible. But that would mean—”

“Marriage—and not to Clara.”

“Yes. You have clearly considered Miss Thompson as a potential bride over the last weeks. How do you feel about her now?”

He considered the cold, calculating girl who had confronted him last night. He had given her reason to believe his intentions serious, but nothing could
have excused her behavior, her implied threat to Clara. “I cannot countenance spending my life with her. I had already decided that it was an impossibility before everything happened last night.”

“But would you consider it for Clara?” Violet asked. “It will not remove all scandal from her name, but it will allow her a pretense of respectability.”

The question was not unexpected. He had spent half the night debating the same question. He had forced it from his mind this morning—not wanting to face the truth—but there it was.

What was he really willing to do for Clara?

Clara had spoken of choices, and now here was his.

Would he willingly marry Miss Thompson to save Clara? Less than twenty-four hours previously he had been ready to propose to the girl. Why did it seem so unimaginable now?

“I see you waver, dear brother.” Violet’s tone was faintly mocking. She moved to the settee and sat. “Aren’t you willing to marry without love for the greater good? Isn’t that what you expected of Isabella and myself?”

“And so we are back to that.” He came and sat beside his sister. “My whole life would be so much easier were it not for that.”

“There is no way to avoid it, not with Isabella gone.”

“And even if she is found, what will happen is not clear.” He uttered the words with little emotion. His mind was so full of Clara and the decisions he must make.

“No, it is hard to know what will happen if she is found.” Violet sounded bitter.

He turned to face her, full-on. “Most of the time I think you forgive me, that we are beyond what happened, what I did, and then—then I can almost feel you change as you sit next to me, and I fear we are back to where we started. Family, but not friends, never friends.”

Violet was silent and then spoke with care. “Most of the time I do forgive you. I want to forgive you. I do understand why you did what you did. I can forgive you for myself, but when I think of Isabella, I find myself angry. When you forced me to wed my first husband, you were young, young and unknowing of the ways of the world, but with Isabella you knew—you knew what kind of man Foxworthy was.”

“Yes, but I hoped he would not be a bad husband.”

“You hoped.” The flatness of Violet’s voice spoke volumes.

“I could never have imagined how it would turn out, what would happen.”

“No, I know you could not, no one could have, but still I cannot forgive you that she is gone, perhaps forever. I wish I could, but I cannot. We can be friends—I hope we have become friends—but the distrust and anger is still there.”

“I do not forgive myself either. I may proceed as if I do, but I always wonder how I could have changed things, if there were other choices I could have made.”

Violet laughed then, and it sounded almost genuine. “Choices. It always comes down to choice, both making them and letting others make them. And that brings us to the real question. Are you willing to wed Miss Thompson if it gives Clara freedom? Can you grant Clara the freedom of choice?”

“Yes,” he said with fierce determination. “I am. Miss Thompson has given me until this afternoon to make a decision. I will tell her yes.”

“You look like you’ve had a long night. I thought you had put such evenings behind you.” Robert entered the room with a wide smile. Everything about him screamed of happiness. He must have just arrived back from Norfolk.

He clearly had not heard of the events of the previous night, events that could ruin his life too.

Clara lifted her head off the arm of the settee, removing the cool cloth she had across her forehead. “Yes, it was definitely a long evening—and not at all in the way that you imagine. And what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in Norfolk with Jennie?”

“Jennie’s here with me. We were married this past Sunday.”

Clara bolted upright. “You’re wed? And you didn’t tell me?”

“Yes, we had the banns read the past three weeks. Everybody knew Lord Darnell had agreed and nobody questioned when the wedding was supposed to take place. We did not want to risk him
changing his mind if that duke he had dreamed of suddenly entered the picture. I am sorry, Clara. There was not time to let you know.”

“And you do not think he will have the marriage declared invalid? He could deny that he gave permission, and Jennie is not yet of age.”

“We did consider that, but the whole county knows he has agreed. You know his concern for the family name. I cannot imagine him inviting the scandal of putting aside the marriage—particularly after we have spent the night together.” The dear boy blushed redder than a freshly cooked lobster.

“I daresay you are correct. He will not put aside the marriage and risk that no one else would take Jennie, not even now.”

Robert knew her well and did not miss the import of those last three words. “What has happened? What have you done now?”

She should have been angered by his tone, but she didn’t have the energy. Even the relief she felt that he and Jennie were safely wed could not put aside her feelings of approaching doom. “I’ve truly made a mess of things this time, Robert,” she replied, and then proceeded to recount the whole sordid story of the previous night.

He was silent for a moment at the end. His face had grown grim, and she was sorry to have ruined his happiness. “I will stand by you no matter what. And I know Jennie will also. But”—and he let the word hang—“you really must marry the man. I have never wanted to push you, but in this I must insist.”

She wanted to argue that he had no right. He had no legal right, but her actions would affect him and Jennie. If she allowed the scandal to settle firmly about her, it would overflow to them.

Even if he cast her off and never spoke to her again, it would impact his acceptance in society. “I know,” she said, rolling her shoulders in an attempt to ease the tightness in her neck. “It is not what I wanted, but I do see what must be done. There truly is no choice.”

“Did my father leave you so turned from marriage?”

“How could you possibly say such a thing?” She frowned as she considered. “You know I had a wonderful marriage with him. We discussed it when I was in Norwich.”

“And yet you are so opposed to marrying again. I do not understand.”

Clara considered. “I loved your father and he loved me. And he certainly loved you.”

“And you change the topic of conversation. I am delighted that my father cared so much for me, but it does not explain why you frown now when you think of him or of marriage.”

“If you must know, I was just thinking that he was not perfect—but that perhaps was not fair. He died so young, and we all need time to grow into ourselves.”

Robert came and sat beside her on the couch. He took her hands in his own. “Do you think I do not know that he was far from perfect? He would not have died if he was perfect.”

“Surely you do not blame him for his death.” Clara felt a shiver of ice form within her heart.

“It is better than blaming myself as you do.” He spoke with absolute surety.

Clara turned to him, feeling as if her every feature had frozen. He spoke of her deepest fears. This was what she had avoided discussing previously. “What do you mean?”

“Do you think I do not know? You explained that you grew wild because you wished to have the fun he always wanted you to. Do you truly believe I think it is that simple?”

How could he possibly know what had happened on that last dreadful morning with Michael? Nobody had been there but the two of them. She did not say anything, but dropped her gaze to her hands.

Robert continued, “I see the fear in your eyes that you try to hide. Is this why we rarely speak of it? You do not need to fear that I know the details, but it has been clear in your every action since that you blame yourself.”