Authors: Once a Gentleman
“There’s nothing to explain,” the man said. “It’s clear as daylight what’s happened here. Just look at you.”
Nick kept his fists raised but glanced down at his loose shirt and bare toes. “How the hell do you expect me to look? You got me out of bed, for God’s sake. And for what? To be planted a facer by some mad-as-a-Bedlamite stranger.”
The man growled and lunged, but was held back by one of the younger men. “Easy, Papa,” the
Viking said. “It pains me to say it, but perhaps we should hear him out first.”
“Nothing easy about it, Roddy. This cad has trifled with your sister and he shall not get away with it.”
“Trifled with
who
?” Nick shook his head in confusion. “Listen here, I think there’s been some mistake. You have the wrong house and the wrong man.” He began to ease the group of them back toward the door. “Leave now and we’ll call it an honest mistake. Painful”—he rubbed his jaw—“but honest. I bid you good day.”
He tried to encourage them out the door, but the solid wall of five large, irate gentlemen was not to be moved.
“You admit you are Nicholas Parrish,” the leader said, “the debaucher who took advantage of my daughter last night. And by God, sirrah, you will pay.”
“Took advantage…?”
And suddenly the whole business became perfectly clear. Nick’s somewhat rowdy evening had included an hour or so in the bed of a very willing young actress from Drury Lane. Was she trying to set him up, to extort money or marriage from him? A cold, vicious anger cut through him like a knife. She would not get away with it, the little trollop.
“Go to hell,” he said and pressed forward, forcing the man and his minions back toward the doorway. “And take that hussy of a daughter with you. I’ll be damned if I’m tricked into a trumped-up leg-shackle with a girl who’s no better than a
lightskirt.” And probably no relation at all to this hired gang of thugs.
The older man, obviously an actor in his own right, turned purple in a pretense of rage. “How dare you speak that way about my daughter!”
The younger men—more actors? a whole troupe of actors?—exploded in an outburst of shouts and curses. Their “father” rushed at Nick and grabbed him by the collar. The others surrounded him, pressing against him, trapping him in his own hallway. Nick tried to wrench away from the leader’s grip on his collar, but the tenacious fellow clung like a leech. The man spoke through bared teeth, playing his part with melodramatic relish.
“It cuts me to the quick to think of my girl with such a bounder. Where is she? What have you done with her?”
Nick sneered. “I left her in a pile of rumpled sheets some hours ago. And if you expect me to believe I’m the first to plow that field, then you’re a bigger fool than I am.”
The man growled and pulled back his fist in preparation for another blow, but Nick caught his arm and held tight. The others grabbed Nick by the shoulders, but he held firm to the leader.
“You’ve picked the wrong pigeon to pluck,” Nick said. “If your girl thought she’d landed a plump one, I am afraid I must disabuse you of that notion. You won’t get a sou more from me than I left on the bedstead.”
The older man uttered a sort of howl and the
younger men descended upon Nick in earnest, eyes blazing with fury. His hold on the leader was lost, and both arms were pinned behind his back. It was all he could do to stand upright.
“I should kill you right now,” one of them said.
“For what?” Nick asked, full of righteous bravado despite being seriously outnumbered. “Not falling for your game? For speaking the truth about your so-called sister? Get out of my house. All of you.” Using every ounce of strength at his disposal, he wrenched his arms free and shoved two of the assailants aside. “
Now
.”
The older man held his ground and refused to budge an inch. “This is no game,” he said in an ominous tone. “You will do right by my girl or face the consequences.”
“Do right by her? If you are suggesting a marriage, then you may be assured it will be over my dead body.”
“That can be arranged. But the girl will be left a widow, not a hopeless ruin.”
“That one was ruined long ago,” Nick said. “And frequently, I should guess.”
“Kill him, Roddy.”
“No, let me do it.”
“We’ll take turns.”
“Not yet, boys. We need him for the wedding.” The leader had grown so red in the face he looked near apoplexy. He was shaking with feigned anger. It was a performance worthy of the legendary Garrick. “You will give her your name, Parrish, and
then I’ll let her brothers do with you what they will. And I hope never to lay eyes upon you again.”
Nick shoved the man in the chest, sending him back into the doorway. “Your threats grow tedious, sir. I would not marry your wretched daughter if you put a gun to my head.”
The man looked over Nick’s shoulder. He drew in a sharp breath, and his eyes widened.
Nick turned and saw Prudence coming down the hallway.
Prudence?
Her hair had fallen down on one side and spilled in a mass of tousled reddish-gold curls over her shoulder. The bodice of her dress hung slightly askew. Her eyes looked drowsy with sleep even as they widened with apprehension.
“Papa?”
P
ru closed her eyes tight and rubbed them with the balls of her hands. Perhaps when she opened them again, she would not see what she thought she had seen. And maybe the words she thought Nicholas had spoken were only imagined. It had to be a dream.
“Prudence?”
It was her father’s voice. She was not dreaming. She opened her eyes.
“Girl, what have you done?”
She stared at her father, who looked more furious than she’d ever seen him in her life. His blue eyes blazed, his face burned red with anger. She glanced over his shoulder to see four of her five brothers lined up behind him. All of them looked confused and angry, except for William, the youn
gest, who shuffled his feet in that nervous way of his and refused to meet her eyes.
And then there was Nicholas, who had stepped back and was pressed against the wall, stiff and unmoving. His mouth was set in a grim line, and the expression in his eyes had grown flat, unreadable. He was in a shocking state of undress. Her gaze briefly swept over his bare legs and the expanse of chest revealed beneath the open collar of his loose shirt. Heat flooded her cheeks, and she turned her eyes away to look at her father.
“Well?” he said. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
Pru knew exactly what he was thinking, why he had come storming across town at this hour. But what he was thinking was so ludicrous she could not suppress a smile. Could he really have imagined that she and
Nicholas
…?
“I fell asleep,” she said.
“You what?”
“I was working late, and I suppose I must have fallen asleep. I didn’t wake up until I heard all the commotion here in the hall.”
“You were working?”
“Yes.”
“Then you did not spend the night in this scoundrel’s bed?”
“Papa!” Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Of course not.”
Her glance darted toward Nicholas, who glared at her father as though outraged at such an unthinkable suggestion.
“You will oblige me, sir,” her papa said, returning Nicholas’s glare, “with an explanation for the despicable things you said about my Prudence.”
Nicholas had said despicable things about her?
I would not marry your wretched daughter if you put a gun to my head.
She tried to catch his eye, but he looked away. What else had he said? Her stomach turned over to think that he had maligned her in some way. She had thought they were friends.
Nicholas cleared his throat. “I, um, wasn’t speaking of Prudence.”
“Then who?” Her father’s voice was sharp with anger.
“Someone else. I did not know Prudence was here, I swear it.”
Her father turned his furious gaze upon her. “You stayed late working on that idiotic magazine?”
Her gaze darted to Nicholas. She didn’t understand. He had said despicable things about someone else? She furrowed her brow in confusion.
“I’m talking to you, girl!”
She tore her eyes from Nicholas and looked at her father. “Yes, I worked late and fell asleep at my desk. But—”
“Had it perhaps slipped your mind that you were expected elsewhere last evening?”
Pru gave a little gasp and covered her mouth with her hand. Good heavens, she had completely forgotten. “Oh, dear.”
“Ah, so you
do
remember. How good of you. Yes, your niece’s breakfast is this morning, and Margaret expected you to stay with her last night so that you would be on hand to help. The whole damned family will be there, as you know. And apparently there are a thousand things your sister needed you to do that are not being done.”
Yes, Margaret would be having fits. Her daughter, Arabella, had been brought to Town for her first Season. Before she was introduced to society, there were to be several family gatherings, the first of them an al fresco breakfast at Daine House, Margaret’s London home. And Pru, of course, was expected to be there early to help “keep the servants in line.” How could she have forgotten?
“Oh, Papa. I’m so sorry. I got so involved in my work, it slipped my mind. I’ll just get my hat and pelisse and come home with you right now. I can quickly change and be at Daine House well before the guests arrive.”
“Not so fast, girl. We still have
this
to sort out.” He made a gesture encompassing the hallway.
“What?”
“You have spent the night under this man’s roof.”
Her cheeks flamed. She was thoroughly ashamed that Nicholas should have to be a part of this foolishness. How could her father do this to her? She wasn’t a schoolgirl, for heaven’s sake.
“No harm has been done, Papa. Nicholas did not even know I was here.” Pru glanced at
Nicholas and gave him a shy, but hopefully encouraging, smile. Surely he knew she did not hold him responsible in any way for her own forgetfulness.
“That is of no consequence,” her father said. “Your reputation has been compromised.”
“Nonsense. Besides the lot of you, who will even know I was here?”
“The whole blasted family by now, if I know your sister.”
“What are you talking about?”
“When you did not show up at Daine House last night, Margaret was furious. She sent everyone searching for you, and when you could not be found…well, you can imagine the ruckus.”
Pru rolled her eyes. If they’d paid the least attention to her, they would have known where she was. She was forever reminding them all of her work on the magazine, but she was generally ignored.
“Finally,” her father continued, “when your brother Willy dragged his tail home, from God knows where, at the crack of dawn, he suggested you might have spent the night here.”
Nicholas groaned.
Pru looked at him. He had gone quite pale, and rubbed the back of his neck with a hand. She was feeling anything but pale as heat continued to flood her cheeks. She turned to her brother. “Willy! You didn’t.”
He had the good sense to look embarrassed. “I never meant it like that,” Willy said. “I only mentioned that you sometimes worked late at Par
rish’s house, and if you had not come home, you were likely still there.” He gave a little snort. “I ought to have known Margaret would have a fit of the vapors. She decided you’d been…Well, you know how she is.”
“When your brother was so obliging,” her papa said, “as to reveal that you had probably spent the night in the house of a single gentleman—”
“Margaret asked who he was—”
“—and that no other female was present—”
“Well, you told me, Pru, that your friend Edwina was on her wedding trip—”
“—your sister decided the worst had happened. And so now you’re in the suds, girl. There’s only one thing to be done.” Her father glanced at Nicholas.
“No, Papa, there is nothing to be done,” she said. “It was an innocent mistake. I will explain it all to Margaret.”
“She has already taken to her couch in a flood of tears,” her eldest brother Roderick said. He could not keep the hint of scorn from his voice. They had all experienced Margaret’s dramatic collapses over the years. “Says you are trying to upstage her daughter’s come-out Season.”
“What nonsense.”
Nicholas pushed away from the wall and came to stand beside Pru. “It is not nonsense. It is quite serious, Pru. Your reputation has been compromised, and it is all my fault.”
She wondered if a person could actually die of mortification. “No, Nicholas,” she said, her
voice barely above a whisper, “it is not your fault.”
“Oh, yes it is,” her father said. “And I am glad to hear this
gentleman
admit it. You had no right, sir, to allow my daughter to remain alone under your roof.”
“But Papa, I was only here downstairs in the magazine office, not—”
“It does not matter,” Nicholas said. “Your father is right. I should not have allowed it. My only excuse is that I always considered you one of the family, Pru. I am deeply sorry.”
“I’ll bet you are,” her father said.
Nicholas gave him a challenging look that was quite startling in its intensity.
“But you
will
marry Prudence,” her father said.
Dear God. Her heart thumped so fast and high in her chest, she thought perhaps she really would die. But she could not allow this to happen. She could not. “No,” she said in as firm a voice as she could muster. “No.”
Her father grabbed her upper arm and swung her around to face him. “What do you mean, no?”
“No, you cannot make him marry me.” She turned to Nicholas, though she could not bring herself to look him in the eye. “I will not have you forced into marriage with me. It’s ridiculous.”
“It is not ridiculous,” her father said. “It is necessary.”
“Papa, I am twenty-seven years old. I am no
body important. People will not talk about me. There is no need to force Nicholas into this situation. I will not agree to it.”
“Your family will talk,” her father said. “They are talking already. You
will
marry Parrish.”
“No.”
Nicholas moved to stand in front of her and took both her hands in his. Oh, how she wished he had not done that. “Your father has a point, Pru. If there is any possibility of damaging your reputation—”
“I have no reputation.” She gave a little laugh at the very idea. “I’m nobody, Nicholas. There is no reason in the world for you to have to throw away your life because I happened to fall asleep in your office.”
“Pru—”
“Truly, Nicholas, there is nothing to worry about. My father is overreacting. It is very kind of you to accept responsibility, but it really is not necessary. I promise you there is no need to marry me.”
Relief flickered in his eyes for the merest instant, but she saw it.
I would not marry your wretched daughter if you put a gun to my head.
Pru would rather die, then and there, than force Nicholas into a marriage he did not want. He might consider her a friend now, but how long would it be before he held her in contempt? Before he despised her? It would be preferable not to have him at all than to have him like that.
Though she loved him—
because
she loved him—she would not be able to bear it.
“Are you certain?” he asked.
“Quite certain.”
A fleeting pressure of his hands expressed his gratitude. Her heart contracted with a tiny stab of pain at the knowledge of his relief, but she forced a smile. She had done the right thing.
Nicholas released her hands and turned to her father. “Mr. Armitage, I have—”
He was cut short by a cacophony of huffing, snorting, and choking from her brothers. Good Lord. She’d forgotten he didn’t know.
Of course he didn’t know. She’d quite deliberately avoided any specific discussion of her family. Both Edwina and Nicholas were republicans at heart, had even gone to France in support of the Revolution. Pru had not known how they would feel about her if they knew her background. And she had
so
wanted them to accept her.
Pru began to feel as if the floor sank beneath her feet. If only it would open up and swallow her whole, she might be put out of this misery.
“He is Lord Henry to you, sir,” Roderick said with every ounce of arrogance he possessed, which was a great deal.
Nicholas blanched. “
Lord
Henry?” He glanced at Pru and raised his brows in question.
This was going to change everything. She could tell by the look on Nicholas’s face.
Damnation. There was nothing for it, though, but to tell him the truth. She took a deep breath.
“You have not been properly introduced. Papa, this is Mr. Nicholas Parrish. Nicholas, this is my father, Lord Henry Armitage.”
Nicholas’s mouth had turned grim once again, but he nodded and said, “My lord.”
“And these are my brothers—Roderick, Daniel, Charles, and William.”
Nicholas nodded warily at each.
“Not to worry,” William said cheerfully. “We’re only Misters, not Lords. Not even Honorables.”
Daniel punched him in the arm and told him to shut up.
Nicholas ignored them and spoke directly to her father. “I must beg your pardon again, my lord. I had no idea Prudence was from a noble family. May I be so bold as to ask—”
“My father was the Duke of Norwich,” her papa said, his chest puffed out and his voice dripping with aristocratic pride, “and my brother is the current duke.”
Nicholas closed his eyes briefly. His mouth twisted into a grimace, and he looked as though he might be ill. “Prudence is the granddaughter of the Duke of Norwich?”
“She is indeed.”
“And niece to the current duke?”
“That, too. You see the problem?”
Nicholas nodded. “Lord Henry, may I humbly request the hand of your daughter in marriage?”
Oh God oh God oh God. Pru’s stomach seized up in knots and she closed her eyes tight. This wasn’t happening. This could not be happening.
“No!” Pru grasped her father’s arm. “No, Papa. Please!”
“Not only do I agree to the marriage, sir,” her papa said, ignoring her pleas, “I insist upon it. And you, girl, will do as you’re told. I will not have your odd behavior tattled around the family. Especially now, when everyone is gathering for Arabella’s Season. You
will
marry. Quietly, and before the day is over. Then we may get on more peacefully with this come-out business.”
She simply could not believe what was happening. There she stood, with her clothes in disarray and her hair falling down. And there he stood, the man she loved, half dressed, feet bare, hair tousled, a dark stubble marking his chin and jaw, looking more gloriously male than she’d ever seen him. And he had just asked permission to marry her.
It was not exactly the stuff of dreams. In fact, it had all the makings of a nightmare.
For the first time in her life, Pru thought she might actually swoon. Her knees felt wobbly, her head spun, and she could barely breathe. Someone took her hand.
“I will not allow your name to be sullied in any way, Pru,” Nicholas said, “especially among your family.”
“B-but I heard what you said before. About how you wouldn’t marry me even if a gun was held to your h-head. There is no gun, Nicholas.”
“That is easily remedied,” her brother Roderick said.