Family Scandals (10 page)

“Being a second, actually third, son, the only thing I ever wanted while growing up was a commission. When I finally received it, what made it truly exciting was that my best friend and I could be together. We were posted to India together, lodged together, and were assigned to the same company.”

A sadness crept into his tone and Corinna wondered if he was aware of it.

“What happened to your friend?”

Marcus took a deep breath and expelled it in a rush. “He was killed while out on a routine patrol.”

She peeked up at him and noticed his eyes were closed. Was he thinking about Douglas? She held her breath, willing him to continue, and hung on his every word as he obviously relived that day five years ago.

Two days before his death, Douglas had asked Marcus to switch duty days with him. He had met a young woman and agreed to escort her to a bazaar, but the only day she was available, he had patrol duty. Patrols had been stepped up recently because small gangs had begun to make nuisances of themselves, harassing the English population. They were rarely violent, but the occasional skirmish erupted.

Marcus had agreed and taken Douglas’s day so that Douglas could meet his young woman. The day he had pulled patrol duty for Douglas had been quiet. The next day Douglas had gone out in his place and hadn’t returned. His patrol had encountered a small band trying to rob an Englishwoman and her maid, and intervened. The woman and maid escaped unharmed, but the men had been armed with knives.

“It should have been me,” Marcus said now, guilt in his voice. “
I
should have been out on patrol that day. I should have just volunteered to take his day for him, and not traded. We had done so for each other before.”

Sunk in his own misery, Marcus continued.

“I found them.” His voice turned hard, devoid of all emotion, as he recounted how he went out a week later and tracked down and killed the three remaining members of the band. It hadn’t mattered that he could have been killed too. Or that if his superiors had known, he might have been court-martialed. “It didn’t matter. Douglas was still dead and I was still alive.”

He didn’t tell her about the vow he’d made on Douglas’s grave to care for his sister, Amy. Of the promise he made to his dead friend not to let anything happen to her. Nor did he tell her of the blow he’d received upon learning he’d been denied even that measure of atonement.

“Why are you crying, Corrie?” Caroline’s voice brought him back to the present, and Marcus glanced over in time to see her brush the tears from her cheek.

Corinna smiled sadly at the little girl. “Your uncle just told me a very sad story,” she replied. Reaching into her pocket, she found a handkerchief and dried her eyes.

“Oh,” she said, looking over at Marcus. “Are you sad, too, Uncle Marcus?”

He smiled at her. “A little,” he replied solemnly. “I shouldn’t have told Corrie such a sad story. How should I make it up to her?”

Caroline cocked her head to one side, considering the question for a moment. “You could give her a hug. That always makes me feel better when I’m sad.”

Marcus watched Corinna’s eyes widen as she absorbed Caroline’s suggestion. Her hands were clasped tightly together in her lap, the knuckles showing white.

“Or, you could buy her a pretty ribbon,” Caroline continued. “That always makes me happy.”

Marcus laughed as Corinna blushed and ducked her head, discomfort radiating from her still frame. “I’m not sure a hug would be such a good idea, so what color should the ribbon be?”

“Blue or gold,” she answered. “Blue, because it’s her favorite color, or gold, because Mama says that gold looks very pretty in her hair.”

Marcus studied the bent head beside him. He had yet to see her without a head covering of some sort, so he couldn’t gainsay that argument. But suddenly he wanted to. And it surprised him how much.

Chapter Six

With my mother’s death, I anticipate returning to my post by the first week of August.

Miss Lydia Kendall to Felicia, Duchess of Warringham

Felicia stood at the window in the library and watched the scene below her with extreme interest. It had not escaped her notice that, since his return over a week ago and their first meeting, Marcus had spent at least some time every day with the children’s governess. Although often under the guise of spending time with the twins, she was sure his goal was getting to know Corrie better.

In the mornings, he and Brand spent time going over estate business with Boggs, familiarizing himself with his holdings. He had spent one morning at the tin mine, and another at the china clay mine. He had spent time in each of the four villages the estate boasted, speaking with miners, fishermen, curates and tavern owners. Meticulous in his attention to detail, he listened to anyone who approached him, taking seriously suggestions for improvement.

Brand had told her he would make an excellent earl and conscientious landowner. Not only would his father have been proud of him, but Brand suspected his grandfather would have been as well. Felicia was happy for him.

She smiled now as Marcus and Corinna turned a corner around a hedge and were lost from sight. It didn’t matter. Marcus was a gentleman, and she knew Miss Camden had not encouraged him. Marcus, however, was like his brother. His attention could not be diverted if he did not want it to be, and the governess had caught his attention.

Things might work out wonderfully for Miss Camden after all. Lifting her hand, she scanned the letter she held. Miss Kendall hoped she would be returning to them by the end of next week. Her mother had breathed her last, and once she finished making arrangements, and tying up the loose ends of her mother’s life, she would join them at St. Ayers.

And Eliza, Marcus and Brand’s sister, was due to arrive at about the same time. She wasn’t sure Marcus would appreciate having his entire family watching his every move with Miss Camden, but it was either that or do something rash before his sister and her family arrived. And somehow she couldn’t see that happening.

Turning away from the window, she quit the room and headed back to the parlor, where she had left Michael and Caroline.

She might have nowhere to go and little to do, but Felicia firmly believed Miss Camden needed the afternoons off she had been allotted, so Felicia had insisted she take them anyway. Until Marcus had arrived, she usually walked down to the beach or cove and took a book to read.

“I’m sure you have better things to do than squander your time with me, my lord,” Corinna was saying to Marcus, although she was secretly flattered by his attention. Wanting to spend time getting to know him was one thing, but, as the governess, she knew she should not encourage him.

They were back at one of her favorite spots in the topiary, the bench beneath the elephant that looked out over the sea.

Marcus looked down at her as she settled herself on the bench. “Who says I’m squandering my time?”

“I do,” she responded primly. “It is one thing when you are with Michael and Caroline, but quite another when you deliberately seek me out alone.”

“Caroline has been talking, has she?”

Corinna looked up at him, taking in the dark frock coat, somber gray and black striped waistcoat over a white linen shirt, cravat, and dark trousers. Standing with one foot propped on the bench, his dark eyes regarded her with no little interest. A shiver of awareness rippled through her.

“About what?”

“Us,” he answered. When she merely looked at him with a question in her eyes, he shrugged nonchalantly and said, “She asked me if I liked you.”

Corinna told herself she should not be surprised. Caroline was her fervent champion. After the wardrobe episode, she should not be astonished to learn Caroline was looking out for her.

“In fact, she asked, no demanded to know, if I was going to marry you.”

Corinna felt the blood flooding her face and dropped her eyes to her lap. For a moment, longing, sharp and insistent, lanced through her with the force of a lightning bolt.

“She would,” Corinna muttered under her breath. She wanted to ask him what he had answered, but couldn’t bring herself to. In addition, she desperately wanted to know if he was searching for her, but had come up with no way to raise the issue without revealing who she was.

He chuckled as if he heard the comment, and when she looked up, she was struck by the way his whole face changed. The corners of his eyes crinkled and the brown softened. His mouth curved, lips parting to display white, even teeth.

“She has said nothing to me,” she felt compelled to respond.

“I’m not surprised, but she was quite insistent. In fact, I wondered if she hadn’t been put up to it.”

Corinna stiffened in indignation at the implication. “I assure you, my lord, that I would not use a child for such a dishonorable purpose,” she said tightly, preparing to rise from the bench.

“Now, don’t get in a lather over it,” Marcus said, exasperation in his tone. “I didn’t say
you
had put her up to it, just that it seemed as if someone had.”

He laid his hand on her shoulder, which kept her from moving, even as heat spread from that spot slowly throughout her body. A small tremor went through her and she clasped her hands tightly together in her lap, looking away as embarrassment painted her cheeks bright red.

What was wrong with her? She had never blushed so much in her life since meeting Marcus again.

“My guess is that her mother did it. Or she said something within Caroline’s hearing.”

Corinna’s head whipped around at that. “The duchess? Why?”

“She has already hinted that now that I am home to stay I need to start looking around for a wife.”

The blood drummed in her ears. Her mouth suddenly went dry, and she licked her lips nervously. Could she ask him? How should she phrase it? Her mind filled with potential questions. Would he think her forward?

A gull landed nearby and eyed the two of them, possibly looking for food. When none was forthcoming, it flew off.

Corinna threw caution to the wind. “And-and, will you?”

Marcus’s eyes narrowed momentarily and he dropped his hand from her shoulder. “No.”

Her shoulders sagged in relief. But she still needed to ask the next question. “Why not?”

Marcus straightened and looked off into the distance behind her for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. A light breeze rose and ruffled his hair. Taking his foot off the bench, he turned and sat beside her, staring out over the water. An emotion Corinna could not define seemed to settle over his broad shoulders, and when he began to speak, his sorrow was almost tangible.

“I’m not ready to marry again,” he confessed.

“Again?” She could not keep the surprise out of her voice. “But…”

His sigh cut off what she was about to say. “No one knows, but I was married before I went to India.”

There was something about the way he spoke that begged her to ask, “What happened?”

“She died.”

Corinna could not contain her shock. Dead? She was supposed to be dead? A thousand questions careened through her head all at once. How? When? Who had told him? What happened?

Corinna didn’t know what to say. Should she tell him she wasn’t dead? Perhaps he had misunderstood what he had been told? What if he had gone to Houghton Hall and Gregory had told him she was gone, and he had misinterpreted? What if…? Her head spun with questions and she knew she had to say something or she would scream.

“I’m sorry,” she said carefully. “It must be difficult.”

Marcus made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort. “It should no longer be,” he said tautly. “It’s been five years.”

“H-how did she…?” Corinna could not bear to say the word. Five years! These past five years he had thought her dead. There had never been any letters that hadn’t reached her. He didn’t have someone out looking for her.

“Die?” The air between them was suddenly still. “A carriage accident—along with her parents.”

Corinna had to bite her lip to stop herself from screaming, but the voice in her head had no such restraint. My God! Gregory! Gregory had written that she had died with her parents! Why? And why did he write to Marcus?

“I found out only because I received the letter meant for Douglas.” She forced herself to turn and look at him as he continued. “He was already dead by the time the letter arrived, you see. And as I had been tasked with writing to his family, the colonel gave me the letter that came for him. Amy, my wife, was his sister. I remember thinking it was a blessing that he was already dead. That letter would have killed him. His mother and sister were everything to him.”

The anguish in his face nearly prompted her to confess, but how could she tell him without proof? She had it. It was upstairs in her room off the nursery. His ring and the vicar’s note. But would he credit it if he believed her dead? Of course he would. How else would she have it, otherwise? Besides, she could answer any questions he might ask. But now, she sensed, was not the time.

Another light gust of wind rustled through the topiary. Although it wasn’t very cold, she shivered.