The Marriage Act (24 page)

“Nothing,” Caro said quickly. “I simply don’t wish to read anything Sophia intended to remain confidential.”

“Confidential? At the very least, I’m going to have to go to her father about this.” He turned to Miss Fleetwood. “And for God’s sake, don’t ever write such things in a letter again. It’s bad enough to think them and even worse to say them, but to commit them to paper? That has to be the very definition of ‘indiscreet.’ Anyone might see this if it fell into the wrong hands, from your future husband to the patronesses of Almack’s.”

Her chin came up. “I don’t care.”

John stuffed the letter in his coat pocket. “You should care. If by some stretch of the imagination I were willing to cast aside my wife, do you really suppose society would turn a blind eye to your taking up with a married lover? For that matter, do you imagine your father and mother would welcome us with open arms once I’d ruined you? Try to think like an adult for a moment.”

Miss Fleetwood’s brows pinched together in an expression of distress. “You don’t have to be so horrid.”

“Yes, I do—and what’s more, someday you’ll thank me for it. It won’t be long before everything you’ve said and done today will make you want to sink with embarrassment. When it does, at least you’ll have the consolation of reminding yourself you were too young to know better, and what’s more, everyone around you could see it.”

Tears pooled in Miss Fleetwood’s eyes. “This isn’t fair! Caro told me herself she doesn’t love you.”

Caro’s face went pale. “I never—”

John cut her off with an imperious gesture. “That’s the second time you’ve said that,” he said to Miss Fleetwood. “When did Caro tell you this?”

Miss Fleetwood’s chin assumed a determined angle. “The first night you were here. I overheard the two of you talking, and Caro caught me listening outside the drawing room door. She admitted the two of you hadn’t been living together in Vienna, and that she was finding it an effort just to be nice to you.”

“I never said that!” Caro said, looking desperately at John. “I might have been on edge at first because I wasn’t used to our rubbing along well together, but I never said anything of the kind to Sophia.”

“She made me promise not to tell her father your secret,” Miss Fleetwood insisted, “or to let on to you that I knew.”

John rounded on Caro. “Is any of what she just said true?”

Caro had the frantic look of a cornered animal. “That last part...I—I did ask her not to tell my father.”

“And to make sure I didn’t know?”

Caro clearly didn’t want to answer him. He refused to look away.

Finally she gulped and replied in a defeated whisper. “Yes.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

I
deny the lawfulness of telling a lie to a sick man for fear of alarming him.
You have no business with consequences;
you are to tell the truth.

—Samuel Johnson

John’s voice was devoid of emotion. “I see.”

Caro’s heart sank. The clipped sentences and coldness were back. “I was going to tell you, truly I was. I was about to confess everything earlier today, but we were interrupted.”

“Is that so?” John said in a tone that really meant
How dare you lie to me even now.

Caro wheeled on her cousin with a feeling of betrayal. “Why, Sophia? Why are you so determined to make trouble?”

Sophia flashed out, “If John means to go to my father with my letter, I don’t see why I should have to help you get away with painting yourself the perfect wife and daughter.”

“Are you that jealous of me?”

“I’m not jealous. I just don’t think it’s fair for you to pretend to be so wonderful when you’re anything but. Uncle Matthew should know what’s really going on here.”

At the threatening note in her voice, panic gripped Caro. “But you promised you wouldn’t tell him, remember? You know how ill he is—”

“I also know you’re not nearly as worried about him as you are about your own perfect reputation. The bishop’s daughter—everyone loves her! When they find out how many lies you’ve been telling, I wager they’ll change their minds about you.” She spun and charged for the stairs.

Caro started after her. “Sophia, wait! Please—”

John caught her by the arm. “Stay here.”

She tried to pull away. “But she’s going to my father. She’ll tell him everything!”

“Probably, but our marriage comes first,” John said in a voice that brooked no argument. “Before you go running to your father, you owe me an explanation.”

Her heart was pounding desperately, but she turned back to him with her best attempt at calm. “Fine.”

John released her. “Let me see if I have this right. Sophia knew our happy marriage was a charade, and you knew that she knew. The only one of us still in the dark, apparently, was me.”

“I was going to tell you about Sophia, but we were interrupted when Ronnie fell down the stairs, and after that I was just waiting for the right moment.”

“Did you or did you not promise me you were done keeping secrets?”

Oh, why must he keep her here
talking
, when her cousin was even now tearing all her careful defenses to shreds? “I did, and I haven’t kept any secrets from you, at least not since I made that promise. Sophia found out about us before then, on our first night here.”

“So any secrets you were already keeping don’t count, and it’s my fault for not suspecting there’s more you haven’t told me?” He shook his head, a bleak, defeated look on his face. “Good God. You’re the most fundamentally dishonest person I’ve ever met in my life, and I had the misfortune to marry you.”

At the word
misfortune
, a different kind of panic seized her. “No, don’t say that. It’s just that I was afraid if you knew Sophia had found out about us so quickly, you would change your mind about helping me.”

“So you were willing to do whatever it took to keep her quiet, including looking the other way when she fancied herself in love with me?” John’s eyes, dark and troubled, swept over her. “What if I’d been less principled, Caro? What if I’d been the kind of man who found the admiration of a willing eighteen-year-old girl too tempting to pass up? Would that have mattered as little to you, provided she didn’t give away your secret? Or if in your anxiety not to be found out, what if I’d begun to return your cousin’s interest, and her feelings for me had deepened beyond infatuation—would it have been of no importance if Miss Fleetwood and I spent the rest of our lives pining for each other, so long as your father still thought you and I were happily married? Is
everything
a negotiating point you’re willing to sacrifice—not just your own truthfulness, but a young lady’s welfare and my honor too, to say nothing of any chance our marriage might have had for success?”

Might have had
. He’d used the past tense. “No! No, I would never have let matters go that far. I really was going to warn you that Sophia knew we’d been living apart. I even told her she was wrong about our marriage and she’d misunderstood how matters stood between us, but she refused to listen.”

“Strange how I’m only hearing about this now.” Funny, amorous, loving John was gone, and cold, disapproving John was back. He stared at her as if the scales had fallen from his eyes, leaving nothing but bitter disillusionment. “You’ve been playing me for a fool this whole time, haven’t you? You’ve never cared about our marriage, and you’ve certainly never cared about my feelings. I don’t believe you even care about your father, at least not as much as you keep insisting you do. All you care about is making sure the truth never comes out, so no one realizes what a scheming, manipulating, black-hearted little liar you are.”

She felt sick. “That isn’t true. I tried to stop Sophia. I told her in no uncertain terms to leave you alone.”

“And when was this?”

Caro said miserably, “Earlier today, before you and I went for our walk.”

“I see.
Before
she threw herself on my neck and told me she was in love with me. Well, that was one lecture that obviously had a lasting effect.”

Caro gulped. So the sarcasm was back too.

“I don’t think you’ll ever stop lying.” Hurt and anger mingled in his tone. “I think you get a perverse thrill out of feeling like a bad girl but looking like a good one, and lying gives you that thrill. I had the notion it was only about the bedroom, that it was easier for you to let go if someone else took charge, but now I see it runs much deeper. You
enjoy
lying.”

“But I don’t,” Caro said, her voice cracking. “I hate it! I hate having to keep track of all the falsehoods, and worrying someone will find me out, and knowing that any happiness and success I pretend to have is only make-believe.”

“Then why tell so many lies, if you hate it so much?”

“Because I don’t know what else to do.” She blinked back tears. “Sophia was right. Everyone here thinks I’m so
good
—the bishop’s daughter, my father’s pride and joy. If they knew about all the selfish, stupid things I’ve done, like trying to make Lawrence Howe jealous and pretending I was in a completely different country for five years...” A tear slid down one cheek, and she wiped it quickly away. “They’d never see me the same way again. And I couldn’t bear that. I never want to know how it feels not to be loved.”

“I can tell you how it feels. It feels goddamned lonely and painful, that’s how it feels.”

Her heart lurched. “No, don’t say that. I haven’t been pretending about our marriage, not since the first day or two. Everything but this business with Sophia was true.”

He waved a hand toward the door. “Just go. Go to your father and see if you can lie your way out of whatever your cousin is telling him now.”

She stared at John in anguish. “I never meant to keep Sophia a secret for as long as I did. You have to believe me.”

“You’d better hurry,” he said, turning away. “You might still be able to fool your father.”

For a moment she was torn—go or stay? But John was too angry to listen, and she didn’t know how much time she had left with Papa.

She went.

* * *

When Caro reached the library, Sophia was perched on the arm of the sofa, pouring out her story to Caro’s father in a rapid, excited stream. Papa was listening with his brow knit, a frown playing about his lips.

He caught sight of Caro in the doorway. “Here’s Caro now,” he said, cutting Sophia short. “Let’s hear what she has to say about this.”

Caro stood frozen in the doorway, her heart pounding. “What has she been telling you?”

Sophia turned an accusing face her way. “Only the truth—that you and John don’t love each other and the two of you have merely been pretending you’ve been living together as man and wife.” She looked back at Caro’s father. “It’s all been an act.”

“Caro, my dear, come in and have a seat,” her father said evenly.

She didn’t want to come in. She wanted to find somewhere safe and private and hide for the rest of her life. But by some miracle she managed to hold herself together and cross the room with her head high, as if she had no cause for worry. She took a seat on the opposite arm of the sofa from Sophia.

“I don’t know what sort of disagreement between you girls set this off—” her father began.

“I doubt you want to know the answer to that, sir,” John said from the doorway. “It’s a topic better left unexplored.”

Caro looked mutely at John. She wasn’t sure whether his appearance was a good sign or a turn for the worse.

“Ah, John,” her father said. “Why don’t you join us as well?”

But John remained in the doorway, tall and straight, never even glancing at Caro.

“Sophia here seems quite upset,” Papa said calmly. “My dear, why not sleep on whatever’s bothering you? You may see things in an entirely new light, come morning.” He looked from Caro to John. “The two of you might wish to do the same.”

“I don’t want to sleep on it,” Sophia insisted. “I want everyone to know that Caro’s been telling lies since the moment she arrived here. Since before then, even.”

“Why are you doing this, Sophia?” Caro asked. “What did I ever do to you?”

“Do you mean besides pretending to be so perfect, then coming here and lording it over me with your husband who’s supposed to be so in love with you, when it’s all nothing but a hum?” She darted a wounded look at John before her gaze returned to Caro’s father. “Go ahead, ask him, Uncle Matthew. Ask him if he loves Caro, and if they’re really happily married. Ask him to tell you the truth, on his word of honor as a gentleman.”

Papa looked pained. “Sophia, child, do you really want to do this—interfere in a couple’s marriage? Call a man’s truthfulness into question?”

Dear Papa—he was trying to make Sophia back down. At the loyal, trusting note in his voice, Caro wanted to bury her face in her hands and give way to sobs. Papa might want to defend her, but only because he loved her too much to recognize that every word Sophia said was true.

John spoke up. “You don’t need to ask me anything,” he said to her father. “I’m perfectly willing to address Miss Fleetwood’s questions.”

Oh, God. Here it was—his chance to be revenged on her at last. Caro dug her nails into her palms.

John looked at Sophia. “Yes, I love Caro, Miss Fleetwood. I love her more now than I did on the day I married her. Coming here with her, spending time in her company, doing my best to make her happy and to look after her—every bit of that was real and from the heart, everything I said and everything I did, on my honor as a gentleman.”

Caro couldn’t breathe. No, she couldn’t ask John to go that far. It was because of her that he was here, and as much as she loved her father—as much as she dreaded having all her pretending and deceit brought to light, and knew how justified everyone would be in despising her—she couldn’t let John sacrifice his honor for her sake.

“Papa, wait,” she objected, coming to her feet. “John is only trying to protect me.” The words came out scratchy and uncertain, as if they were meant to stick in her throat. “What Sophia says is true. John and I have been living apart since almost the day we were married. He took up his post and I stayed behind in England, and all those letters I wrote about my wonderful life in Vienna were nothing but lies. We weren’t even speaking.”

“
Cara mia
,” her father said, “This is between you and your husband. You’ve said enough.”

“No, I haven’t. This is all my fault, Papa, and none of John’s. I knew you were sick, and I didn’t want you to worry about me. John only agreed to bring me here for your sake. We argued all the way, and only pretended to care for each other once we arrived. I can’t let him take the blame for our deception, or force him to go on lying for my sake.”

“I told you,” Sophia said triumphantly. “Everyone thinks they’re so perfect together, but I could see she didn’t give a rap for him.”

“I should have been honest from the start,” Caro said, fighting not to cry, “and certainly shouldn’t have let it go on as long as I did. But I was afraid to tell you I’d been living alone at Halewick. It was my fault John had to leave me there, and I didn’t want to disappoint you.” She looked to John for confirmation.

He was gone.