Romancing the Earl Page 20

  “He’s a scoundrel!”

  A scoundrel would not wait for his wife to be ready for marital relations between them. He would not shield her from society until she’d adjusted to her new role.

  Lady Berry squinted at her. “Do you think he loves you?”

  Lenore balked at answering. He’d never said as much, but there were times when they were together lately when he’d look at her and smile in such a way that led her to hope he did care for her. Last night they’d made love, and he’d held her tight by his side, their fingers twined together. Surely he wouldn’t do that if he felt nothing for her.

  Lady Berry drew close. “He doesn’t love anyone but himself, and the sooner you realize that the better for you. He is incapable of complete honesty. Why do you think he chose you? A paid companion, a servant to ladies of higher distinction who would never question him. You’ve no accomplishments of your own, no connections to recommend you, and no past worth speaking of in polite circles. You’re forgettable. A nobody. He doesn’t have to impress you because I’m sure you were grateful for his offer. A woman your age without prospects is easy prey to a charming smile and false promises of love and devotion.”

  “Think how easily you became smitten with Lord Thorne,” Lady Kelly accused. “Scandalous.”

  Lenore gaped. “He did not charm me. He disgusts me! He’s the scoundrel!”

  Lady Kelly glared at her. “Thorne told me all about your failed attempt to seduce him the day you left my employ. You ran from that failure, and straight into another man’s arms.”

  “That is not true,” Lenore insisted, offended. “I left to marry my husband.”

  “How foolish of you.” Lady Berry’s expression grew hard. “You might have claimed a lofty title for your own and now you must live with the consequences. It’s no wonder your name is not to be found on the guest lists of the best hostesses.”

  “I choose not to attend.”

  “You choose? Or is it that your husband decided for you? He must be embarrassed now to be wed to someone of so little distinction.”

  Lenore looked at Lady Kelly and saw her nodding. “You rushed off before I could dismiss you, but I certainly was about to for the shocking way you behaved with a guest in my home. And without a reference, too. And I wouldn’t put it past you to have ruined yourself just to capture an earl.” Lady Kelly turned to Lady Berry. “She was married barely a few days after leaving my employ, you now. I ask you, why the rush?”

  “We were married within two weeks,” she corrected. “That is not unusual when a husband is wealthy enough to afford a special license and we have known each other for years. And a marquess attended my wedding, so there’s no scandal about the marriage.”

  “I highly doubt that the gentleman knew your name until it was too late to leave. Poor man. I doubt the man wishes to see you again,” Lady Berry hissed.

  Lenore gritted her teeth. Lady Berry was striking out at her because of the death of her daughter. “The Marquess of Wharton has called on me since our wedding. He was most agreeable and happy to meet me again.”

  “He sat down at your table for dinner, invited you to his?”

  Well. “No. But we attended a picnic he hosted. A dozen of his closest friends saw me there.”

  “Just a dozen?” Lady Berry and Lady Kelly exchanged catty smiles. “Do you know Carmichael attends Madam Bradshaw’s until dawn most nights? Wharton, Scarsdale and Carmichael are quite notoriously smitten with the place. Your husband is said to almost be a fixture and very popular with the courtesans who perch on his knee.”

  The wind gushed from her lungs. “No!”

  She wished that cry back immediately, as the pair looked on her with fresh pity. “It’s probably where he went last night.”

  “He was with me,” she whispered.

  Lady Berry shook her head. “He goes to Bradshaw’s most nights with friends and obviously has never told you. No surprise why.”

  Lenore became very still. Price did go out, often with friends, and he never did say where he went. Gentlemen of the ton lived by a different moral code to respectable ladies, and frequently visited places where their vices could be indulged. She believed Price was different, but nothing she could say to this pair would prove it.

  Lenore steadied her temper. The women were watching her, expecting her to fall apart at the news they’d imparted. She would not give them the satisfaction of souring her relationship with her husband with vile accusations. They were tying to undermine her marriage and her peace of mind. She would speak to her husband about Lady Berry and ask him if something can be done about the lies she was spreading. “I can’t imagine why you seek to hurt me. It says more about your character, or lack of.”

  “Did he tell you then he professed to love my daughter?”

  Lenore laughed, determined to regain the upper hand. This pair were making up lies on the spot now just to get under her skin.

  Lady Berry smiled, though, and dug in her reticule. She waved a letter. “She believed every lying word out of his mouth. I found this after her death, hidden under her bed. He corrupted her, ruined her. Pretended to mourn her. As if he’d actually cared in the first place. He’s been tupping strumpets at Madam Bradshaw’s ever since the day she died!”

  Lenore eyed the paper but shook her head. “He’d never behave like that.”

  Lady Berry shoved the letter at her. “Read it, and know the devil you married.”

  Lenore shoved it back.

  “Ask him. Ask him about Angela and the others and catch him in his lies,” Lady Berry demanded. “Ask him just how many of his godmother’s victims died because of his carelessness and corruption.”

  “More lies. You need help, madam,” Lenore declared before she turned on her heel and returned to her carriage, taking Hero with her.

  Their walk had been ruined but she could not stay in the park with that pair around. The grooms had their backs to her but turned as she approached. She asked the door be opened.

  Peter rushed forward. “My lady, is everything all right?”

  “Take me home,” she said, and the carriage door was finally opened, the step dropped to let her in.

  Lenore stepped inside, pulled the door shut behind herself.

  Lady Berry was unhinged and Lady Kelly was encouraging her. Something must be done about the pair before their reputation was harmed.

  Although she’d prefer not to involve her husband, she had no choice. He had to know what they were saying about him.

  Lenore suddenly found herself in front of her home again, and she took a moment to collect her thoughts. She should be calm when she told him. He’d take the news badly.

  She allowed a servant to take Hero and another to help her out. Lenore walked up the stairs and through the open front door. She passed her hat and gloves to the butler as if nothing was wrong. “Is my husband home?”

  “Yes, my lady, but he has a visitor.”

  That gave her pause. “Who?”

  “The Marquess of Wharton. They’ve been closeted in the study for the last hour.”

  How inconvenient. She’d have to wait. “Thank you. Humphries, could you take Hero to the kitchens for me?”

  “Certainly, madam. When should I bring him back to you?”

  “I’m not sure. But I will ring.”

  “Very good.”

  Humphries took Hero away, and Lenore debated the wisdom of interrupting their conversation. She wanted to see her husband very badly but with Wharton here it wasn’t the best timing.

  But perhaps they were almost done. Lenore walked slowly toward the study door. The rug beneath her feet muted the sound of her steps and soon she heard her husband’s voice speaking. The door had been left ajar, and she could hear her husband and Lord Wharton talking together clearly. She knew she shouldn’t listen in…but then she heard Lady Berry’s name mentioned, and then Angela’s, too.

  Lenore risked a peek around the doorframe, wondering if he’d had his own encounter with the g
rieving mother. Her husband had his back to her, so too did the Marquess of Wharton. They had removed their coats, as men often did at home, but this was the first time she’d viewed her husband so casually attired. She skimmed her eyes over his broad shoulders, down to his trim waist and hips. He was sleek, her husband. Attractive and desirable. Popular with the ladies, it was said. He also looked very comfortable with his shirtsleeves rolled up. She stared at his arms…

  A black band that encircled his upper right arm.

  “We missed you at Bradshaw’s last night,” Wharton said. “Will we be seeing you there again anytime soon?”

  “Not for the time being.”

  “Shame. The young ladies are missing you terribly.”

  Price chuckled. “I’m sure they are. You’ll have to keep them entertained in my absence.”

  Lenore gaped. Her husband had lovers at Madam Bradshaw’s who missed him?

  He moved, and Lenore hid before she was seen, plastering herself against the hall wall outside the study as he spoke again. “As for that other matter, I’ll have to go see her again.”

  “What will you say to Lady Berry this time? You already swore up and down that you were in love with her daughter.”

  “Exactly that, as I’ve always asserted. I do miss Angela and always will. But I must make her stop her senseless slander before my wife hears what she’s saying about me. My marriage changes nothing about how I feel over the loss of her daughter. I love Angela even though she’s gone.”

  Tears filled Lenore’s eyes when his words sunk in.

  He was in love with someone else, freely admitted it to his friend but never to her.

  Was everything Lady Berry said about him true?

  She peeked through the doorway again. Price wore a mourning band around his right arm. Was it for Angela? He was always touching that arm. Did he always wear it?

  Had he worn it the day they’d married?

  Lenore put her hand up to cover her mouth and turned away.

  “Who’s there?”

  Caught loitering, eavesdropping, Lenore lifted her chin and forced her tears away. She walked slowly back to her husband’s study doorway, though her heart was breaking. “Just me.”

  Gullible, unlovable me.

  She looked up reluctantly. Price had pulled on his coat and had his hat in hand now. “I thought you might have been Humphries. I have to go out.”

  She studied his face, desperate for him to stay and talk to her but what was the point? She knew the truth now of why he’d been so distant in the beginning from his own lips. To Wharton, he’d been more truthful than he’d ever been to her. “To where?”

  “To visit a friend.”

  When he said nothing more, she could only nod and keep her misery well hidden. He was on his way to Lady Berry, then, and didn’t care for her to know about it. How foolish she was to believe their marriage had been improving. That they were becoming closer. Falling in love perhaps. Their marriage was the same as the day it had started. Built on lies, it would never thrive. “When will you be back?”

  Wharton appeared, clapping a hand over Price’s shoulder. “Not for dinner. Your husband and I have some business to discuss and I’m hoping to lure him to the club for drinks later.”

  Her husband didn’t attend his club. He went to a gambling den where courtesans draped themselves all over him every night. She looked for the lie in his eyes now and saw only his smile. How clever he was at deceiving her.

  “I’ll be back late, I expect, so I’ll see you in the morning for breakfast.” Priced kissed her cheek softly. “Don’t wait up for me tonight.”

  Lenore stepped back against the wall and let Wharton stride past.

  Price lingered, though, a frown line forming between his brows. “You look a bit pale. Is everything all right?”

  “Yes. Of course. The same as ever.” Except her heart was breaking.

  “Forgive me,” he said, then laughed. “I’m inclined to worry about you.”

  Lenore did not believe he cared about her at all now. All he wanted from her was to do her duty—invite him to her bed until she was increasing.

  They would remain like this forever. Him with his life, hers always separate.

  She watched him go with a heavy heart, and as soon as the door shut behind him, Lenore put her hands over her face. She’d been fooling herself into thinking they might have been falling in love.

  Only she’d made the mistake of falling for him.

  It all made sense finally. The sudden proposal, their rushed marriage, him always being somewhere else. His lack of interest in taking her with him anywhere. She pressed her hand over her chest, struggling to breathe. She had humiliated herself trying to have a real relationship with the earl when all he wanted her for was to breed with, just like the cattle on his country estate.

  Panic built inside her until she couldn’t stand to be in the house a moment longer.

  Chapter 20

  Price darted into Wharton’s carriage and took a seat. “Thank you,” he murmured.

  “For the carriage ride to Lady Berry’s, or playing along with your deception by lying for you?”

  “Both.”

  Wharton grimaced. “You need to tell her soon and put an end to this.”

  “I will.”

  “You must.”

  Price raked a hand through his hair. “It’s just that everything is finally going so well between us lately. I didn’t want to spoil…”

  “The illusion. For God’s sake man, don’t continue this farce.” Wharton crossed his arms over his chest. “Women always figure it out.”

  “What?”

  “When we don’t love them enough.” He shook his head. “We all think we’re the greatest liars until a man answer one question with a lack of care and bam, there are tears and china flying at you from across the room.”

  “But I do love her,” he admitted.

  Wharton sat up from his slouch. “What’s that?”

  “I do think I love her, after all.”

  Wharton nodded. “About time you let Angela go.”

  “It’s not that I let her go. Not deliberately, anyway.” Price glanced out the window, waiting for guilt but it never came. “It just happened.”

  A smile played around Wharton’s mouth. “Did I tell you that I think she’s good for you?”

  “No.”

  He shook his head. “I wasn’t going to mention this, you understand. I know Angela was very important to you…but she wasn’t right for you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You were too similar. The silver-tongued darlings of society marrying seemed too good to be true. You never argued, never fell out even once. You gave in to her every time she pouted. She was so very young, lacked the experience you needed in a wife for the years to come. I’ve seen unequal marriages like that go very wrong very quickly.”

  Price considered Wharton’s point of view a moment, but failed to see a problem. “In time, she would have matured into the role of countess.”

  “Was that why you chose to marry Lenore then? Because of her age being closer to yours?”

  “I don’t know why I decided on Lenore.” He winced. “I was drunk when I proposed, but don’t tell anyone about that.”

  “Well, I already suspected that anyway. You were almost always drunk for a while there, especially at the time you must have written to Lenore. I took it as a good sign that you chose a wife outside of the ton, and someone you obviously admired for a very long time seemed a good choice.”

  Price studied Wharton, relieved there were no signs of disapproval. “We were friends as children. Her grandmother was employed on the estate. I used to try to get her to play when she should have been working.”

  “You know, she doesn’t seem the type to play very often.”

  “No, she had a hard life before we wed.”

  “Then I suggest you do all you can to make it easy for both of you in the future. Purge the past and tell her of it all
now, before it’s too late. I’m sure if she feels any affection for you, she’ll understand your reluctance to rehash the past. I’m not saying she won’t be angry with you for lying to her. Most likely she’ll throw something at you. Keep your eyes open and learn to duck.”

  Price couldn’t imagine Lenore acting in a volatile fashion about anything, but he would keep his wits about him when he made his confession. Wharton was right, he’d have to tell her, and tonight, too. He couldn’t let the truth remain unsaid between them anymore. The fresh start he’d been planning for began that very night.

  Price exited the carriage outside Lady Berry’s current residence, bid Wharton an enjoyable evening and rushed up the stairs, resolved to put the past behind him at last and then hurry home to his wife to pour out his heart.

  Although Lady Berry’s butler recognized Price, he seemed disinclined to let him in, though he relented when Price handed him a crown and promised he would only be a moment.

  That wasn’t exactly true.

  Price would stay until the air was cleared.

  Word had reached him today that Lady Berry had encouraged harmful gossip about Lenore, saying she was unfit to be in society, and the hostesses remaining in London had listened. He had noticed a decrease in invitations this past week but had thought nothing sinister about it at first, since many were leaving the capital.

  But then Wharton had heard the same from his last mistress, too, and Price had to put a stop to it now before any more damage was done.

  If his wife had heard, she was sure to be embarrassed and angry.

  Price stepped into the drawing room, noticing the house was completely draped in the mourning colors. In the low candlelight, he could make out Lady Berry sitting on a settee, looking down at her hands.

  He crossed the room and stood with his hands clasped behind his back. “Lady Berry,” he said.

  “You always looked angelic in that pose,” Lady Berry murmured. “It hides the truth of your true nature well.”

  Today he wouldn’t be baited, and held his tongue.

  The woman looked up eventually, squinting at him in the dim light. “Have you come to chastise me?”