A Not So Respectable Gentleman?
‘Indeed.’ Brenner joined her.
He must look a sight. Unshaven. Rumpled clothes. Bloodshot eyes.
Brenner searched his face. ‘Are you unwell?’
‘Not at all,’ Leo replied. ‘Late night.’
Brenner and Justine comprised the most complex of his unusual sibling relations. She was his half-sister by his father, and Brenner, now Lord Linwall, was his half-brother by his mother. They were married to each other. Their love affair happened right after Leo’s parents died.
Brenner flashed him one more worried look before wrapping his arms around Leo in a brotherly hug. The others swarmed around him. Charlotte burst into tears and wept against his chest. Nicholas and Stephen slapped him on the back. Even the pug raced around his feet and tried to jump up his legs. Only Annalise held back, but that was typical of her. She was observing the scene and would probably make a painting of it and call it The Return of the Prodigal Son.
Only he had no intention of returning to the well-meaning bosom of his family. He was just passing through, literally waiting for his ship to come in.
‘What are you doing here?’ he managed to ask.
Nicholas clapped his hands. ‘Come. Let us all sit and we will tell you.’
One of the chairs was set just a little inside the circle. That was the one they left for him.
Nicholas leaned forwards. ‘We are here out of concern for you.’
Of course they were. ‘Concern?’ They intended to fix things for him. Take care of him as they’d always done.
‘We are so afraid for you, Leo!’ Ever the dramatist, Charlotte punctuated this with a sob. ‘What will become of you?’ Her dog jumped onto her lap and licked her face.
This was all nonsense. ‘What the devil are you talking about?’
Nicholas spoke. ‘You are spending your time drinking, womanising and gambling.’
He certainly looked the part this morning.
‘It won’t do,’ Nicholas went on. ‘It is time you found some direction in your life.’
‘Some useful occupation,’ Stephen explained.
‘Before it is too late,’ Charlotte added.
It appeared that rumours of his rakish living had preceded him. To be sure, he often stayed up all night playing cards, but he womanised hardly at all and actually drank very little.
Except for this morning.
They could not know of his more clandestine dealings, one that nearly got him killed, and others that skirted the law and earned him a great deal of wealth.
Leo started to rise from his seat. ‘I assure you, I am well able to handle myself.’
Brenner, who was seated next to him, put a hand on his shoulder and silently implored him to stay in the chair.
He sat back down. ‘Do not trouble yourselves about me.’
‘But we do,’ whispered Annalise. ‘I mean, we must trouble ourselves.’
Brenner took on a tone of reasonableness. ‘We understood your need to get away, to travel. It was good for you to see something of the world, but now—’
‘Now you are just drinking and gaming,’ Justine broke in. ‘You avoid the family. You avoid healthy pursuits.’
How easily they believed the worst of him. And how readily they assumed it was their job to fix him.
‘You cannot know my pursuits.’ He gritted his teeth.
‘Oh, yes, we can.’ Nicholas levelled his gaze at him. ‘We have ways of finding out everything.’
Not everything, Leo thought. They obviously knew nothing about his investments. He’d wager a pony that they had never heard of what he and Walker had been through. And they’d never known the real reason he had fled England, why he still had no use for London society.
One after the other they begged him to change his life, to abandon his pursuit of pleasure. They implored him to care about something again, to invest his hopes and dreams in something.
He ought to tell them, but the shipment of goods he was expecting was not precisely done to the letter of the law. Not that it would hurt anyone.
‘The thing is …’ Nicholas glanced towards Brenner, who nodded approval. ‘We have a surprise for you.’
Stephen moved to the edge of his seat. ‘We’ve rebuilt the stable at Welbourne Manor! And the outbuildings. Bigger and better than before. It is all ready for you. Complete with a fine breeding pair from my stables, already in residence at the Manor. Say the word—today, if you like—and I’ll take you to Tattersall’s to buy more horses. If you need money—’
Leo felt the blood rush to his face. ‘No.’
Charlotte piped up. ‘Nothing has changed at Welbourne Manor. Even the servants are the same. Halton, Signore Napoli, Thomas—’
‘It is waiting for you,’ Justine added. ‘What do you say, Leo?’
Leo regarded each of them in turn. ‘I sold Welbourne Manor to all of you. It is not mine any more. I no longer wish to breed horses. And I am not staying.’
‘Leo—’ Brenner began.
‘No.’ He spoke firmly. ‘I do not need help. And I especially do not need for you to tell me what to do.’
‘We are not …’ Brenner protested.
It was no use to explain to them. He did not need them to help him. He did not need anyone. He’d proven it to himself. He had left the country after losing everything, and, almost out of nothing, built a solid fortune. Without a good name. Without top-lofty connections. What’s more, he no longer sought the good opinion of the ton. He’d discovered self-reliance was more valuable than what society thought of him.
‘I refuse to discuss this further.’ Leo kept his voice firm. ‘If you continue, I will walk out the door.’ He softened. ‘Tell me about yourselves. How are you faring? How many nieces and nephews do I have? I confess to have lost count.’
He only half listened as they proudly filled him in on their children, their lives. When they spoke, their faces glowed with contentment and deep satisfaction. They were happy and that gladdened him.
But their visit brought back memories. Of his dreams for Welbourne Manor, and a similar happiness that had almost been within his reach.
Late that night Leo again sat at a card table at a Mayfair gaming hell. Tucked among discreet buildings off St James’s Street, the place buzzed with men’s voices and women’s laughter. Smoke from cheroots filled the air. Disquieting. Smoke always disquieted him.
Leo held excellent cards. Perhaps a run of luck would settle the restlessness that had plagued him ever since his siblings’ visits.
‘Did you hear about Kellford?’ the man on his right at the whist table asked as he rearranged his cards.
Leo lifted his eyes from his own hand without any great interest in Baron Kellford. He’d known Kellford in Vienna. ‘Your turn, sir.’
But the man clearly would not throw down his card before disgorging his precious on dit. Did he have a trump card or not?
Leo’s opponent rearranged his hand. Again. ‘The news is quite amusing.’ Pressing his cards against his chest, the fellow looked from Leo to the other two men at the table. ‘Kellford is soon to be flush in the pocket.’ He leaned back, waiting for one of them to ask for more.
Leo’s whist partner took the bait. ‘Did he engage some unbreeched pup in a game of piquet?’
That would be like Kellford. Take advantage of some green lad in London for the first time.
‘Oh, he did not win a hand at cards, but he will win a hand.’ The man chuckled at his clever wordplay and finally threw down a card of the leading suit.
Leo trumped it.
Seemingly unconcerned with the loss, the man grinned. ‘Kellford is betrothed. He’s marrying an heiress.’
Poor woman. Leo collected the markers he’d won.
His partner shuffled for the next deal. ‘I’m the one who needs an heiress. Who did Kellford find? Some squint-eyed daughter of a wealthy cit?’
‘Not at all,’ the man said. ‘He’s marrying Miss Covendale.’
Leo froze.
No. Mariel married Ashworth. Hadn’t she? Leo spent two years on the Continent, travelling as far as he could to keep from hearing news of her marriage to Ashworth. On his first day in London, who did he glimpse on Oxford Street? Ashworth. He’d half expected to see Mariel at the man’s side. What had happened?
More to the point, why marry Kellford?
The noise and smoke-filled rowdiness of the gaming hell receded, and in his mind’s eye Leo saw Kellford, whip in hand, about to strike a cowering tavern maid from the hotel where they both happened to be staying. Leo had pulled the whip from the baron’s hand and forced Kellford out of the hotel.
‘Come now. I hired her!’ Kellford had protested. ‘I would have paid her well.’
Leo closed his eyes and saw Mariel’s face instead of that nameless girl.
‘Mariel Covendale?’ Leo’s partner leaned back. ‘Men have been trying to win her fortune for years. How the devil did Kellford manage such a coup?’
How indeed.
‘I do not know.’ The gossipmonger shook his head. ‘But the first banns have been read. I wager before the knot is tied, I’ll learn how he did it.’
The fourth man at the table piped up. ‘I wager a pony you will not.’
As the three men placed bets with each other, Leo stood and scooped up his share of the winnings.
‘What are you doing?’ his partner cried. ‘The set is unfinished.’
‘I must leave.’ Leo did not explain.
He hurried out to the street. The night was damp after a day of steady rain. The cobbles glistened under the lamplight and the sound of horses’ hooves rang like bells.
Leo walked, hoping the night air would cool emotions he thought had vanished long ago.
Kellford had once boasted of being a devotee of the Marquis de Sade, the French debaucher so depraved even Napoleon had banned his books. ‘The man was a genius,’ Kellford had said of de Sade. ‘A connoisseur of pleasure. Why should I not have pleasure if I wish it?’
Now all Leo could picture was Kellford engaging in pleasure with Mariel.
A coachman shouted a warning to Leo as he dashed across Piccadilly. He found himself wandering towards Grosvenor Square within blocks of Covendale’s London town house. From an open window in one of the mansions, an orchestra played ‘Bonnie Highland Laddie,’ a Scottish reel. It was near the end of the Season and some member of the ton was undoubtedly hosting a ball.
Did Mariel attend? Leo wondered. Was she dancing with Kellford?
He turned away from the sound and swung back towards Grosvenor Square, staring past the buildings there as if looking directly into her house on Hereford Street.
Had her father approved this marriage? Surely Covendale had heard talk of Kellford’s particular habits.
Or perhaps not. One disadvantage of living a respectable life was being unaware of how low deeply depraved men could sink.
Leo flexed his hand into a fist.
He’d vowed to have nothing more to do with Covendale or his daughter, but could he live with himself if he said nothing? If he’d save a Viennese tavern maid from Kellford’s cruelty, surely he must save Mariel from it.
He turned around and headed back to his rooms.
No brandy this night. He wanted a clear head when he called upon Covendale first thing in the morning.
Chapter Two
‘Do not walk so fast, Penny.’ Mariel Covendale came to an exasperated halt on the pavement.
‘Sorry, miss.’ Her maid returned to her with head bowed.
Mariel sighed. ‘No, I am sorry. I did not mean to snap at you. It is merely that I am in no great rush to return home.’
Penny, a petite but sturdy blonde, so pretty she would have been prime prey in any household with young sons about, looked at her soft-heartedly. ‘Whatever you wish, miss.’
The maid deliberately slowed her steps. After a few minutes, she commented, ‘You did not find anything to purchase. Not even fabric for your bridal clothes.’ Penny sounded more disappointed than Mariel felt.
Mariel smiled. ‘That is of no consequence.’
In truth, she’d not cared enough to make a purchase. She’d merely wished to escape the house and her parents for time alone. Time to think. So she’d risen early and taken Penny with her to the shops. They’d browsed for hours.
Penny’s brow furrowed. ‘I cannot help but worry for you, miss, the wedding so close and everything.’
Too close, Mariel thought.
They crossed Green Street and Penny pulled ahead again, but caught herself, turning back to Mariel with an apologetic glance.
The girl was really a dear and so devoted that Mariel had been tempted to make her a confidante.
Better to say nothing, though. Why burden her poor maid?
Instead she gazed up at the sky, unusually blue and cloudless this fine spring day. Yesterday’s rains had washed the grey from London’s skies. Weather always improved if one merely has patience.
Unfortunately Mariel saw only grey skies ahead for her. And she had no time for patience.
For Penny’s sake, though, she forced her mood to brighten. ‘It is a lovely day, I must admit. That is reason enough to dally.’
Penny gave her a quizzical look. ‘If you do not mind me saying, miss, you are so very at ease about everything, but it is only three weeks until your wedding, and you have no bridal dress or new clothes or anything.’
So very at ease? That was amusing. Mariel must be a master of disguise if Penny thought her at ease. ‘I have many dresses. I’m sure to have enough to wear.’ She wanted no special bridal clothes. ‘If you like, tomorrow we can search for lace and trim to make one of my gowns more suitable for the ceremony.’
It was as good an excuse as any to be out and about again and Penny was a creative seamstress.
‘We could do that, miss,’ the maid agreed.
Coming from the shops on New Bond Street, they had meandered through Mayfair, passing by Grosvenor Square and the Rhedarium Gardens, but now they were within a short walk of the town house she shared with her parents.
If this wedding were not looming over her, she’d be happily anticipating summer months in their country house in Twickenham. She missed her younger sisters, although it was good they had not been old enough for the London Season and all the pressures it brought. At twenty-three, Mariel had seen many Seasons, had many proposals of marriage.
Only one mattered, though, but that proposal occurred when she’d been two years younger and foolish enough to believe in a man’s promises.
Foolish enough for a broken heart.
Luckily her powers of disguise had hidden the effect of that episode well enough. No one but her father ever knew about her secret betrothal. Or her heartbreak. She’d even trained herself not to think of it.
Mariel’s throat constricted as they reached the corner of Hereford Street. She dreaded entering the house, facing her mother’s unabashed joy at her impending marriage and her father’s palpable relief.
Her spirits sank lower and lower as she and Penny neared the end of the street.
When they were within steps of the town house, its door opened and a man emerged.
He turned towards them and the sun illuminated his face. ‘Mariel?’
She froze.
This man was the one person she thought never to see again, never wished to see again. He was the man to whom she’d been secretly betrothed, the man who had just inhabited her thoughts.
The man who had deserted her.
Leo Fitzmanning.
He was as tall as ever, his hair as dark, his eyes that same enthralling hazel. His face had become leaner these last two years, more angular with tiny lines creasing the corners of his eyes.
She straightened, hoping her ability to mask her emotions held strong.
‘Leo.’ She made her tone flat. ‘What a surprise.’
His thick dark brows knitted. ‘I—I have come from your father. I called upon him.’
‘My father?’ Her voice rose in pitch. ‘Why on earth would you wish to see my father?’ She had not even known Leo was in London.
He paused before closing the distance between them and his hazel eyes pleaded. ‘Will you walk with me?’
She glanced over at Penny, who was raptly attending this encounter. Mariel forced herself to face him again. ‘I can think of no reason why I should.’
He reached out and almost touched her. Even though his hand made no contact, she felt its heat. ‘Please, Mariel. Your father would not listen. I must speak with you. Not for my sake, but for yours.’
For her sake?
She ought to refuse. She ought to send him packing with a proper set-down. She ought to turn on her heel and walk into her house and leave him gaping in her wake.
Instead she said, ‘Very well. But be brief.’
He offered her his arm, but rather than accept it, she turned to Penny. ‘You must follow.’
Leo frowned. ‘I need to speak with you alone.’
Mariel lifted her chin. ‘Then speak softly so she does not hear, but do not ask me to go with you unchaperoned.’
He nodded.
They crossed Park Lane and entered Hyde Park through the Cumberland gate. The park was in its full glory, lush with greenery and flowers and chirping birds.
He led her to one of the footpaths. It was too early in the afternoon for London society to gather in carriages and on horseback for the fashionable hour. The footpath was empty. Once Mariel would have relished finding a quiet place where they could be private for a few moments. She would have pretended that nothing existed in the world but the two of them. This day, however, it made her feel vulnerable. She was glad Penny walked a few steps behind them.
Off the path was a bench, situated in an alcove surrounded by shrubbery, making it more secluded than the path itself.
Leo gestured to the bench. ‘Please, sit.’
‘No.’ Mariel checked to make certain Penny remained nearby. ‘Speak to me here and be done with it.’
He was so close she could smell the scent that was uniquely his, the scent that brought back too many memories. Of happy days when she’d contrived to meet Leo in this park. They’d strolled through its gardens and kindled their romance.
He faced her again and she became acutely aware of the rhythm of his breathing and of the tension in his muscles as he stood before her. ‘I will be blunt, because I have not time to speak with more delicacy.’
His tone surprised her.
‘Please do be blunt,’ she responded sarcastically.
She wanted to remain cold to him. She wanted not to care about anything he wished to say to her.
It was impossible.
Amidst the grass and shrubs and trees, his eyes turned green as he looked down on her. ‘You must not marry Lord Kellford.’
She was taken aback. ‘I am astonished you even know of my betrothal, let alone assume the right to speak of it.’
He averted his gaze for a moment. ‘I know I have no right. I tried to explain to your father, but he failed to appreciate the seriousness of the situation.’
She made a scornful laugh. ‘I assure you, my father takes this impending marriage very seriously. He is delighted at the match. Who would not be? Kellford is such a charming man.’
His eyes flashed. ‘Kellford’s charm is illusory.’
She lifted her chin. ‘Is it? Still, he meets my father’s approval.’
He riveted her with his gaze again. ‘I tried to tell him the man Kellford is. Your father would not listen, but you must.’
A frisson of anxiety prickled her spine. With difficulty, she remained steady. ‘If you have something to tell me about Kellford, say it now and be done with it.’
He glanced away. ‘Believe me. I never would have chosen to speak this to you—’
His words cut like a sabre. He preferred to avoid her? As if she’d not realised that already. He’d avoided her for two years.
She folded her arms across her chest and pretended she did not feel like weeping. ‘Tell me, so you do not have to stay a moment longer than is tolerable.’
His eyes darted back and flared with a heat she did not understand. ‘I will make it brief.’
Mariel’s patience wore thin. ‘Please do.’
His eyes pinned her once more. ‘What do you know of the Marquis de Sade?’
Was he changing the subject? ‘I do not know the Marquis de Sade. What has he to do with Kellford?’
He shifted. ‘You would not know him. And I suppose no gently bred young woman would have heard of him….’
‘Then why mention him?’ Why this roundaboutation? ‘Do you have a point to this?’
‘I dislike having to speak of it,’ he snapped.
Enough. She turned to walk away.
He caught her by the arm and pulled her back. Their gazes met and Mariel felt as if every nerve in her body had been set afire. She saw in his eyes that he, too, was affected by the touch.
He released her immediately. ‘The Marquis de Sade wrote many … books, which detailed scandalous acts, acts he is said to have engaged in himself.’
‘Scandalous acts?’ Where was this leading?
He nodded. ‘Between … between men and women.’ His eyes remained steady. ‘De Sade derived carnal pleasure from inflicting pain on women. It was his way of satisfying manly desires.’
Mariel’s cheeks burned. No man—not even Leo—had spoken to her of such matters before. ‘I do not understand.’
He went on. ‘For some men the pleasure that should come … in the normal way … only comes if they cause the woman pain.’
She’d heard that lovemaking—at least the first time—could be painful, but he didn’t seem to be talking about that. ‘What pain?’
He did not waver. ‘Some men use whips. Some burn with hot pokers. Others merely use their fists.’ His cheek twitched. ‘Sometimes the woman is bound by ropes or chains. Sometimes she is deprived of food or water.’
Her stomach roiled. ‘Why do you say this to me?’
His features twisted in pain. ‘Because Lord Kellford has boasted of such predilections. Because I have heard accounts about him. I have seen him use a whip—’
An icy wind swept through her. ‘That is the information you needed to give me?’
‘Yes.’ His voice deepened. ‘That is it.’
She glanced over at Penny, whose expression reflected the horror Mariel felt inside. Penny had heard it all.
Mariel had known Kellford to be a greedy, calculating man hiding behind a veneer of charm. Now she discovered he was depraved as well and that he would likely torture her. Hers would not merely be a wretched marriage, it would be a nightmare.
She turned from Leo and started to walk away.
Again he seized her, this time holding her with both his hands, making her face him, leaning down so he was inches from her face. ‘You cannot marry him, Mariel. You cannot!’
He released her and she backed away from him, shaking her head, anger rising inside her like molten lava.
It was easier to be angry, much easier than feeling terror and despair. She fed the anger, like one fed a funeral pyre.
Why had Leo saddled her with this appalling information? Did he think it a kind gesture? A worthy errand? Would he depart from this lovely park feeling all self-righteous and noble? Might he even pretend this atoned for disappearing from her life and breaking her heart?
He had walked away from her without a word, as if she’d been nothing to him, and now he burdened her with this?
She felt ready to explode.
‘Do you think you have helped me?’ Her voice shook.
He seemed taken aback. ‘Yes, of course. You can cry off. It is not too late.’
She gave him a scornful laugh. ‘I can cry off.’ Suddenly she advanced on him, coming so close she felt his breath on her face. ‘You understand nothing, Leo.’ Let him feel the impact of her wrath. ‘I have to marry Kellford. Do you hear me? I have no choice.’
She swung around and strode off.
‘What do you mean you have no choice?’ he called after her. ‘Mariel!’
She did not answer. She did not stop. She did not look back. She did not even look back to see if Penny followed. She rushed down the path and out of the park. Hurrying across Park Lane, she did not stop until she reached the door to her town house.