A Scandalous Charade (34 page)

His green eyes darkened to the color of a forest on an angry night, and his silence was answer enough.

“I didn’t think so,” she choked on a sob. “You’re not the man I thought you were. And truly, that man was disgraceful enough. Tell me, did I ever mean anything to you? Or was I just another one of the masses?”

But she’d heard enough. She stomped to the door and threw it open—nearly knocking the earl, who stood just outside, to the ground. “Just stay far away from me, Lucas.”

***

Furious, Luke watched as Juliet storm from the room. She hadn’t even acknowledged Robert’s existence. Robert—who was now glaring at him. “We will discuss this later, Luke.” His brother gestured in the direction that Juliet had fled. Then he started back down the hallway.

Adrenaline pumped through Luke’s veins. He really did need to tell Rob what Lydia was up to. The man deserved to know the truth. He chased after his brother and grabbed his arm, “Actually, Robert, I need to speak with you right now.” Then Luke began to haul his brother back inside the parlor.

Robert shook his head. “Something’s wrong with Lydia. We can discuss your attempts to seduce members of my staff later.” He tried to free himself from his brother’s grasp, but Luke’s hold on his arm only tightened with determination.

“I’m not trying to seduce anyone. And nothing’s wrong with Lydia. She’s simply with child.”

Robert stepped backward, apparently stunned. And then he grinned widely and nodded like a fool. “I must see her.”

“Damn it, Robert!” Luke growled. “You need to hear me out first.” He managed to drag his brother back inside the parlor and firmly shut the door. Then he faced him with a frown. “This is important.”

“Out with it then. I want to see Lydia,” he barked impatiently.

Luke took a deep breath. This had to be done.  His brother had a right to know.  “I don’t want you to be made a fool of by your wife, Robert. She isn’t who she appears to be. She never has been.”

Robert furrowed his brow. “What in the world are you talking about?”

“I honestly never wanted to have this conversation with you, Rob. But I can’t keep my mouth closed anymore—not when you’re the one who’ll suffer.”

Robert looked uncertain, and he shook his head. “Can’t this wait, Lucas? I really need to get to my wife.”

Luke harshly rubbed his brow. God, how he hated reliving that night. “Haven’t you ever wondered, Robert, why I fled Staveley’s after Lydia and I were caught together?”

“Actually, no.” Robert frowned. “I just chalked it up to you being you.”

Bloody wonderful!

How nice to know that his brother thought so highly of him. Bitterly, Luke laughed. “Yes, your confidence in me has always been overwhelming. And I’m so bloody tired of everyone always thinking the worst of me.” Then he started pacing. “All these years you thought I’d ruined and abandoned her. But you should know that’s not the way it was, Robert.”

 “I don’t know what this is about, Luke, but I don’t think there’s any question about whether or not you ruined Lydia. Staveley found the two of you together. And really, there’s no point in discussing it now.”

But there was a point, and he had to make Robert understand. With a pained smile, Luke continued, “Oh, I bedded Lydia. I’m not denying it. But I didn’t ruin her. Someone before me enjoyed that privilege.” He heaved a sigh. “I wasn’t about to marry her. Why should I be tied to her for the rest of my life, when someone else had ruined her? But then you jumped in there to save me from disgracing the Beckford name and married the little whore in my stead.”

Robert’s jaw tightened and his steely gaze narrowed in on Luke. “You will refrain from speaking ill of my wife. And because you’re my brother, I’m going to pretend like we never had this conversation. And then—”

How had the highly esteemed and ever intimidating Earl of Masten become such a dolt? “Yes, go ahead and live in your dream world, Robert.”

“Leave Gosling Park and don’t come back, Lucas. Not ever,” Robert clipped out as he started once more for the door.

His brother didn’t believe him? As if he would make something like this up! Luke side stepped in front of Robert. “I’m not done.” He squared his shoulders and pressed on. “It was all an act, Rob. She pretended to be an innocent and virginal. I was completely fooled by her. And let’s just say I’m more than a little dubious about the paternity of this child of hers. I think I’ll hold off on my congratulations, Robert, to see who the child looks like first.”

Robert leveled him with a glare, then he brushed past Luke and headed for the door. “It must be hard for you to realize that you won’t be my heir, Lucas, but I’m sure you’ll get used to the idea.”

He thought he was after the earldom? That was the most ridiculous thing Luke had ever heard. He laughed cynically in response. “It’s not my greed that makes me dubious, Robert, but my intimate knowledge of the Lady in question.”

Robert snapped in the blink of an eye. Before Luke knew it, his brother had wrapped his hands around his throat and growled through clenched teeth, “I don’t ever need to be reminded again that you once shared a bed with my wife.”

The room started to spin and Luke thought he might die at his brother’s hands. He pulled at Robert’s fingers and gasped for breath. “Rob!”

Then Robert shoved him out of the way and looked back disdainfully. “You lying bastard, if you’re still here by the time I finish checking on my wife I will kill you.”

And the look in his brother’s eyes told him he meant it.

Luke stormed off to schoolroom. He had been unsuccessful at getting Robert to listen to reason, but he wasn’t ready to give up on Juliet. He threw open the door, only to find his princess speaking quietly to her two charges—both of whom had bit of lemon cake stuck to the corner of their mouths.

He cleared his throat. “Miss Mitford, might I have a word with you?”

She didn’t even look up at him. “I have nothing to say to you, Mr. Beckford.”

“Good. Then you can listen.” He folded his arms across his chest, and planted himself in front of her. “I’m not leaving until you do.”

“Well, you’re not always a ray of sunshine either, you know.” When she narrowed her eyes, Luke stepped closer to her and whispered, “I’m leaving Gosling. I know you’re angry with me, though for the life of me, I don’t know why.”

“Then allow me to explain it to you. You,” she clipped out as she poked him in the chest, “are a silver-tongued devil. You charm your way through life without any thought to anyone else. You are an unrepentant, selfish, self-serving bastard.”

She despised him. That very morning she’d professed her love for him, and now she despised him. And all because of Lydia? All because of a mistake from five years earlier—five years before he’d even involved himself with The Ice Princess. “Is that all?” he asked in a whisper.

“No. I’m glad you’re leaving.”

He nodded curtly and left Gosling Park.

~ 26 ~

Luke was in a daze most of the journey back to London. If he’d been asked which inns he stayed at, how long the trip, or what color the sky was, he’d have been hard-pressed to answer. As awful as he’d felt without Juliet in Yorkshire, this was worse. This was devastating. He couldn’t even visit his sister, as he was certain she would view the recent events in Dorset as him having committed The Cardinal Sin of having hurt Juliet again. Which was ironic, as he felt that he was the one who’d had his heart ripped from his chest.

Upon his return to London, Luke went directly to Ridgemont House. If his time in Dorset had taught him anything, it was that he needed to get his past in order. He was shown into a yellow parlor, and he walked the floor back and forth until the baron entered the room. “Mr. Beckford, you wished an audience?” Ridgemont asked. Though he was an older man, the baron held himself well. He was tall, slender, and grey haired. And, from all accounts, enamored with his wife.

Luke suddenly felt pangs of guilt. You charm your way through life, without any thought to anyone else. You are an unrepentant, selfish, self-serving bastard. He hated that she was right. “Yes, my lord. I’ve come to offer my most humble apologies.”

“Well, that’s a matter of opinion, isn’t it, Mr. Beckford? I’d imagine that most men don’t willingly hand their wives over to you.”

He’d never thought of that as theft, but now he supposed the old baron had a point. “Touché. And that is why I’ve come, sir. I was a profligate for many years, at the expense of men such as yourself, and I am very sorry for any pain or embarrassment I might have caused you.”

The baron chuckled, and folded his hands in his lap. “Indeed? Do you plan to visit each fellow you’ve cuckolded? If so, I imagine you’ll be a very busy man for some time.”

Sweet Lucifer! This interview was painful enough. He couldn’t even imagine having to do such a thing many times over. Besides someone was bound to thank him with the barrel of their pistol. The very idea sent chills down his spine. He managed to shake his head. “No, sir. But I’ve come, you see, because I wanted to ask for your help.” He’d been threatening Louisa about revealing all to her husband, and with the latest episode with Bow Street, he didn’t feel he had a choice.

The baron stopped chuckling. “I can’t even imagine what else you’d want from me.”

Luke sighed. “My lord, first I want to assure you that I have not taken Lady Ridgemont’s jewelry. I simply want to end my association with her. In fact, our association has been over for quite some time.”

“But she hasn’t wanted to give you up?”

The man didn’t sound surprised, and Luke found himself nodding. “And now that she’s involved Bow Street… Well, sir, I find myself at a loss of what to do.”

“I involved Bow Street, not being aware of Louisa’s duplicity. Once I learned of it, I ended their investigation. And my wife and I have come to an understanding of sorts. However, I would rather you keep your distance, Mr. Beckford.”

He’d be glad to. “Of course.” If only things had gone so well in Dorset.

***

The loss of his brother’s affections was something Luke had never considered, and now that it had happened, he felt completely lost. He began obsessing on the disintegration of his relationship with Robert, because it was much easier to think about than the disintegration of his relationship with Juliet.

Just as Luke filled a glass of whiskey and was prepared to spend another quiet night at home, wallowing in his own self-pity, there was a pounding on his door. “Luke!” came Will’s panicked voice.

He nearly rolled his eyes. What the devil did Will want? And did he always have to sound panicked? Annoyed, Luke opened the door to find Haywood looking like a man possessed. “Thank God! Luke, I’m in trouble.”

What else was new? That was fairly ungenerous, and Luke felt a bit guilty, so he gestured his friend inside. “What’s the problem, Will?”

Will took the glass of whiskey that Luke had in his hand and downed it in one gulp. “I’m desperate, Luke.”

Of course he was. He always was. Luke gestured for Will to take a seat and then poured two more whiskeys from the sideboard decanter.  

“I can’t hold off my creditors much longer, and—”

“What about Miss Clarke?” If nothing else, Will was a distraction. Focusing on his friend’s problems was better than thinking about his own. He handed Will one of the glasses and took a seat opposite him. “I thought you were going to make an offer.”

Will frowned and shook his head. “I did, but Hugh St. Claire ended up stealing her from me. Damn his eyes.”

St. Claire? Luke furrowed his own brow. He could go forever without hearing that name.

“And now that bastard is living my life. They married weeks ago. All that time wasted.” Will stared at the amber liquid, as if it magically held whatever answer he was looking for.  “Now the season’s over, as are my chances at finding another heiress at this late date.” Will leapt to his feet. “But you’ve got the Devil’s own luck, Luke. All I’ve got left are my stables and a few hundred quid. But if you’d play for me, well, I just know you’ll win.”

Had he heard his friend correctly? Will wanted to gamble away the last of his meager funds? That was ridiculous. “I beg your pardon?”

Will dropped his whiskey glass to a side table and ran his hand through his black hair. “You’re my last hope, Luke.”

The lad was too reckless. Luke shook his head. “I will not be responsible for you losing all you have left, Will. I can loan you what you need for now, and then we’ll find a way to sort through the rest.”

But Will was frowning. “If you won’t help me, I’ll just handle it on my own.”

Exasperated, Luke sunk back against his seat. He was trying to help his friend. Didn’t he see that? Apparently not, as Will was dead-set on playing Hazard, and Luke just didn’t feel right about letting him go on his own. Who knew what sort of trouble he’d get into?

So they ended up in a gaming hell, a little one off King Street. However, Luke was adamant that he would not play for Will. It was ridiculous to gamble everything he had left.  Besides the baron could quadruple his worth and he still wouldn’t be in a better financial situation.