A Touch of Passion (25 page)

“That could work.”

Grayson rose unsteadily to his feet and moved to the large desk that dominated one end of his study. He fetched a quill and paper and passed them to Hadley. “You write two notes; I’m drunk. One to Arend and one to Portia.”

“You write the one to Portia. It’s personal.”

“For once can you help me without being a sentimental fool. Simply tell her that I’m following up leads, and that if she approves I shall announce our engagement once she’s told her family. I’d wait for Philip, but he might not be home for quite a few weeks. I’m sure Luke, the next eldest brother, can act in his stead regarding settlements.” He collapsed back into his chair and downed another glass of brandy.

Hadley finished one note, and moved to the desk to use Grayson’s seal. Then he returned and shoved a sheet of paper across to Grayson. “I’m not writing to Portia. After everything she’s been through you should have the decency to write to her in your own hand.”

Grayson stared at the quill as if it would poison him should he pick it up. What would he say to her?
Sorry I wasn’t there for you, but I want vengeance?

“Fine.”

“While you’re penning your missive, I will think of ways we can locate the men-on-men brothels that cater to an upper-class clientele. We will need to visit as many as we can of that type of whorehouse, as I would assume these men move around. We will only have a few days before Arend arrives.”

Portia couldn’t hide her excitement when a note arrived for her in the return post. It was from Grayson; she recognized the seal and the handwriting. She excused herself from the breakfast table and raced to the privacy of her room to read his letter.

Her hands shook as she tore at the seal. Hope bloomed in her chest that he hadn’t closed her out of his heart. She unfolded the paper and scanned his message.

Dear Portia:

I was pleased to hear of your recovery. Since you are well, I have written to your brother Luke to arrange the marriage settlement in Philip’s absence. Once you have spoken to your family let me know, and I shall make the announcement of our betrothal.

I’m in London following up the leads we have uncovered regarding Madam DePalma. Once we have exhausted our leads here, I shall return to Dorset, and I suggest we marry in Lord Markham’s chapel if you are agreeable.

I await your response.

Yours truly,
Lord Blackwood

She cursed under her breath and crushed the missive in her hand. No
I miss you, I love you, sorry I ran to London
… How dare he be such a coward! He was shutting himself off from her, going back to marrying her with no heart involved.

She would not have it.

Her hand drifted to her stomach. Her courses had come yesterday, so she was not with child. That made her decision easier.

She sank onto the edge of her bed and fought tears. Her dream of marrying the man she loved was gone. She would never get him to open himself to love now. Her near overdose of laudanum had brought back his fear, and she doubted she’d be able to get through to him. Love shouldn’t be this hard, she thought. If he really loved her, he’d take the risk because he couldn’t live without her.

Her heart turned to stone.
He thinks he has you anyway.
She would wager her business that he thought he could have both—her as his wife but a heart that belonged to no one. He was gravely mistaken. She would never be forced into marriage. She’d blazed her own trail for years, and she would do it now.

A tear trailed down her cheek, and she let it. It would be the last tear she shed for lost love.

She would have a tough time convincing her brothers that a marriage was not necessary, she knew, and her stomach clenched at the thought of facing her mother.

She did not need a man to provide for her, but declining his proposal would cost her her reputation and her standing in society. She bit her lower lip. Therein lay her problem. Her business would suffer, as it was the
ton
who bought her cider. Her business had grown, and she had employees who counted on her and an orphans’ school that counted on her financial support.

She lay down and tried to think. There must be a way for her to salvage her reputation and save her business without marrying.

Four hours later, her bottom lip was raw from chewing on it, and still nothing had come to mind. She wanted Philip back in England safe and well, but she knew that he would force a marriage. That was the only option that saved her reputation, thus not hurting her family, and allowed her to keep her business thriving, thus enabling it to support its staff and the orphans’ school.

A knock on her door saw her sit up and check her hair before saying, “Come in.” It was Serena—a glowing and happy Serena. Portia’s heart twisted with envy in her chest.

“I came to see if you are all right. You’ve been shut up in your room for hours. You’re not feeling worse, are you?”

She gave a smile at the concern on Serena’s face. “No.” She waved the letter about. “If I’m sick, it’s Grayson I’m sick of, one could say.”

Serena sat at the foot of her bed. “Bad news?”

“Men. Sometimes I want to shoot the lot of them. They can be so dense.”

Serena laughed. “My first husband wasn’t dense, worse luck. He was vicious, cruel, and sadistic, but not dense.”

“What was it like to marry a man you did not love?”

Serena eyed her cautiously. “Why do you ask? I thought you loved Grayson.”

“I do, but … Here. Read his note.” She shoved the piece of paper at Serena, who read it with a look of horror growing on her face.

“I’d like to slap him! How could he be so stupid and thoughtless and cruel?” Serena said with righteous anger.

“He’s afraid to love. He’s afraid of loss. I thought we’d come to an understanding that the rewards that come from loving a person far outweigh the risks. But my recent brush with death seems to have changed his mind.” Her voice trailed away. “It’s obvious he doesn’t love me enough.”

“I think you’re right. I’d give up anything and everything for any amount of time with Christian. When I met him, he knew I might be arrested for murder and perhaps sent to the gallows, but he didn’t care. We didn’t waste one moment on what might be. We simply lived for the here and now.”

Portia’s heart sank. “I’m in a terrible situation,” she confessed to Serena. “My reputation is in tatters, and my family will want me to wed Grayson to save me and the honor of our family name. Grayson will also insist, to save his honor. How can I marry a man I am hopelessly in love with when he will never return my feelings?” She thumped the bed. “I’ve lain here for hours trying to figure out another way. All I’ve come up with is to marry someone else.”

“Well, that’s a bit drastic,” Serena said wryly. She fell silent, and Portia could see her thinking, focusing on the situation and trying to come up with an alternative. Finally a resigned look settled over her features. “Did you have anyone in mind?”

“Maitland is looking for a wife. He offered for me when Grayson told him he didn’t particularly wish to wed me. However, when Grayson got wind of it, he became possessive.”

“That’s a good sign. Perhaps his feelings are deeper than I originally thought.”

Portia shook her head. “I thought that once, but now I realize that he thought I might be with child. Very honorable—I admire him for that.”

Serena ran a hand over her protruding belly. “A child. That changes everything.”

“I’m not with child. My courses started.”

“That gives you more choices. Not many, but a few.”

“I came up with only two: weather the scandal and hope my business and family don’t suffer, or marry someone else.”

“As you are the only daughter, would your family suffer, in fact? I only ask because I think there may be another way.”

“My mother would hate facing society’s scorn, but my parents’ marriage was a love match, and I believe she would understand my position and sympathize.” She lowered her head. “If you are going to suggest that I don’t marry at all, it’s hopeless. My business—”

“Christian could publicly buy the cider business and secretly sell it back to you a few months later, once the commotion has died down. He could take the lead in name permanently, but report to you behind the scenes. You can continue to run it on your own, but with a male as the figurehead.”

Hope ignited in her body. She grabbed Serena’s hand. “Would Christian do that for me?”

“Of course, if I ask him.”

Portia stood and began to pace the room. “It might work. My brothers are going to be the biggest problem, especially if they find out Grayson and I have been intimate.”

“Then why don’t we have a backup plan ready for them? You could say that if the scandal refuses to die down you’ll marry.”

“They will want a name. They will expect it to be Grayson.”

Serena didn’t bat an eye. “Then say neither of you suits the other and you’d prefer to marry Maitland.”

Portia began to gnaw on her lip again. “I’ll have to ask him.”

Serena rose. “Then I suggest you wash your face and put on your prettiest gown. Maitland is a logical man, and it should be easy to make a case.” She hesitated at the door, then added, “He has a list for what he requires in his wife. He asked my opinion on it. I told him to tear it up and go with his heart, but he laughed at my suggestion. You fit every point he listed. I don’t think he’ll take much convincing.”

If only she had more time … but she didn’t.

When Portia didn’t reply Serena opened the door. As she left she said, “I’ll ask Christian about the business. I’ll leave Maitland up to you.”

Portia sat down with a heavy heart to write to Grayson. As the words and tears flowed, she finally felt a sense of peace fill her heart. She might always love Grayson, but she could—no, she
would
move on with her life. Maybe one day she might even learn to love another.

“There will be trouble,” Arend said as he came up behind Christian, who stood looking out at the rose garden.

The men watched Portia take a turn around the arbor, arm in arm with Maitland. The pair had taken an afternoon stroll every day this week.

Christian turned his head to look at Arend. “What am I to do? Serena tells me Lady Portia does not wish to marry Grayson, and given that my wife is heavily pregnant with my child I don’t intend to upset her.” He swung away from the window and motioned for Arend to take a seat.

“Grayson loves her. He just won’t admit it. If Maitland marries Portia, Grayson’s friendship with him will be over. It will break up the Libertine Scholars. We always said we’d never let a woman come between us.”

“That was a vow we made as stupid, arrogant young men. When the heart is involved, men tend to forget the silly things they said in their youth.”

“I hope this love affliction passes me by. I like my life as it is. No complications. No family to worry over. I have no need to produce an heir. My cousins are plenty, and all are eager for the title, though I have no idea why, as there is no property that comes with it. My wealth is my own, and I worked hard to earn it.”

Christian wanted to dispute his words, but he knew it would do no good. Arend’s family had arrived in England from France during the revolution with nothing but a few jewels and the clothes they had managed to escape in. Arend had worked hard at rebuilding his family’s wealth, but not without a few sacrifices along the way. None of the Libertine Scholars really knew what he’d had to do to survive his poverty, but from the darkness that lay just beneath Arend’s surface Christian knew that one trip to Africa, in particular, had cost his friend dearly, as Arend had come back from it a darker, moodier man.

Christian decided to focus back on their problem. “Serena tells me Portia is in love with Grayson, but that she refuses to marry a man who doesn’t love her. How can you be sure he does?”

Arend sat back and put his feet up on the side table. “He slept with her.”

Christian walked to pour them both a drink. “He’s slept with loads of women he didn’t love.”

“Ah, but not a virginal lady who happens to be Robert’s sister. He is far too honorable to have done that were he not in love.”

“Then why is he not here?”

Arend looked at him in surprise. “You really don’t understand, do you.” He gave Christian a mocking smile. “You’re part of the problem. He’s never forgiven himself for your burns. You only went with Grayson to disarm the cannons because he asked you to. Grayson feels responsible for your injuries, and also for Robert’s death. He has lost many of those he loves. His parents, his sister, Robert … and he almost lost you.”

“We have all lost people we love.”

“True. However, Grayson’s fun-loving, nothing-is-serious demeanor hides how deeply he hurts over the loss of his family. He is the most sensitive of us all. And now, when he’d finally admitted he was in love with Portia, she was almost killed. He’s retreating from the hurt, protecting himself. I understand that desire very well. How do you think he feels, having almost lost Portia? He’ll blame himself for that too.”

Christian rested his head on the high back of his seat and closed his eyes, regret lancing his soul. “I knew he would blame himself. I don’t blame him—in fact, if not for him I would not be alive today, for he stayed with me.” He opened his eyes and felt his face flush. “I only withstood the pain of my injuries because of him. I wanted to be brave for him. He stayed with me for weeks until I was out of danger. I owe him more than he knows.”

“Have you told him?”

“I told him some of this in a letter, yes, but not in person.” Christian shook his head. “Men. We are so bad at sharing our emotions. Women have the right of it. They realize that emotions make life worth living. Without love, fear, joy, and sorrow, you might as well be in your grave. Emotions make you understand what is important.”

Arend gave a shrug. “Protecting yourself from pain makes sense to me. Life is neater and more controllable when emotions are not in play.”

“Now you’re sounding like Maitland.”

Arend laughed. “His view of life is making more sense since you and Sebastian have fallen into the parson’s noose.”