An Invitation to Scandal (33 page)

Nicholas took a deep breath and plunged in. “It will not be possible for me to give you my word it will not happen again. It shall, weekly. Maybe daily. I will scandalize you in every way I can think possible. I will drag my name through the mud and let it wallow there for as long as is necessary.”

“Necessary for what?”

“For you to break off our engagement.”

She hesitated for an instant, then quickly collected herself. “I will do no such thing.”

“Yes, you will and I’ll tell you why.”

Miss Caldwell glared at him, her dark eyes cold and hard. “Please do, Lord Blackbourne. I’m sure it will be most illuminating.”

“You will break off our engagement because I do not love you. You may be the perfect picture of what a man should wish for in a wife, but in truth I find you cold and calculating. I cannot trust you and I have absolutely no desire to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“This is not about what you want,” Miss Caldwell said, and Nicholas knew the statement to be fact. She had never cared. He had never managed to penetrate the wall she had built around her and she had no desire to let him in.

He forced himself to stay calm. “You will break off your engagement to me. Because if you do not, I will.”

Shock registered on her features, freezing them for an instant. Nicholas recognized a moment of satisfaction that he had finally managed to register some emotion with her.

“You will not.”

“I will. And I will not be kind about it.” He waited for a full moment while the ramifications of his threat settled in. She would be humiliated, possibly even shunned and ostracized. Her hopes of helping her family dashed.

“You wouldn’t dare. What of your own reputation? You were so concerned with repairing the damage your past behavior had created. Do you honestly believe I would be so gullible to think you would risk that now?”

Nicholas shrugged. “My father is dead. I have no one to account to now.”

He leaned back and crossed one leg over the other and affected a posture of indifference, though inside, his stomach churned and boiled. He did not want it to come to that. It would be ugly and wholly unnecessary.

But if he had to, if Miss Caldwell forced his hand, he would. He would do whatever he had to in order to be rid of this engagement she had blackmailed him into and ensure Abigail did not suffer in kind. He had no desire to hurt Miss Caldwell, but if he had to choose between her future and Abigail’s, it was an easy choice to make.

“Why are you doing this?”

A small crack appeared in her calm façade and Nicholas could almost smell her desperation. He hardened himself against the sense of pity that threatened. He did not wish her ill, but nor did he wish to spend an eternity with her as his wife.

“I am doing this because a marriage between the two of us would make both our lives miserable. You think my financial status will compensate for any lack of affection between us, but I assure you it will not. The veneer of wealth will wear thin very quickly and in its place will live only resentment and bitterness.”

“I disagree.”

“Of course you do,” he said. “But you are only looking with your head and not your heart.”

“What do you know of heart,” she spat at him. “You, who wallowed in your own debauchery for years as if it were a sweet cologne.”

“And I paid the price for that,” he reminded her. “I am still paying.”

Nicholas stood and walked to the mantel. His fingers slid along the stone edge.

“It is because of
her
, isn’t it?”

Nicholas turned and faced her. For a moment, he thought to deny it, but it seemed ridiculous now. “Yes, it is. I had planned to offer for her, but your threats and extortion prevented me and forced me into a betrothal I do not want.”

Her mouth tightened but she did not deny his claim.

“The only reason I agreed to this was to prevent you from harming Abigail. I realize now this marriage would do her far more harm. It would do everyone far more harm. We all deserve better than this.”

Miss Caldwell stood abruptly and paced the floor. He could feel her desperation building, giving her movements a sharp edge. It was the first true emotion he had ever seen her display.

“You cannot do this. I will…my father will—”

“I sincerely doubt your father will care if he knows the decision was yours. Beyond that, my family has enough power and wealth that anything he says or does will be rendered moot. Do not make me do that,” Nicholas said. “I have the utmost respect for your father. He is a good man. I do not wish to hurt him or his reputation. Or yours, for that matter.”

“But you would.”

“If you force my hand.”

“For her.” She said the words as if they left a vile taste in her mouth.

“I love her,” he said. The words came easily as did the sense of calm their truth created. They brought everything into crisp clarity.

“And what of me? What of my family? Are we to suffer for this change of heart?”

Nicholas didn’t consider his refusal to be a change of heart but he did not argue the point. “When you announce our betrothal has ended, I will settle upon your family a handsome sum as compensation. It should allow your father to offer substantial dowries for you and your sisters.”

Miss Caldwell clasped her hands in front of her. “What will people think?”

“They will think you are most wise to rid yourself of a fiancé whose favorite pass time is to immerse himself in scandal. I will, of course, wait a suitable time before Abigail and I announce our betrothal to avoid any hint that the decision to part was mine.”

Miss Caldwell stood and paced, her movements sharp. “I cannot believe this is happening.”

“What did you expect?”

She turned on him, anger in her eyes. “I expected to marry. I expected to make my family’s life a little easier!”

“And it will be,” Nicholas said. “I will see to it. The dowries, coupled with your sterling reputation and beauty, will make you an attractive prospect. I suspect next season you will have your pick of gentlemen. But only if your reputation remains undamaged by your decision here today. Say you will call off the engagement.”

* * *

“This constant avoidance of your duty is beyond the pale.” Aunt Edythe paced in front of the window. One hand grasped the broach fixed at the base of her neck, the other swept through the air to punctuate her words.

Abigail sipped at her tea and tried to ignore her aunt’s tirade over her insistence of waiting out the week before she gave Lord Tarrington her answer. Aunt Edythe considered her acceptance a foregone conclusion. The tirade had lasted for ten minutes and showed no signs of ending soon.

For her part, Abigail refrained from commenting. There was no point. What was she to say? She had insisted on a week because she believed a miracle would occur, fate would finally cast a kind eye in her direction and like magic, she and Nicholas could be together. The more she said it in her own mind, the more ridiculous it sounded.

And now, here she sat on the last day of her seven day reprieve, no closer to that miracle than she had been on the first. There had been no word from Nicholas, no letter. Nothing. Days had passed since the scandal at White’s and still…nothing. Silence.

Her heart sank deep into her satin slippers.

“If you were my daughter, I would not have countenanced such behavior. And when Lord Tarrington arrives tomorrow you will beg his forgiveness and pray he does not withdraw his proposal.”

Tomorrow.

Abigail glanced up from her tea at the sound of a carriage. A knock sounded below and Abigail’s heart lurched. Had Lord Tarrington come a day early? Could she stall him for one more day?

But for what?

The inevitable had arrived at her door. She rested the tea cup in her lap and stared forlornly at the door to the sitting room. Perhaps the time had come to accept her future. To realize not every story had a happy ending.

The door opened and Titus stepped inside, announcing their caller. “Lord Blackbourne.”

Startled, Abigail set her tea cup on the table before she spilled it. Somewhere behind her, Aunt Edythe gasped. Abigail stood slowly, afraid to move, lest she disturb the scene unfolding before her eyes. Nicholas stepped inside the room and Titus closed the door behind him.

For a brief moment, everyone remained motionless.

“Lady Glenmor,” Nicholas said, his voice steady and quiet. “Miss Laytham.”

“This is highly irregular.” Aunt Edythe glared at him, horror seared into each line in her face.

Nicholas offered a small smile, but his gaze never left Abigail’s. “Forgive me.”

She returned his smile. It was so good to see him in the flesh. She wanted to rush across the room and throw herself into his arms, but his words kept her rooted in place.

Forgive him for what? Had he been unsuccessful? Uncertainty tempered the joy of seeing him. Was this to be good-bye, then? Tears watered her vision and Nicholas’s image wavered. “There is nothing to forgive.” Abigail kept her voice steady, determined to hold onto her dignity. It was a difficult battle. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and collapse like a wailing child.

“What you have done, sir, is unforgiveable!” Aunt Edythe’s ire wafted from across the room. “How dare you show yourself in our home.”

Nicholas ignored her and reached out to take Abigail’s hands in his own. His were warm and strong. She took solace in that small contact and wished she could hold on forever.

“Abigail, look at me.”

Aunt Edythe gasped again and whirled away, the words she muttered lost on Abigail as she did as Nicholas bade and gazed into his silvery eyes. The love reflected there wrapped around her heart and squeezed.

“Do you forgive me?”

She nodded and blinked back the tears threatening to fall. “I’m sure you did all you could.”

Nicholas shook his head. “No, not for that. For your uncle. For my behavior. My part in his death. I need to know—do you forgive me for that?”

She nodded. She had forgiven him some time ago. Benedict, Caelie, her mother, even Lord Tarrington—they had all been right. Her uncle’s decisions were his own, and while Nicholas may have played a part, it no longer signified. If Madame St. Augustine hadn’t used him, it would have been another gentleman and the outcome would have been the same. They had all become trapped in the vicious circle of her uncle’s obsessive love for a woman he could not have.

Abigail could sympathize. It was a most painful thing to love someone who was once yours, but never could be again.

“I forgive you,” she said. “Completely.”

Nicholas raised her hands and pressed his lips against the backs of her fingers.

“This is—scandalous!” Aunt Edythe fanned herself. “I insist you leave immediately. Titus!”

Both ignored her.

“It appears Miss Caldwell has chosen to break off our engagement.” Abigail’s eyes widened. “She has deemed my most recent behavior too reprehensible for words and cannot in good conscience attach herself to one prone to such reprehensible and unrepentant behavior.”

“Oh.” Her breath rushed out of her as Nicholas’s words sunk in. Miss Caldwell had broken their engagement. He was free. And he was here. Standing—oh no, kneeling!—in front of her.

Aunt Edythe rushed over and motioned with her hands, waving them about. “What is this business? Stop this instant! Get up!”

Nicholas’s grin widened. “I was curious…”

“Yes?” Abigail could scarcely breathe.

“Would you perhaps be interested in accepting an invitation?”

“An invitation?” Her heart pounded against her breast.

“Stop it!” Aunt Edythe swatted at Nicholas’s shoulder. “Stop it this instant. Titus!”

A giggle burst out of Abigail. Was this really happening?

“To a wedding. Ours to be more succinct. Provided you would still like to become my wife.” His smile tilted to one side and a gleam shone in his eyes. “I would much prefer the rest of my scandals to be played out with you.”

His words sent Aunt Edythe reeling backward in dismay.

Abigail dropped to her knees in front of Nicholas, pulling his hands to her heart, caring little that they had an audience of one about to have an apoplexy.

“That is an invitation I am most willing to accept.”

Nicholas let go of her hands and wrapped his arms around her, lifting them both to their feet. He swung her around, whooping with pleasure and in that moment, Abigail realized they had come full circle. Forgiveness was given, passion rediscovered, and love rewarded.

As Nicholas set her on her feet and kissed her soundly, Abigail imagined Uncle Henry would have greatly approved. For all his faults, her uncle had been a romantic at heart.

And what better way to honor his memory, than to let love flourish.

Author’s Note

Thank you so much for reading
An Invitation to Scandal
, Book 1 in the
Sins & Scandals
Trilogy. I hope you have loved getting to know Nicholas and Abigail, as well as their friends and families as much as I have loved writing their story.

Reviews are definitely welcomed and appreciated at Amazon and Goodreads:
www.amazon.com
;

http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4732626.Kelly_Boyce
.

A Scandalous Passion
(Book 2) and
A Sinful Temptation
(Book 3) will be released in the spring and fall of 2014 respectively, so keep an eye out!

I love to hear and connect with my readers. Below are links to how you can find me:

Website: 
www.kellyboyce.com

Facebook: Kelly Boyce, Author (
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Kelly-Boyce-Author/167747449914858?ref=hl
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Goodreads: 
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4732626.Kelly_Boyce