Ruined by Moonlight (30 page)

No. She was not a prize meant to be won or lost.

Elena gave both parties a polite smile. “I am going to tell you what it will not be. I am not interested in being a spectacle for the entire
ton
to whisper over even more than it is already. None of the three of us is at fault over what has happened, so let us not punish each other.”

“That is a reasonable suggestion.” Ran took a moment and his handsome face was tight. But then he said, “I know this might not be greeted with a great deal of enthusiasm, but perhaps we could meet and discuss it.”

“You and I?” She recalled all the times they’d sat and speculated together. Unless he’d discovered something what would be the point?

“The three of us? I think that is reasonable.” Colbert said the words with cold precision.

The declaration made her glance up sharply at her fiancé. There was something about his expression that made her wonder if he had something to hide. Not guilt, precisely, but he was certainly being very decent and she
suddenly had an inkling he might not be as innocent as she thought.

Startling, that.

The man who had offered to marry her, to give his name and protection, actually looked uncomfortable.

“Do you know something we don’t?” she asked sharply, and maybe she should have not been so abrupt considering there were people hovering everywhere, no doubt trying to eavesdrop. But usually his manners were impeccable, the fluid grace of his bow and easy smile affable, and there had to be a reason a small sheen of sweat covered his brow.

“I might,” he muttered.

This was rather interesting. If he had expected anything of this evening, it wasn’t to be standing with his former fellow victim and her fiancé in a far corner of a ballroom, a bevy of matrons and other guests ogling them as they conversed.

However, of the three of them, Ran was fairly sure he was the one most versed in being the center of all eyes, and he advised quietly, “We should have this conversation elsewhere.”

“Not the worst idea I’ve heard,” Colbert agreed tersely. “Our club, later?”

Ran inclined his head.

“No.” The declaration was flat and unequivocal. Elena, gorgeous as ever in an elegant gown that matched her eyes as much as his jacket did—he didn’t miss the irony—lifted her shapely chin. “No. I’m sorry, my lords, but not
without
me. This isn’t between the two of you but among the three of us, and I will not be left out. I am uninterested in being informed later of the decision the
two
of you have made. It seems to me entirely too much of my life lately has been controlled by the actions of other people, including whoever decided it would be a fine idea to have us abducted.”

It might have been right then, at that moment, in front of hundreds of other people intent on trying to overhear them, not to mention in front of the man she was promised to, that Ran knew he was in love with her.

Her beauty aside, her spirit
captivated
him.

And he really couldn’t agree more with her reasoning. “It will feed the gossip mill for weeks, but shall we step out onto the terrace? At least we won’t be overheard.”

There was a split second of hesitation when he considered publically offering her his arm. Partly because it was a natural reflex to do so and partly because he was jealous as hell of Colbert and wanted her to choose him instead, but in the end he just stepped back and let her precede him to where twin sets of doors let fresh air into the stuffy ballroom. The crowd parted as Elena made her way across the floor and the two of them followed her, Ran admiring both her composure and the very feminine sway of her hips. The whispers rose, and Ran had no doubt that the guests expected violence of some kind was about to ensue.

Oddly enough, he didn’t anticipate any physical altercation, the assumption borne out once they stepped outside and walked to the balustrade. Elena turned to look at her fiancé with inquiring eyes. All Colbert said in a brittle voice was, “I like to think I’m a fair-minded man, so I am not sure between the two of us who owes whom an apology in this situation.” He shot Ran a quick look that wasn’t precisely friendly but not lethal either. “Though I
am
certain, Andrews, that you owe me one.”

He did. To an extent anyway. However, since he had not instigated any part of what had led to the abduction, he was disinclined to split hairs at the moment. “Obviously you have a theory. Care to share it with us?”

Colbert looked out over the gardens and tugged at his perfectly tied cravat. “It could have been Maria. She has the means and the motive. Once I sat and truly thought about it I admit I had a certain suspicion.” He glanced over. “Beret. I’ve been told you are old friends.”

Maria Beret. Ah, now this started to make a bit more sense. The lady in question had a penchant for younger men and there was no question she was a bit volatile. If Colbert was her current lover…It was almost amusing, or it might be later, but for now it was plausible. “I know Maria,” Ran admitted slowly. “But it was years ago. I take it you are more recently acquainted.”

“Who is Maria Beret?” Elena cast them an askance look, and she certainly was entitled to both the question and an explanation. He noticed that in the starlight her hair glimmered gold.

The theater would not be a good career for Lord Colbert. He looked distinctly guilty.

Damnation
.

This entire conversation would be easier if she wasn’t an innocent victim, but she was, and obviously he and Colbert were not. If he could change the course of what had happened, he would…or would he? While being taken prisoner and kept from his family was an infuriating experience, he would never have met her otherwise and that would have been a life-altering omission.

Maybe he owed the passionate Mrs. Beret his sincere gratitude.

He was the one who answered her question in a dry tone. “A mutual friend, apparently.”

“Oh.” Elena took in a breath. “I think I understand how you both
know
her. Let me take a guess. The current hypothesis is that she decided to take revenge on one of you or both of you, by destroying me socially, because you have
both
been her lovers. How absolutely delightful.”

His past was not something he was inclined to apologize for, but she was different and Ran couldn’t bear to see the disillusionment in her eyes.

He caught her shaking arm as she turned away. “There was no intent to hurt you. Ever. I hate to support Colbert in any way, but I don’t think so on his part either and I can vow that there never was on mine.”

“I second that and offer my apologies,” Colbert said earnestly. “I don’t know if this is an excuse but gentlemen are granted some license while waiting to be married.”

Apparently she didn’t agree. “So this happened
after
our engagement?”

Colbert might have done better to keep that inadequate explanation to himself. All excuses between them were waived when Ran stepped into the breach, since her averted profile tore him apart. She deserved anything he could tell her to mend this unforgivable moment. “Darling…there is no comparison between you and her.”

If he hadn’t felt her tremble again he might not have done what happened next, but she did.

And he did.

It was the shimmer of tears in her incredible eyes. She
had asked nothing of him, yet as all of fashionable society—or at least all curious ones who were spying out the windows—watched, he took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing each finger with care, taking his time.

Effectively declaring his intentions for a woman engaged to someone else.

This was the time for Colbert to interfere if he wished, but it seemed he didn’t. Either too ashamed of himself or too worried he might say something to provoke an argument, he turned then and walked back into the house, leaving them alone, yet hardly alone at all, since most of London proper witnessed that public abandonment.

This was not how it was supposed to be. Ran didn’t fall for the lovely lady that had provided him with a pleasant distraction—he forgot her.

He rarely explained himself; he just moved on.

He didn’t equivocate or apologize.

Most certainly he didn’t usually tug a handkerchief from his pocket and before all of the exalted
ton
gently wipe a tear from the corner of a young lady’s eye. “I’m sorry.”

“You have a myriad of sins to answer for, Andrews.” She gave a charming hiccup. “Can you be more specific as to what you are apologizing for?”

That statement alone signified what fascinated him so. To the point he felt he was teetering on a precipice with unchartered territory at the bottom. “For compromising you. Actually, not that.” He took a moment, astounded to realize his hands were not quite steady either. “Let me try again with more sincerity. For everything I contributed to this debacle, for being notorious in the first place, though
I vow I really thought I was the only one affected. I refuse to apologize for the lack of a regular courtship because it wouldn’t have happened had our circumstances been different, but for any contribution I’ve had in hurting you, I am truly sorry.”

Now he had her attention, her sticky lashes dark against the whiteness of her skin. “Go on.”

Good God, half of London’s fashionable circle was pressed up against the windows. He, who had never wanted to make a proposal in the first place, experienced a sort of rueful recognition it might be retribution for his past sins.

Maybe she had no wish to marry him.

Just because he had come to the conclusion he wanted to ask didn’t mean a damn thing. She might refuse. After all, two minutes ago she was engaged to someone else.

“I have a title.”

It was possibly the least glib sentence of his life, which made him give a choked laugh right away. “May I retract that opening and try again?”

Luminous eyes stared up at him and Elena nodded. “Please do.”

He knew then, but he’d possibly known all along, from that first breathless kiss. It was innate self-preservation that made him stumble so badly, but he’d always been wary of innocent debutantes. He was completely bereft of his usual sangfroid.

Luckily, it came to him. Just a few simple words. “You are different.”

It was hardly loverlike, said with just a slight edge, but she smiled at him and his heart did an interesting twist.

“I should hope so, my lord.”

“You only use formal address to annoy me.” He
tugged her closer. Suddenly the crowd in the ballroom didn’t matter.

“See? We
do
know each other.”

“I think perhaps we do but not as well as I would like. What should we do next? The masses need to be entertained.”

“The masses? Oh.” She glanced at the terrace doors, where more than a few people were gathered, pretending to sip champagne but instead avidly watching them. Then, as intrepid as he remembered, she set a hand on his shoulder. “Can you believe I’d almost forgotten them? I suppose, since
notoriety
is the word of the day, you could kiss me. I should think they would expect it, and as he just walked away, I somehow doubt Lord Colbert will object. It seems my engagement is officially over, and as I am already quite thoroughly ruined, I can’t see how it would make the situation worse.”

“Colbert will stay away from you if he values his life.” Then he added roughly, “You are mine.”

Not quite a poetic declaration of love or a romantic proposal on bended knee, but it served the purpose of at least making his intentions clear.

“Ran.” She gazed up at him, the tears gone, and he would do anything—anything—to see that sudden light in her eyes. Her mouth curved invitingly and he knew from personal experience it was soft and warm and inviting.…

He leaned forward, his lips brushing hers, and he could swear he heard a collective gasp from inside the house. He murmured against her mouth, “What type of kiss does my lady desire? Soft and sweet, do you think, or suitably passionate?”

Elena slipped her arms around his neck. “You are a terrible rake. Do you know that?”

His tongue traced her lower lip. “I would take offense, but at the moment, with you in my arms, I cannot summon any outrage. Your answer, my sweet? We can’t disappoint them.”

“Both,” she whispered.

“I
t appears, at least at a first perusal of the facts, that indeed Lord Colbert was quite correct about Maria Beret.”

Alicia, looking deliciously feminine in some sort of muslin gown with ridiculous little puffy sleeves that were actually quite flattering to her slender arms, stopped in the act of taking a sip of coffee. “Darling, it is barely nine in the morning. We did not get home until very late. What facts could you have gathered in that amount of time?”

Quite a lot, Ben wanted to tell her, because after she’d retired he had gone back out and made a few calls. When it was necessary he could do with very little sleep, and he wanted this matter settled quickly so his life could return to a semblance of normalcy.

Though, he had to admit, this had been a much more interesting ten days or so than he’d had in quite a while. Being the earl was definitely not as exciting as his previous employment.

Being a husband, however, was proving to be much more of a challenge than anticipated. Frustrating at times and vastly enjoyable at others. At least he could honestly say he wasn’t bored.

“I discovered that the woman in question is financially solvent enough to pay a French chef, sufficient staff, and armed guards. She is also most definitely involved in a romantic sense with Lord Colbert, and, rumor has it, is a bit on the vindictive side when discarded. His upcoming marriage might easily have sparked her somewhat legendary temper.”

His wife set down her fork. “All that before breakfast?”

He took her incredulity as a compliment. “Men talk to other men. We just don’t talk to women too often when it comes to our private affairs.”

“
That’s
true.”

The swift agreement said on a grumble deflated his brief triumph and he wondered if he should be insulted. “For a reason,” he said as he reached for the rack of toast. “All that aside, what I am saying is that it is possible for her to be the culprit. Her lover was marrying someone else and she wished to punish him—and by using Andrews she could punish a former lover who obviously left her some time ago—by destroying the young lady that was taking from her something she wanted.”