Something Scandalous (25 page)

“Yes,” Will replied.

“Will, you are so infatuated with this girl you cannot see when she is lying. My father arrived late this afternoon. Your cousin was purely looking out for her own interests.”

Will pondered that for a moment until he remembered the innkeeper’s words. “And yet the innkeeper swears you both arrived yesterday.”

Abigail’s face drew pale as she glanced over at her father for support.

“Well played, Atherton. We did arrive yesterday. My daughter was bound to get to London and I wasn’t about to let her go alone.”

That he could almost believe, Will thought. “Why now? I offered for her several times over the past five years. Every time, you both rejected my proposals.”

“Because you aren’t good enough for my daughter, Atherton. Being a duke doesn’t mean a damned thing to me.” Mr. Mason grabbed his daughter’s hand. “We will leave now.”

Something was not right about their behavior. They were still hiding something. “Wait. My cousin said she heard you,” he said, looking at Mr. Mason, “talking about Abigail becoming the next Duchess of Kendal. I shall give you one thousand pounds for an honest answer. Was she right?”

“Will, I thought we already decided your cousin did not see us there,” Abigail said.

“I was speaking with your father, Abigail. And I would like him to answer.”

Mr. Mason’s face turned red. “Yes, I did say that this afternoon. Because my daughter would make a perfect duchess. It is exactly what she should be.”

Will raked his hand through his hair. “You hated me and the fact that I was to become a duke.”

“No, I only wanted you to think that,” Mr. Mason replied. “If you had married her before you inherited, you never would have returned to England to claim your title and inheritance. If you had thought there was no chance of obtaining Abigail, you would stay here. Then Abigail could come a month later to surprise you. By then you would be settled here.”

“But you told me how much you hated the British.”

Mr. Mason gave him a smug smile. “Of course, I did. You had to believe you would never have a chance with my daughter. Good God, man, do you have any idea how hard it is to make a decent living in America? Abigail deserves more than just a small, filthy house.”

Will shook his head in confusion. “But you had money. From how you lived, I believed you had a good deal of money. More than enough to support your daughter should she need it.”

“All an illusion. Abigail’s mother had the money. Once she died, her family stopped sending money over. I knew the next best thing was to marry her off to you once you decided to remain here as the duke.”

Will could not believe what he was hearing. “Abigail, how were you involved with this?”

“I—I knew all along,” she finally admitted, staring at the wood floor.

They had both been manipulating him. For years! They were no different from Elizabeth. Except she admitted her mistakes to him freely, unlike either of them. He only had to pay with his heart to get Elizabeth to tell him the truth.

“Get out of my sight,” he said in a low voice. “In fact, get out of my country.”

“What are you doing here?”

Elizabeth looked at Sophie, dropped her valise, and hugged her friend for support. “I left him, Sophie.”

Sophie pulled away and stared at her. Then she slowly led her into the receiving salon and closed the door behind them. “What happened?”

Elizabeth explained how Abigail had arrived at the house by the time Elizabeth returned home. “I did the most dreadful thing,” she whispered.

“What?”

“I told them I was pregnant with Will’s child.”

“But you are not with child.” Sophie grabbed her hand and held it tightly for a moment. “You are not.”

“No, I am not.” A wave of disappointment shot through her. She wanted to have Will’s child and watch his face as he held their baby for the first time.

“Then why did you say such a thing?” Sophie asked.

“I don’t know. I guess I thought it was the surest way to keep them apart. I acted horribly, Sophie.”

Sophie drew her hand away and back to her lap. “Did it work?”

“I have no idea. Will dismissed me to my room like a child.”

“Was he angry?”

Elizabeth shrugged. “He is now.”

Sophie rubbed her temples. “Then why are you here?”

“Sophie, I lied to him.”

“And did you tell him the truth after Abigail left?”

Elizabeth nodded. “But there is more.”

“How much more?”

“We found my mother’s diary last night,” Elizabeth said quietly.

“Elizabeth, you are talking in circles. What does finding your mother’s diary have to do with you being here instead of at home?”

“Everything,” Elizabeth whispered, sensing Sophie’s frustration. “It was awful, Sophie. The things my mother did.”

Elizabeth related the events in the journal, including the section regarding the wager and the red-headed footman.

Sophie hugged her again. “I am sorry, Elizabeth. I know how much you had wanted to know the truth. And how you expected your father would turn out to be a peer.”

Elizabeth sat back and stared at the rug. “I would be able to accept what she’d done if she loved him. But she did not love him. She only wanted to win the wager and buy a bonnet.”

Elizabeth buried her face in her hands as tears tracked down her cheeks. “He watched,” she whispered.

“Who? The footman? That isn’t very unusual, Elizabeth. Most men like to watch as they make love.”

“Not the footman. My father watched them. There was a peephole, and he watched them have sexual congress.”

“Oh, my,” Sophie muttered. “But how did you end up here because of that?”

Elizabeth explained how she realized that she had been manipulating Will with her wiles. Then she told Sophie about her conversation with Will in the study.

“You told him you only made love with him in order to get him to stay in England?” Sophie almost shouted. “Have you lost your mind?”

“I think I have,” Elizabeth replied. “What am I to do?”

“I am not really certain,” Sophie admitted. “Stay here tonight, and we will figure what to do in the morning.”

Caroline sighed as she walked to the salon. Whoever could be calling at this dreadful hour of the morning? Anyone with sense knows calls begin in the afternoon. She had been at the Howards’ party until one in the morning. With a baby due in a few months, she needed her sleep.

“Who is in the salon, Rogers?”

The handsome footman turned with a smile that made her knees go weak. This baby had better be a boy because she wanted to get that man in her bed and couldn’t until Richard had his heir.

“A Mr. Mason and his daughter Abigail. They are recently from America.”

Americans,
she thought with distaste. She might have known they would not know about proper etiquette. She walked into the salon with a forced smile.

“Good morning,” she offered.

Mr. Mason stood quickly, and then nudged his daughter until she did the same. “Good morning, Baroness. I hope this wasn’t too early to call on you?”

“Not at all,” Caroline bit out. She took a seat by the window. “I do not believe we know each other, do we?”

“No, ma’am,” Mr. Mason said. “I was discussing my problem with a man at the inn, and he suggested I speak with you.”

“And what problem is that?”

“I want to be the next Duchess of Kendal,” Abigail blurted out.

Caroline rolled her eyes. This insignificant girl believed she could be a duchess.
Americans,
she thought again. “I am not quite sure how I can be of assistance with that.”

“I was told that your husband was next in line,” Mr. Mason said.

“Yes, he is the heir presumptive. However, if the new duke has any boys, the eldest will be the heir assumptive.” Caroline wondered what these two were about this morning. Had the duke sent them to discover what she and Richard were doing?

“My daughter will promise to never have children if you can help her become the duchess.” Mr. Mason’s cheeks blotted red.

Caroline eyed both Mr. Mason and his daughter. Suspicion remained deep in her heart but curiosity won out. “Why?”

“I want to be duchess,” Abigail whined. “I was supposed to be the duchess but my father’s plan went awry.”

Mr. Mason explained what his plan had been until the duke’s cousin ruined everything.

“Elizabeth is with child?” Caroline almost shouted.

“Yes.”

As much as she dreaded the idea, Caroline knew she had no choice in the matter now. She had to keep William from marrying Elizabeth and unfortunately, these two minions would have to assist her.

“How will you keep your daughter from getting with child? The new duke is a young and lusty man. He will demand his husbandly rights.”

Abigail’s face drew pale.

“The man at the inn told me of a surgeon who says he can make a woman barren,” Mr. Mason said.

Caroline winced. What kind of father would subject his daughter to something so horrible? It mattered not to her. They obviously wanted the money and position so desperately it would not be Caroline who stopped them.

“I can get us what we both desire. However,” she said, holding her hand up to stop him from interrupting her, “I will do nothing to assist you until the surgeon guarantees me that the surgery was a success. I will take no chances that she will become with child and have his heir.”

The young girl’s face turned white but she said nothing.

“Do we have an agreement?” Caroline asked impatiently.

Mr. Mason glanced over at his daughter, then nodded. “Yes. We will do whatever it takes to make my daughter duchess.”

“Very well, then. We shall start today. Call for your surgeon.”

Will glanced out the window as the coach rolled toward his home. The last two days had been hell. He’d barely slept, drunk far too much whisky, and did not care about anything. After sending money and passage to Mr. Mason, he was glad to be done with them. With any luck, they would be sailing out of his life in the next few days.

Now, if only he could get over his anger at Elizabeth. A part of him did not believe she only made love with him to get him to stay. He loved Elizabeth. He had wanted to build his life with her. Instead, she had used him. Broke his heart and ripped it to shreds.

Will glanced out the window of the coach as his driver turned down Maddox Street to get around some commotion ahead. He knocked on the roof to gain the groomsman’s attention.

“Yes, Your Grace?” the man said as the carriage stopped.

“I shall get out here.”

“Are you certain, Your Grace?”

“Yes, I am.” Will had one thing on his mind: getting Elizabeth out of his head once and for all. A tumble with a prostitute might be just the thing to do it.

He clamored onto the street and glanced around for the right house. After finding it, he walked toward the home with all the candles blazing from the interior rooms. He opened the door and the sweet aroma of women enveloped him. A few of the women stared at him. Several gentlemen inclined their heads in greeting but didn’t say a thing. And why would they? Most of them were here when they could be spending the evening with their wives.

“Good evening, Your Grace,” a soft, feminine voice sounded from behind him.

Will turned around to see Lady Whitely smiling at him. “Good evening.”

“Is there something I can assist you with?” She took his arm and led him back to the room where he and Somerton had had drinks. “Sit here and I shall bring you some whisky. That is your drink, is it not?”

“Yes.”

She walked to the bar, whispered something in a footman’s ear, and then quickly returned a moment later with a bottle and one glass. After pouring it to the rim, she carefully handed it to him.

“So tell me, Your Grace,” she purred. “Do you know how this works?”

Will sipped his whisky and then laughed coarsely. “I believe I do.”

Lady Whitely smiled at him. “No. How this establishment works.”

“Why don’t you tell me?” Will leaned back and downed the rest of his whisky.

She refilled his glass and said, “The first time you enter my establishment and desire to be with one of my girls, I help you decide which girl is right for you.”

“Any of them will do,” he said. The whisky tasted far too good tonight.

“We do not work that way. You tell me everything you want in a woman, and I do my best to fulfill your fantasy. So tell me, what do you like in a woman?”

Will shut his eyes and imagined Elizabeth. “Red hair and green eyes. Taller than average but not a giant. Slim figure and perfectly rounded breasts with rosy nipples.”

He blinked his eyes open. Had he said that aloud?

“Hmm,” Lady Whitely said. “I only have one redhead, and honestly, I do not know her eye color. It might be blue. Is that a problem?”

Damn, he had described Elizabeth. He gulped his second glass of whisky down fast. “No, it’s not a problem.”

“Do you like your women submissive? Domineering? Or maybe playful is your desire.”

“Whatever you feel is best for me,” Will replied, wanting this process to be over. He just wanted to thrust inside a pretty woman and get Elizabeth out of his head.

“All right, if you do decide submissive is your preferred way, there are ties attached to all the beds.”

“Wonderful,” Will remarked.

“Very well, then. I shall check to see if she is occupied yet.” Lady Whitely rose and gracefully walked out of the room.

Will glanced around the garish room and wondered what the other men in the place were doing here. He chuckled softly. He knew exactly why they were here. The same reason he was—to forget someone.

He poured another glass of whisky, hoping the alcohol would numb his mind and heart to the ache he felt. Forgetting Elizabeth was the only option. She had lied to him, manipulated him, and never loved him. Everything she had done had only been for herself.

Or had it?

She had attempted to flirt with him in order to stay in the house, but he’d seen right through her. He’d known what she was doing and never stopped her. She also insisted his sisters have a Season, something he never would have allowed. She hadn’t used her wiles to get him to agree. She used logic. And she had been right that in order for them to be accepted, they needed to make their bow and join in the festivities.

Elizabeth had also asserted the boys needs for a tutor to keep them up with their studies. Again, she was right. And every night they were home, she read to Sarah before bed. Those didn’t seem to be the actions of a selfish woman. He couldn’t imagine Abigail doing any of those things for his siblings.

He sipped his whisky, noticing the first affects of the drink. His mind felt slightly fuzzy. Had she really manipulated him?

Thinking back to that day in the music room, he only remembered her pain at telling him about her father. If she had truly wanted him to stay, she could have insisted on marriage after they had finished. His honor should have insisted upon marriage, regardless of her misgivings. Why did she think she’d manipulated him?

He drank down the rest of his whisky. He wanted nothing more than to slip into a stupor for the night.

Lady Whitely walked back and sat down next to him with a smile. “She needs a few minutes to ready herself.”

This was a foolish idea. He should leave, return home, and attempt to get sober.

Elizabeth and Sophie enjoyed a small dinner and then returned to the salon to talk. For two days now, Elizabeth barely touched her food, her stomach tied up in knots all the time. She had not heard from Will but truly hadn’t expected to. Her real disappointment was that Ellie and Lucy had not tried to contact her. Perhaps Will had convinced them that she was a horrible person.

All she wanted to do was go to bed and forget about this day. But Sophie insisted on talking…again.

“Elizabeth, do you honestly believe you only slept with the duke to keep him in England.”

“Must we discuss this again?”

“Yes. I just don’t believe it,” Sophie said.

“What do you mean?”

“I have been thinking about this. Is there a chance you decided there must be a reason you succumbed to his charms, so you invented this excuse?”

Elizabeth relived that day. She’d been so distraught about her family and the late duke, and being with Will felt so wonderful. “I was scared, Sophie. If he returned to Canada or America, I would have been left alone…again.”

“You have been alone before,” Sophie commented.

“Not like this. After falling in love with him and his family, I feel so lost not being with them.”

Suddenly the front door hurled open and Lord Somerton stepped inside. “Sophie! Where the bloody hell are you?”

Sophie rolled her eyes. “In here, Somerton.”

Lord Somerton raced into the room and looked over at Elizabeth. “Thank God.”

He strode toward her and pulled her out of her seat.

“What are you doing?” Sophie exclaimed.

“She needs to come with me.”

“Why?” Elizabeth and Sophie said in unison.

Somerton stared at Sophie. “He is at Lady Whitely’s.”

Sophie’s eyes widened. “Oh, my. How did you find out?”

“She sent a footman to inform me.” He looked over at Elizabeth again.