To Ruin a Rake (36 page)

Arabella’s eyes widened. “There were others?”

“You were but one of many,” Harriett answered, grateful to see no pain in her sister’s face, only shock at the revelation. “She has uncovered a multitude of indiscretions.”

“Will she ever forgive me, do you think?”

“I do not know,” Harriett said honestly, not wanting to crush her fragile hope. “It is something to perhaps consider in years to come, but I think it best to let the matter rest for the present time. Too much is at stake to risk the conflict between you becoming public now.”

“Of course,” agreed her sister at once. She chewed her lip for a moment, then spoke again. “Harriett, no matter what happens between Elizabeth and me, whether it be for good or ill, I have decided Papa is right. I shall never tell her—or anyone else—about Eudora.”

Harriett marked that her tone was different. More thoughtful now and, thank heaven, less reckless.

“I don’t want anyone, especially Eudora herself, to
ever
know she is illegitimate,” continued Arabella. A broken smile briefly crossed her lips. “I shall content myself with playing the role of a doting aunt and allow her and the rest of the world to believe you and Manchester are her parents. It is the only way to cleanse her name, the only way she will ever have a chance at happiness. If I can give her nothing else, I can at least give her that.”

It was an enormous sacrifice, and Harriett could see what it cost her. She embraced Arabella tightly for a moment and then looked her in the eyes. “Along with your love, it will be more than enough.”

~ * ~

St. James’s was quite literally packed wall-to-wall. Not a single invitation had been declined, for no one wanted to miss the chance to see those involved in London’s three most delicious scandals all gathered beneath one roof.

It had been a month, and Harriett’s elopement was still the subject of much discussion. She couldn’t help but smile at the way everyone kept casting subtle—and some not-so-subtle—glances at her midsection. In addition, rumors of Elizabeth’s estrangement from Lord Oxenden had finally begun to circulate. They were now given credence, thanks to her solitary attendance at this family event.

If the two combined weren’t enough to incite the wagging of chins, then there was also the fact that Lord Russell and his new lady wife were in attendance. Even now, they were being seated. The upper crust was in a transport of watchful delight, and whispers followed like a tide in the couple’s wake.

“I didn’t think they’d come,” murmured Cat, peeking out from behind the vestry door.

“I’m sure Nanette only came to gloat,” Harriett replied, chuckling. “No doubt she had to drag him here.”

“Did he ever answer your letter?”

“No,” Harriett lied. He
had
answered. Naturally, he’d been quite disappointed to have his suspicions confirmed, but her elopement with Roland had not been entirely unexpected. He had even gone so far as to express gratitude for the fact that she’d come to her senses before it was too late, in effect saving them both. Nanette, it turned out, truly loved him, though he’d failed to see it until Harriett finally dashed his hopes.

“I shall be a far happier man with her honest love than I would have been had I married you without your heart,”
he’d written. His forgiveness hadn’t completely appeased her conscience, but it certainly helped. At the time, she’d felt there was no other choice but to marry him. She was very glad they’d both been spared that fate. Russell was a good man, and she genuinely wished him joy.

“Well, I don’t suppose there would be much to say,” said Cat, turning away. “Where are Elizabeth and Arabella?”

“Elizabeth is with Papa. Arabella is across the hall in another room with Lily, helping her ready the petal maids.” She was not to come out until just before they ran the gauntlet. Arabella and the girls would go first, followed by her, and then Elizabeth would immediately precede Cat and Papa. Thankfully, Arabella’s condition, as well as her emotional state, had much improved since her arrival. She looked almost her old self again, if a bit thinner and more sober of manner.

Elizabeth returned with Papa, and Harriett went to fetch Arabella. She saw Elizabeth cast one furtive glance at their prodigal sister, who stared down at the carpet. Her older sister’s jaw tightened, and Harriett winced. Clearly, forgiveness was not yet an option. Then the music began to swell, and they began the long walk down the aisle.

Many a sniffle was heard as Cat and Hammond exchanged their vows before the assembly, and their chaste kiss elicited a collective feminine sigh. That theirs was a love match was plain to all present.

As they progressed back up the aisle, Harriett was pleased to mark that Arabella’s presence appeared to be of only minor interest to the crowd—the nasty looks Nanette was casting
her
way were of far greater import. For the benefit of their audience, she smiled beatifically at her erstwhile rival as she passed, causing the woman to puff up like an angry, wet hen.

Murmurs rippled behind them as those who had taken note began to spread the word. Beside Nanette, Russell stared straight ahead. She knew from his letter that he held no ill will toward her, but such was certainly not the case concerning his lady wife, who was most apparent in her animosity.

The newlyweds were bustled off to their carriage amid a deluge of flower petals and exuberant cheers. Harriett stood with Roland and watched with contentment the departure of her baby sister. “Tonight’s celebration will be our last in London for a while,” she said, leaning on his arm as they turned to go back into the church.

“Oh, I think we might be able to return next Season,” he said lightly. “By then we’ll be an old married couple and of no interest. Some new scandal will come along and London will forget all about us.”

Though she tried to repress it, a smile quirked the corners of her mouth. “Actually, I think I might like to stay in Cambridgeshire next Season.”

“Oh? Eager to have me all to yourself, are you?” he teased, his low laugh sending a tingle of anticipation up her spine. “I’m sure we can find ways to keep ourselves entertained while in the country. We can always play footman and kitchen maid.”

Blushing, she laughed. “Mm. Yes, there
is
that. But in truth, I rather doubt I shall be able to travel again until at least a year has passed.”

Roland stopped in his tracks, his glance darting to her midsection. “How long?”

“Why, on our wedding night, of course,” she said with mock indignation.

“Well, of course,” he agreed, a slow smile spreading across his face to light his honey-brown eyes. Coming closer, he reached up and caressed her cheek. “Perhaps I spoke too soon about our scandal blowing over so quickly. I’m tempted to cause another—right now.”

“Are you?” She felt the familiar pull of desire as his eyes darkened.

“I am. Your sister’s wasn’t the only love match made this Season, you know.” Bending, he drew her into his arms and kissed her.

Delighted gasps mingled with mutters of disapproval from several of the stragglers who’d been lingering in the church vestibule.

Harriett, however, didn’t mind at all.

Kimbolton Castle, Cambridgeshire, 1744

“William, don’t wander,” Harriett called, laughing as Arabella shepherded their wayward son, scolding him all the way back to where Isabelle and Eudora played on the blanket. At not quite two, his little legs were too short to allow him to escape his aunt.

“She seems happy here,” said Roland, handing her a glass of lemonade and sitting down beside her.

“Yes, I suppose she is.” Indeed, her sister seemed happier now than she had been since she was in pinafores. “She’s settled in quite nicely. But I still think she ought not to give up entirely on the idea of marrying. It’s been more than two years.”

“I wouldn’t be in any rush to suggest it,” advised her husband. “Here, she at least has a measure of peace and security. London holds nothing but anxiety and possibly even pain for her.”

“I wasn’t thinking of London,” Harriett replied, shifting a bit to better avoid an inconveniently placed tree root. “I doubt she’d want to go there any time soon with
him
still about.” She’d finally told him the rest of the tale about a year ago. “But she might consider marrying someone else, someone local.”

“Perhaps.” His noncommittal answer told her he didn’t think there was much chance of it happening.

“I don’t suppose
we’ll
make it to London any time soon” she sighed, patting her swollen belly. “Only one month left before this ship sails.”

“And I shall be quite content to remain here after its launch,” he said, stretching out in the shade cast by the willow under which they sat. He looked at her adoringly. “London has its charms, but none of them as charming as you, my love.”

Smiling, she set her book aside, using the letter she’d received earlier that day to mark her place. “Cat thinks Papa will be too busy wooing Widow Wallingford to care whether or not we visit, and Elizabeth won’t be there either. She and her friend Mrs. Wortley have decided to have an adventure, apparently. They are planning a trip together to tour the ancient wonders of Greece.”

Elizabeth had begun writing her almost as soon as she’d left London, but she’d yet to come and visit Kimbolton. Harriett doubted she ever would with Arabella living there. Not necessarily a bad thing she thought as she looked out at her sister and the children playing happily together.

“And what of Lady Winchilsea?”

Harriett chuckled. “Cat is in the same condition as I—again. Little William will have yet another cousin in about six months.”

“Are we competing now?”

“Not likely,” she said with a snort, rubbing the small of her back, which had begun to ache mildly. “Already she’s complaining about her figure. She hardly even showed the last time! Meanwhile, I look like an enormous elephant. It’s not fair.”

“I think you the most beautiful creature in the world.” Leaning over, he planted a kiss on her pouting lips.

“You would,” she teased, momentarily mollified. “You’re scandalizing the servants again,” she added in a whisper, glancing pointedly at the new footman, who’d stumbled and almost dropped the hamper he was carrying.

“They ought to be used to it by now.” He kissed her again.

“And here I thought you a changed man. Once a rake, always a rake, I suppose.”

“I beg to differ, dear wife,” he replied, frowning. His scowl was belied by the twinkle in his whiskey eyes. “All that time you were so concerned about being ruined, when all along it was
I
who should have been worried. You’ve quite ruined me. I’ve become far worse than my brother ever was.”

She smiled up at him, not bothered in the least by the mention of William. “You mean better. William was a good man, but he could never have made me happy the way you have.” And just to show him she meant it, she leaned up and favored him with a passion-filled kiss.

A crash sounded behind them, followed by the noise of shattering glass and crockery.

Harriett grinned against her husband’s lips and whispered, “I think that when we do finally make it back to London, we’ll be as much of a scandal as ever.”

“Promise?” he said, kissing her again.

“Promise.”

Liana loves to weave incendiary tales that capture the heart and the imagination, taking the reader out of the now and into another world. The glory and splendor of the 18th Century provides a lush, glittering backdrop for her fairy tale romances. It’s a time of sensuous lovers, passionate music, lavish royal courts and deadly intrigues.

Liana lives in Texas with her own dashing hero of nearly twenty years, their delightful progeny, one spoiled feline overlord, and several tanks of fish. She’s been devouring historical romances since her early teens and is delighted to be writing them for fellow enthusiasts.

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