Kitabı oku: «Two Wrongs Make A Marriage», sayfa 3

It was her turn to sit down suddenly on the nearest surface, collapsing back on the bed and hugging a pillow to her chest to conceal everything she had meant to display. ‘But that means that you’re …’

‘A bastard,’ he replied cheerfully and offered her the flask.

She waved it away. ‘Then you cannot be Stayne’s heir.’

‘I am not even his natural son,’ Jack replied. ‘At least, I do not think I am. My mother was none too clear on the identity of my sire. I did not press her on the subject.’

‘And I married a man of no birth, no consequence …’

‘And no fortune,’ he added, taking another drink. ‘And there you are, hoisted upon your own petard. Since I married an heiress with no fortune, I have no sympathy for you.’ He stood, walked to the fireplace and tossed her father’s bills one by one into the flames.

‘You cannot,’ she said, dropping the pillow and hurrying across the room to retrieve them.

‘You are clearly unaccustomed to having debts. These are but first requests. They will send others. I speak from experience.’

‘A bastard with unpaid debts.’ She folded her hands across her chest, trying to draw the spider’s web she was wearing into some semblance of modesty.

‘And do not forget the near hanging,’ he said, wagging a finger at her and taking another drink.

‘I cannot forget something that I know nothing about.’

‘It is a very interesting story,’ he said.

‘I imagine it is. Would you share it with me?’ Your wife. Who would not have been such had she heard any of this a scant day ago. She glared at him.

Her anger had no more effect than her near nudity was having, for he was lost in drink and the story he told. ‘While it might be possible to dodge a London tailor, some of the more provincial innkeepers are less forgiving. When I elected to leave an establishment suddenly, by a window at the first light of dawn, the ostler caught me and had me up on charges of theft. When Stayne found me with his interesting proposition, I was on my way to the gallows.’

‘As well you should have been. You were stealing from the innkeeper.’

‘As was he from me. I should think the stirring performance of Shakespeare’s better soliloquies was worth the price of a room and a dinner. He hinted at such before I began. But when I had finished, he claimed he did not care for tragedy and presented me with the bill.’

‘A bastard, a thief and an actor!’ The last was the worst news of all. She grabbed for the pillow and swung it at his head, and kept swinging until the leading edge was trailing feathers.

He dodged the final blow with a bow worthy of Covent Garden, then straightened, seized the pillow and thrust it back into her arms. ‘At your service, miss. Or shall I say madam. You are a married lady now, after all.’

‘I am most certainly not. I cannot be held to a marriage entered into under such fraudulent circumstances.’

‘Fraud?’ He pointed an accusing finger at her. ‘You dress in silk and have not a feather to fly with.’

‘That is merely money,’ she said waving a dismissive hand.

‘The words of someone who is used to having it,’ he countered.

‘It is nothing, compared to the lies you told. I thought, when I agreed to marry you, that I knew who your family was. Now it appears that you do not know them either. There must be a law that covers this.’

‘You have but to make this disgrace public and find out,’ he offered with an expansive gesture towards the door. ‘Perhaps you can tell the next fellow you trap that this marriage does not matter. Here, take the licence with you.’ He tossed a mud-spattered scrap of paper at her. Their signatures were still legible through the many bootprints that marked it. ‘But I doubt another man will be as stupid as I was, once the story of this mistake gets around.’

It was a horrible truth and one she had not yet considered. Once the truth was known, she would have no choice but to take de Warde’s despicable offer that she repair her father’s fortune with her virtue. ‘You’ve ruined me!’ she shouted, throwing the pillow back at his head.

He caught it easily. ‘You’ve ruined yourself, darling. Do not expect me to feel sorry for you. Spayne hired me to do a spot of play-acting. I was to find a rich wife, bring her and her fortune back to Essex. My very life depended on success. What is to become of me now?’

‘If he does not hang you, then I will. I will be a widow,’ she said with narrowed eyes. ‘That suits me well.’

‘I was planning to give you just such a wedding gift before we discovered the truth about each other.’ He gazed off at an imaginary and happier horizon. ‘When all the settlements were made and your non-existent fortune was in the earl’s bank, I was to meet with a tragic accident. Punting, perhaps. Although the water is too shallow to do the job right.’ He framed the scene with his hands. ‘Sailing. My boat would be found, dashed against the rocks. But alas, no body would be recovered. My father? Heartbroken. And you, the beautiful, young, rich widow, would weep openly over the empty coffin.’

‘That will never happen,’ she said, mouth set in a grim line.

‘After how I meant to treat you in the months before the tragedy, I dare say you would have.’ He gave her a long hot look that said she’d have been on her back by now and he seemed to think she’d have enjoyed the process. ‘You would wear black for a year.’

‘Six months at most.’

‘Followed by half-mourning,’ he insisted. ‘I see you in lavender, wan, fragile and appealing.

‘I see myself in red, dancing on your grave,’ she said. ‘You meant to bed me, cheat me and leave me a bigamist.’

‘Spayne would have taken care of you. For all his idiosyncrasies, the man is a gallant gentleman at heart. He’d have seen to it that you were re-launched, remarried and none the worse for the experience.’

‘But that happy future will not come to pass until you have the courtesy to die,’ she said. ‘I suggest you get about it.’

‘Without your fortune, the earl has nothing to offer you. Adding two ciphers does not make an appreciable sum. If I were to die now, you would be a poor widow on the morrow.’ He held his hands out again and pulled a frown. ‘I see you in shabby black, tinged with the green of hard wearing. Perhaps you will take in sewing and live on the charity of the church.’

‘I will not!’ she shouted back at him. ‘I could not make nearly enough by sewing,’ she added softly, resigned. Then a thought occurred to her. ‘I don’t suppose there is a real Lord Kenton somewhere. Perhaps I am not married to you at all.’

Jack shook his head. ‘Died as a child along with his mother on a trip abroad. Spayne kept the illusion alive because he did not want to be troubled by his family to produce an heir. But the foolish deception has gone on too long and, of late, his brother was clamouring to see the prodigal son.’

‘Henry de Warde,’ Thea announced bitterly.

‘You know of him?’

‘Only because he is the reason for my family’s poverty. He sold my father a certain …’ What would be an appropriate description? ‘A fraudulent artefact,’ she decided.

‘That your father was willing to spend the whole of the family fortune to gain?’ Her faux husband was eyeing her with suspicion, waiting for the rest of a story she had no intention of telling.

She ignored the unstated request for detail. ‘It was no more unwise then Spayne’s mythical son.’

‘Probably true,’ Jack admitted.

‘I spoke to de Warde about it. I pleaded with him for mercy.’

‘And he suggested that you work off the debt on your back.’

It had been the single most revolting moment of her life. But now that she had destroyed herself, it was likely to be the first of many. ‘How did you know?’

Jack was staring at her with something almost like sympathy. ‘Because it’s what any sane man would have done.’

Now he seemed to be assessing her value and she wondered if he would have behaved the same, had he been de Warde. A glance at her reflection in a nearby cheval glass told her that it was too late to protect her modesty from him. A single pillow could not have hidden enough. ‘I refused him. But now …’ she looked at the man in front of her and resorted to complete honesty, which her teacher, Miss Pennyworth, had assured her was the shield and bulwark of any virtuous young girl ‘… I don’t know what I shall do.’

He continued to stare. ‘Suppose I were to suggest another way.’

‘Anything.’ She’d spoken too quickly. This was a man willing to steal from innkeepers, trick her into wedding him and fake his own death. He had made no mention of seeking a marriage in name only, at any time in his plans. There was no telling what scheme he intended now. ‘Anything within reason,’ she amended.

‘I do not know how reasonable my plans are,’ he admitted. ‘But recent actions proved that we are both willing to consider unreasonable options to gain success. The kidnapping was an admirable twist,’ he added, nodding with approval.

‘Thank you.’ She frowned. ‘I did not think it would work.’

‘A more timid tactic might not have got me. And you were not the most convincing actress I have seen. But the combination of beauty and risk was irresistible.’ He paused dramatically. ‘As I suppose my performance was to you.’

Silently, she cursed all actors and their perpetual need for approval. ‘Actually, it was your relationship to de Warde that attracted me. Any man would have done.’

‘I see.’ She watched as his excessive pride deflated. Then he rallied. ‘It makes me wonder what we might achieve by working together against a common enemy. There is more to Spayne’s story than I have told you. And you are still keeping secrets as well.’

‘I?’ She tried to look guileless.

‘You,’ he said with a shake of his head. ‘And why did I not see it before? But it is clear that Henry de Warde is at the crux of both troubles.’

‘What do you think you can do about him?’ It was unlikely that the man before her had a simple solution to her problem, but a forlorn hope was better than no chance at all.

‘I will not appeal to his better nature, that’s for certain. I doubt he has one. If we are to get anywhere with the man, we must do it in the same way he’s got one over on us, using base trickery, lies and chicanery.’ He walked past her to the bed, undoing the buttons of his waistcoat. ‘But the details can wait until after we have spoken to Spayne. If we must travel tomorrow, an early night is in order.’ He stretched out upon the mattress and patted the space at his side.

‘Certainly not,’ she said. Then she remembered what her mother had said about the transparency of nightwear and did her best to move out of the firelight.

He smiled invitingly and his voice, though slurred, was still as soothing as warm honey. ‘You were not so ungenerous this morning.’

‘That was when you were Kenton.’

‘And you mean to hold out for nothing less than a viscount.’ He sighed. ‘My loss, I suppose. But you are wise to have standards.’ He picked up the pillow she had thrown and tossed it back to her. ‘I suggest you remove yourself from the vicinity of my bed, before I forget what you have done to me and take advantage.’

‘And where am I supposed to sleep?’

‘The house is large. Call a servant. They will find you a place.’

‘They will know that we did not …’

‘Then take the couch on the other side of the room.’

She glared at him. ‘A true gentleman would leave me the bed.’

‘As we have established, I am not a gentleman,’ he said with a smile. ‘But at least I have my wits. I have survived on those and little else for thirty years. If you wish me to apply it to this situation, I will need to be well rested. Good night, my dear.’ And with that, he rolled so that his back was to her and closed his eyes.

Chapter Four

In the company of her new husband, the imposter Jack Briggs, the ride to Essex was proving intolerable. Instead of the sweet afterglow of a honeymoon, the day after Thea’s marriage was rather like waking with a bad head from too much wine. Her brain ached from trying to comprehend what had happened to her. Her body was stiff and sore from a night spent without sleep on the hard couch in her husband’s room, muscles rigid and teeth clenched with anger and frustration. The Kenton carriage was well sprung and roomy, but she might as well have been travelling in an open dog cart for all the comfort it gained her.

It was precisely the condition that the false Lord Kenton should have been experiencing. He had snored his way through the night, wrapped in a cloud of cheap spirits and the monogrammed linens of one of the finest families in England. Instead of waking the worse for drink and racked with guilt at how he had treated Thea and her family, the morning found him happy, relaxed and quite pleased with the way the day was going. When she had pressed him for an explanation, he had been unwilling to share the reason for his good mood. He acted as if lying about his life and identity, marrying some unsuspecting girl and being sorely disappointed in the result was an activity that happened every day.

Perhaps, to him, it did. The idea that she might be one of a string of similar Lady Kentons was more than disturbing. He did not seem the sort to travel from town to town, ruining innocents and stealing fortunes. But until last night, she’d have sworn that such a thing as had already happened was quite impossible. How could she be sure?

And he was whistling. Thea could not identify the tune. But she suspected, judging by the look in his eyes, that the lyrics were inappropriate for female ears.

She glared at him. ‘Stop that incessant noise.’

Jack stared back at her, all innocence. The whistle paused. ‘You do not like music?’

‘That is not music. It is precisely the opposite. If you had any manners …’

‘And the kind of breeding and education …’ he said, in a pompous tone, waving a hand. ‘We have already established that I do not. You were the one who wished to marry me. Now you must learn to make do.’ He went back to whistling.

‘It is vulgar,’ she said with desperation.

‘And so am I.’ His eyes were narrowed, as though it had been possible to hurt him with a statement of truth.

‘I have no doubt that you are vulgar, after your comments of the previous evening. But it is all the more reason for you to stop. You should aspire to be something better than you are.’

‘As you do?’ He folded his arms across his chest, waiting for an answer. His cheerful manner disappeared. He was looking at her, for all the world, as though he were the one who had been wronged by her scheming.

‘Is this some veiled reference to my willingness to—’ her mouth puckered in revulsion as she parroted his words back to him ‘—hold out for a man of sufficient rank?’ It was as if he thought her no better than a whore for marrying him. ‘There is nothing wrong with seeking a decent future through marriage.’

‘For a woman, perhaps,’ he said.

‘You were quick enough to do it yourself.’

‘I was doing it in service to another,’ he said firmly.

As was she. Her family would have seen the benefit, had her plan worked as expected. But his comment rankled. ‘You are little better than a servant to Spayne, then? If so, I order you to stop whistling.’

‘I may be a servant to Spayne. But to you?’ He grinned. ‘I am a husband. And humble though I might be, it is not your place to command anything of me. As I remember, it was you who promised to obey.’

‘But not to obey you. I said the words when I thought you were Kenton. I promised loyalty to a man who does not exist.’

‘The majority of women who marry would say the same thing. I fail to see why I owe an alteration of my behaviour to you, if you were not aware of the fact that marriage changes everything between us. Now hush, woman, and cease your nagging. I am trying to think.’ He leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes with a blissful smile upon his face.

Marriage changed everything. He was right in that, at least. For the moment, it left her completely dependent on the man across from her, for she could think of no way to explain away what had happened without making matters even worse than they were. Jack had stopped whistling, though she doubted it was in an effort to spare her nerves. But she found the silence even more annoying than the noise had been. ‘What are you thinking about?’ she said at last.

He opened one eye. ‘Are you to be one of those women, then? The sort that is continually trying to pry out the contents of a man’s head for their own entertainment?’

‘It is not entertainment that I desire. I merely wish to know what you have planned for our future together.’

‘Together?’ He laughed. ‘I do not plan any such thing. I am taking you to Spayne, just as he wished. He will explain as much or as little of his situation as he chooses. Between us, we will see if there is anything that can be salvaged of his original plan. You will help us. And when it is through, I will return to my life. Beyond that, we have no future together.’

The glee with which he contemplated the end of their connection hurt, although why it should she had no idea. She wanted to be rid of him as much as he wanted to break with her. ‘You seem to be angry at me, which is hardly fair.’ Had she not worked long and hard to mould herself into the perfect wife? The least he could do was appreciate her effort.

He was having none of it. ‘You deceived me.’

‘Only because you wanted to be deceived,’ she reminded him. ‘At no time did I promise you wealth, or an adequate settlement. Nor did my father. It was you who chose to assume that there was money rather than debt. I, on the other hand, had no reason to believe that you were not Viscount Kenton. I trusted your word as a gentleman.’

‘Just as your father trusted de Warde.’ He snorted. ‘The gentry is far too trusting, in my opinion. But you are right. I was a fool. Your sort have been lying to me my whole life and it was only now that I chose to see truth where there was none. I apologise for my bad temper.’

‘Apology accepted,’ she said uneasily. Had it been her imagination, or had she just won an argument with the man? Truly not, if she had to do it by claiming herself a liar. ‘But I did not lie to you. I merely omitted certain key portions of the truth. I took a gamble to gain your full attention. But I never claimed to be rich. You merely assumed it.’

‘Of course I did. You were well dressed, seen at all the finest parties and your father spent freely.’

‘Just as everyone else in society,’ she responded. ‘If you scratch the surface, you will find many in a similar predicament. It is hardly unusual.’

‘You claimed that you needed to marry. You pretended to be fond of me.’

‘But that was true,’ she insisted earnestly, glad that he was finally understanding her. ‘I did need to marry. And it would have been difficult to gain your attention any other way than kidnapping. You were the most sought-after man of the Season. Even if I’d have caught your eye, your interest would have waned when you realised that my family was inappropriate.’

‘As it did,’ he admitted. ‘Though it might have faded more slowly had I the chance to enjoy your favours, as I’d expected to.’

She gave a little gasp of shock to hear him freely admit that he’d meant to use her so, knowing full well that it would be a trick.

It did not seem to bother him in the least. He was still too focused on his own selfish complaints. ‘You did not need to claim an attraction where you felt none.’

But she had been attracted to him. There was no way to escape that, for he was a most handsome and charming fellow. And the kisses he’d given her, when she’d allowed it, had been quite wonderful. But she would not give him the satisfaction of knowing so and allowed herself a small white lie, by avoiding the accusation with a scoff. ‘You would have noticed no difference had we married.’

‘And this is what honesty is worth,’ he said with a dramatic gesture. ‘The least you could do, now that you are trapped with me, is to spare my feelings and pretend that you once liked me.’

She had not intended to hurt his feelings, not that she truly believed he had them. ‘I liked you as well as any other man,’ she allowed. ‘I have always known that the match I would make might be decided after a brief acquaintance, and based on fondness rather than grand passion. Had we married in truth, I would have given you the same wholehearted devotion that I’d have given to any other man.’

If possible, he looked even more injured. ‘It is faint praise to know that any man could have taken my place and received similar affection.’

‘You would not have minded, I assure you.’ She raised her head with pride at her one accomplishment. ‘I have been properly educated on that score and would have made you a fine wife.’

‘This I must hear,’ he said with a lascivious smile. ‘Tell me what sort of education you have that would lead us to be in the situation we are sharing. Did it involve tricking men into having you? Or are there other skills I might appreciate?’ He gave a waggle of eyebrow to imply the sorts of things her mother had all too candidly explained to her.

‘I have no idea what you are talking about.’ She did her best, but the thought that he might see easily through the falsehood was acutely embarrassing. ‘I know all that is important for a wife to know. I can sing and dance and play the pianoforte. My watercolours are deemed to be quite good. I can net a purse and embroider with silks. I can manage the servants of a large household and plan all sorts of entertainments. My manners are impeccable, whether on a morning visit to a friend or a court presentation. In addition, I am quite well read, can speak and understand French and read a bit of Italian. Most importantly, I am willing to be led in all things by the wisdom of my husband. What more could a man expect?’

‘I stand corrected,’ Jack said with an ironic smile. ‘Apparently, you are all I could want. The fact that you are poor as a church mouse and cannot hide your contempt for me does not enter into the equation.’

‘The poverty cannot be helped. It was not my doing. And I hold you in contempt because you lied to me,’ she said. ‘You pretended to be someone you were not. Your name, your family, your stories of India—not a word of it was true.’

‘I was acting,’ he insisted. ‘I played the role I was hired for.’

‘But I believed in you and your stories.’ And she was most thoroughly disappointed to find that the man she had convinced herself she could love did not exist at all.

He brightened. ‘Which is proof that I am a better actor than I have been given credit for. I wish, my dear, that I could take you to meet some of my critics and show to them how completely convincing I am in this part. They would take back what they said about my performance of Mordaunt Exbury in Love and Fashion. They said I was not lordly enough,’ he added indignantly. ‘And some wag in the audience had the nerve to throw a rotten potato.’

‘I hope he hit you, you miserable cur,’ Thea said with sincerity. ‘You stood before God and lied through your teeth about staying with me until we were parted by death.’

‘And as far as you knew, we would have been.’ He thought for moment. ‘It is almost the truth, when you think about it. A real Kenton existed. But he is, in fact, dead.’ He smiled at her in encouragement. ‘Perhaps you are already a widow.’

‘But I did not wish to be his widow. I wished to be his wife. And in any case, I did not marry that man, rest his soul. I married you.’ She raised a finger in a dire gesture of accusation, hoping that he would see the difference and the dilemma it put her in.

He caught her hand out of the air and pressed it to his lips for a quick kiss. ‘And we must endeavour to make the best of that unfortunate mistake. We are just coming to Spayne Court. Let us tell all to the earl and see what he makes of it. I am sure that, once he has explained the advantages of the situation, you will be a most happy widow.’

‘Once I know you better, I am sure I shall.’ She snatched her hand back from his, ignoring the tingling in the fingers where his lips had touched it, and hurried to exit the coach as soon as the servants could open the door.