Silk and Scandal Page 12

  “Yes. Many times we take care of each other. After Charlotte died, I had nowhere to put my grief and my rage. Her death could not be in vain. In tribute, I established this sanctuary. It is a place of protection that my sister never had.”

  “She had you, did she not?”

  “Not really. In the end, I was worthless to her.”

  “How can you possibly say that? You loved her.”

  Eliza’s words turned scathing, her voice became bitter. “More than my life. That much is true. But I am at fault for realizing something was wrong and doing nothing about it. I asked, of course, but she continually assured me it was melancholy only.” She placed her palm over her heart. “But I knew, Nicholas! I knew it was something more; I just never dreamed the bastard hurt her. Every day, every night, she suffered untold agonies.”

  Tears of impotent rage filled her eyes and her voice softened. “The night she died, I swear I felt her soul move through my body. It was late, and I was abed. As unbelievable as it may sound, it was almost as if a strong force entered my body, drifted through my soul, then drew slowly away. Somehow I knew my Lottie was gone.”

  “I am so sorry.”

  “You will keep my secret?”

  “Of course. My darling, noble girl, how proud I am of your compassion.”

  Eliza frowned. “I am not that good, Nicholas. Truly. Charlotte House feels more like a sop to my guilt for not helping my sister.”

  “Nonsense.” He stroked his thumb over the curve of her cheek. “Do your parents know?”

  She shook her head. “No. Though they would, I am sure, approve and even help in this endeavor. Being around these ladies, however, would only serve to remind them of their own loss. There has been too much pain in my home already. No, this is something I have undertaken all on my own. What else could I do with all my wealth but help when there is such need?”

  “You constantly surprise me.”

  She laughed lightly. “Sometimes I surprise myself. I was never kind as a child. Lottie was the soft-hearted one.”

  “You are more like her than you know.”

  “What a nice compliment. I wish you could have known her.”

  Her voice, gentle and tender as she spoke of Lottie, moved him deeply. Tightening his arms slightly around her, he kissed her forehead and closed his eyes. Truth to tell, he could not wait to make her his. There were depths to Eliza he had yet to uncover and he relished the opportunity to know her fully.

  As evening began to spread over the countryside, Nicholas glanced at his pocket watch and closed the book he read from. The volume of Lord Bryon’s poetry and his reading aloud of it seemed to calm the assembled group but it was time they made the short trip back to London where Eliza’s parents awaited.

  “Are you certain you cannot stay for dinner?” Kathleen asked. “Surely you must eat something before the ride into town.”

  “No, we must be off. This day has been a trial for all of us and we must be off.” As good-byes were said and Eliza and her maid exited the house, the other ladies walking with them, he paused, noting that Caroline alone remained behind. She watched the group solemnly then looked at him. “You are much in love with her, are you not?”

  In love?

  The words hit him like a punch. His world reeled. Readily, he acknowledged wanting Eliza to fall in love with him. Things would proceed more smoothly if she felt love, yet himself? No, he wasn’t ready to be a slave to those tender feelings. “I... uh—”

  “It is all right, Your Grace,” she said with a nod. “You need not answer, for your expression speaks for itself. In my experience, men do not readily admit to having more delicate emotions.”

  He managed a faint smile. “Women are indeed most intuitive creatures. I do care for Eliza and believe we suit.”

  Caroline laughed and surprised him by patting his arm. “Yes, I believe you care for her though you hesitate in your admission but if it helps, I have come to know Eliza and she is not a woman to let herself be vulnerable unless the man she loves, loves her in return. That she brought you here and shared her greatest secret speaks volumes about her feelings.”

  Love him? Did she love him?

  It was a provocative thought and one that warmed him to his toes. For him, love had been an elusive thing since the untimely death of his mother. The hurt that had accompanied it had left him wary of truly giving his affection. Could Eliza’s feelings, if indeed she had them, change all that? Visions of a future bright with love and happiness teased his imagination.

  Perhaps he could, at last, stop traveling the world in search of peace and finally shake off the deep hatred he felt for his father. Nicholas hoped that, by becoming a husband and hopefully a parent, he might come to believe that a man didn’t necessarily inherit the weaknesses of his sire. Could love accomplish all of that? He could only hope.

  Chapter Nine

  The Countess Fitzgerald lounged indolently among the sheets of her rumpled bed and watched Park from beneath lowered lids. He was fully aware of her regard and knew he’d pleased her between the sheets. She believed him dull-witted, just one spoke short of a functioning wheel, but her beliefs simply worked to his advantage. All was going according to plan.

  “Have I told you how lovely you look this morning?” he asked from his position at the foot of her bed. He raked his gaze over her body and watched her preen. No woman alive possessed the self-aware vanity as did Bea and he used that knowledge to his advantage.

  “Yes, my handsome fellow, but you may tell me again.”

  He laughed. “Very well then. You look lovely this morning.”

  Beatrice licked her lips, apparently satisfied by the praise, and settled back among her pillows. Plucking the morning issue of The Times from her breakfast tray, she reclined, sighing as the crackle of paper accompanied the clink of Park’s cup touching saucer.

  He watched her turn immediately to the gossip section.

  “Umm. Very interesting. It seems Lord Marchmont has a new light-of-love and he has fought a duel over the stupid chit. One wonders what Lady Marchmont thinks of such an occurrence.”

  “I would imagine she knows very little about it as the Countess is noted for being a bit vague. The laudanum addiction, no doubt.” He set aside his breakfast plate and stood to stretch his tired muscles. As planned, her attention returned to him.

  “Just look at all that golden skin,” she murmured. “However do you manage to get that way, Park. It is quite unusual. You truly are an exquisite specimen and all mine. My own personal plaything. How lucky for me.”

  He hid a grimace of distaste as she returned her attention to the gossip at hand. Easily dismissed again, he thought as a quick flash of anger came and went. Effectively masking his pique, he turned to the service trolley and lifted a silver pot. “More chocolate, love?”

  “Hmm?” She looked up from the paper, once again distracted. “I suppose.”

  As the sweet liquid splashed at the bottom of her china cup, thick steam rolled fragrantly upward. Barefoot and wearing only his breeches, he sprawled into a nearby chair, crossing his legs at the ankle. He gazed around the decadent boudoir and allowed his mind wander as she read.

  Bea’s chamber bore the mark of a woman who enjoyed her pleasures. Resembling a sultan’s harem, the walls were veiled with silken fabrics of purple and gold. Erotic statuary obscenely graced both table and floor, making him wince.

  Once he won Nicholas’s wealth and title, he would entertain himself with virginal debutantes. The cream of society, one of the loveliest and most genteel would be his bride. Never again would he settle for coarse women who made him feel dirty at their slightest touch.

  Lady Fitzgerald truly was a pathetic female. Realistically, he knew he was no better. After all, he was a man who gave himself to women and let himself become whatever they wanted.

  Without her knowing, he gave Bea a long hard look. Beneath her diaphanous shell-pink peignoir, she was naked and pale. The self-indulgent bitch pictured herself s
ome sort of goddess, he supposed, for she had definitely rouged the nipples of her slightly sagging breasts. There was nothing more pathetic than an older woman attempting to revisit her youth.

  Beatrice looked up. “You seem deep in thought, Park, but you couldn’t be, could you?”

  She laughed at her jest, and he felt his anger surge hot and molten. He was well aware she thought him stupid. Soon she would learn the truth.

  He smiled innocently, comfortable with the charade he must play. “I was merely admiring your beauty. I am a lucky fellow.”

  Hag!

  Park gloated privately at his thoughts and only wished it was time to speak them aloud.

  Beatrice, with her wicked, manipulative mind, would help him gain what he needed to live. Title and fortune. Once accomplished, he would never again need to lower himself to servicing women he detested.

  Recalling how his life had progressed to this point, he was sickened to the point of pain.

  Bea’s son, Stephen, was to court the woman his cousin, Nicholas, wished to wed and if fortune was with Park, Nicholas’ birthday would come and go without a wedding. Once the title passed to himself, he could leave women like Lady Fitzgerald to the devil. Thinking ahead to the fortune that would soon be his, Park stood and made his way to the commode and a small basin of water. He lifted a fresh bar of sandalwood soap and gave it an appreciative sniff. It seemed the she-wolf could be considerate if it suited her mood. Lathering a soft cloth, he washed.

  Sometime later, a screech of rage rent the air, disturbing his quiet enjoyment as Beatrice flew from the bed, arms slashing wildly through the air like a woman possessed.

  Razor halted midair, Park froze. “Wha—”

  “You dolt!” she cried, hitting him about the face and shoulders with her copy of The Times. “How could you let this happen?”

  “What? What! Stop that! Are you crazed?”

  The paper fluttered to the floral carpet.

  “The bans have been read, Park. Nicholas and Eliza have become engaged.”

  Damnation!

  He put down the razor and wiped his half-shaven face with a towel. “What the bloody hell? We were so careful to watch every move.”

  Bea slapped at his chest. Her face was mottled with rage, making her quite unattractive. Knowing he must calm her before she did him harm, he clasped her wrists and brought them behind her back. Urging her against his bare chest, he cajoled her before she lost control completely.

  “Do not upset yourself, darling,” he said. “Come sit with me and we shall discuss this calmly, rationally.” He coaxed her to the edge of the bed and urged her to lean against him.

  “That bastard Duke,” she raged. “What could we have done to prevent this?”

  “Nothing. It is Stephen whom we must blame in this matter. Obviously, he has failed in seducing the lady from beneath my cousin’s nose.”

  Bea looked up, her dark eyes flashing retribution. “Drat that boy!”

  “Over and done with, my dear. It occurs to me that we shall have to use our wits to accomplish our goals.”

  “Yes, it is time to bare our claws.” Bea flounced off the bed to pace.

  Leaning back among the pillows she’d abandoned, he crossed his arms behind his head and watched. “Tell me, Bea, is there any truth to the rumor that Nicholas’s Chinese mistress lives with him?”

  “How should I know?”

  Park chuckled at last. “Perhaps we should learn the truth of the matter, hmm? It would be simple enough to hire someone to discover the validity of the gossip.”

  Her returning grin was pure evil. “Why, darling, sometimes you surprise me utterly.”

  He shrugged. “Even if the gossip is nothing but a lie, it is entirely possible Miss Grayson has not heard a snippet.”

  “Quite true and what of Eliza’s feud with Lord Stanhope?” Beatrice suddenly wore a complacent look. “We are not defeated yet, Park. Stephen may have disappointed us, but I vow we shall not lose in our endeavor. I witnessed a recent confrontation between Stanhope and our Eliza, and it makes me wonder. Do you suppose they were once lovers? Could that be a reason for their animosity?”

  Park shuddered. “Hard to imagine the two of them together, yet who would have paired him with the other one? Charlotte. She was every bit as lovely as her twin. I daresay it would not be hard to learn the story.”

  Warming to a wild idea, Beatrice began to speculate, pale eyes shining. “Could there be a connection to Charlotte’s death, do you think? What if Edward and Eliza were in love and together murdered the sister? How delicious! That, no doubt, would send her to Newgate Prison and a date with the hangman despite her family’s wealth. She would be dead, and Nicholas left without a bride. But we must be circumspect. Everyone has a skeleton or two in their closet. We should be certain to investigate every possibility.”

  Spirits lifted now that all was not lost, Park smiled in at her enthusiasm. “Poor Edward is not accepted in any home among the Ton. Friendless fellow that he is, he could surely use a boon companion, and I can always use another friend, my dear. Consider it done.”

  * * * * * * * *

  A bolt of jagged, bright yellow lightning slashed wildly across the background of deep gray sky as An Li rested her cheek against the cool glass and sighed. Though she preferred sunlight, she couldn’t help but admire the bright flash, the angry rumble of thunder, and the life-giving wetness of the lashing rain outside. Just a week ago, a storm much like this one had ravaged the skies. How much things had changed between one storm and the next. Nicholas had returned that night a week ago to inform her that he was to marry.

  An Li smiled. She was so happy for her friend even though it meant she would see him less. He had saved her and brought her to this beautiful land. She could only wish him happy. It would not do to tell him how very lonely she was with his frequent absences.

  Reminding herself that she was more comfortable alone than with others, she clutched a leather-bound book to her chest and kept her gaze fixed on the gardens just outside the French doors of Nicholas’s study. They were cracked open just a bit, and the bite of fresh air settled on her cheeks like a caress. She liked this room. There was a comforting smell about the place, a coziness she’d never known.

  Yellow jonquils, purple irises, and an array of vivid, red tulips in the garden beyond showed nature’s resilience as they bowed beneath the pounding rain only to proudly rise again, as if welcoming the challenge of survival.

  She was a survivor herself and easily accepted the fact. An Li had much in common with the fragile blooms just outside. Nicholas had many times over convinced her of that fact. Yes, she was free now and living a life more luxurious than she’d ever dreamed, yet she wondered now, as the rain roared an angry tune, what more was left to a woman with no honor?

  Silly thoughts. Destructive.

  Perhaps she’d allowed the gray day to affect her mood.

  Bolstering herself, drawing in a deep breath of fresh, rain-swept air, she drew her mind from the melancholy path it took. Forcing a smile, she turned from the garden view and sank, once again, into a large, luxuriously upholstered chair.

  Curling her bare feet within that welcome comfort, An Li opened her book and lost herself in a romantic tale of knights and their ladies. Oh, to be loved and treasured as those lofty heroines!

  In her young life, her world had taken many twists and turns, yet the most wondrous event of all had been the day Nicholas had begun to teach her to read. Ship-bound and restless on the long voyage from China, he had filled those desolate hours with the wonder of words.

  Reading made An Li feel smart, so she read voraciously and though it hadn’t eliminated her mutilation of the English language, she knew more about the world around her. As she didn’t often venture out, she spent her time mentally living the adventures of fantasy characters. Often they were beautiful, honorable, and graced with courage that she would never possess. The years living in Chang’s wicked household had stolen much of her life. On
ly through reading had she learned that mothers kissed their little girls and hugged them tightly. She now knew that children played silly games together. She had been deprived of those simple joys.

  A worthless child.

  A worthless woman.

  Letting the weather lull her senses, she continued to read, so deeply engrossed she failed to hear the snick of the door latch.

  A masculine clearing of throat caused her to lift her head in alarm. “I am sorry to disturb you, Miss An Li,” he said in a deep voice. “If this is a bad time, I shall leave you alone.”

  Stephen. Lord Darlington.

  It was as if sunlight burst inside of her. Since the day of their accidental meeting, he had been a constant visitor and she’d come to look forward to his visits in a way that was perhaps unseemly considering his station in the world versus her sad status. Yet, he was handsome and so absolutely charming, she had been unable to turn him away. He was a man of secrets. An Li understood secrets and how lonely it was to keep them. He touched a part of her that she’d long ago vowed to protect but there was something so infinitely lonely about him.

  Though it was dangerous to her heart, she could not send him away.

  The days he chose to visit were the best of her life. Loneliness, a constant companion, disappeared with his presence. Nicholas would be upset to know of the despair in which she lived. He was always so busy, and though he often talked with her deep into the evening, she spent her days alone. It had always been that way.

  An Li felt deep within that she was undeserving of love, yet she’d been buoyed by Stephen’s visits. Though he was no doubt a busy man, they laughed together and talked of many things. He treated her as a human and not an object, instantly endearing himself to her.

  Loneliness would not be her only friend today. Her heart thrilled at the sight of his face; her heartbeat quickened. Settling her book on a small table, she stood and smiled a welcome as he closed the distance between them. “Do not be silly, sir. I am too much alone. How nice it is to see you again.”