Chapter Two
By the time Benjamin was shown into the private quarters of Mrs. Dove-Lyon, the empty bottle of spirits had been tossed aside at the front door and he was having trouble focusing on what was in front of him.
However, the lady had no such hesitation as she strode in like a queen dominating her domain.
But he supposed the Lyon’s Den was her livelihood.
At least, for as long as she could maintain her reputation.
If Benjamin had anything to say about it, she would soon find herself in dire straits.
Maybe then she would learn not to interfere in other people’s lives for her own amusements.
“I was hoping we might have a chance to speak while you were sober, but I can see that is not the case. Wishful thinking on my part, I’m afraid.”
Benjamin glowered at the Black Widow as she took a seat in front of him.
Mrs. Dove-Lyon was dressed in widow’s weeds, as usual.
He tried to remember how long she’d actually been in mourning and decided that it didn’t really matter.
If she thought wearing black would intimidate her victims somehow, she would learn that she was sadly mistaken when it came to him.
She lifted a brow. “Nothing to say? Very well. I shall get to the point of our meeting.”
“That would be preferable. I didn’t come here on a social call.”
“No, you did not,” she concurred, making a point to ignore the sarcasm dripping from his tone. “I have a proposition for you that I feel you won’t want to refuse.”
“I’m all agog.”
Her mouth thinned, the only indication of her annoyance. “The Duke of Lancaster has a daughter of marriageable age. Her name is Lady Catherine Cecil. I wish for you to marry her.”
It took a moment for the woman’s words to penetrate the fog surrounding Benjamin’s brain, but once it did, he burst out laughing. “Is this some kind of sick game you enjoy playing?” He got to his feet. “You, madam, are mad if you think I will ever—”
“I know what happened to your wife and son, as well as the dire circumstances you have thrust yourself into yet again at the gaming tables.”
He found his balance to be lacking, so he reached out and grasped the mantel. “You are a viper,” he snapped.
“Because I am well informed?” she countered. “That doesn’t make me a bad person, Lord Fontaine. It just makes me aware of any possible clientele.”
He gave another sharp bark of laughter. “As if I would ever do any favors for you! It’s because of your unjust manipulations that I am in the situation I currently am.”
She snorted. “You cannot blame me for your failings. If you truly wish to direct the finger of blame at anyone, you should be directing it at yourself.”
Benjamin blinked. Murderer…
He screwed his eyes tightly shut. “Stop it! Get out of my head!”
“Lord Fontaine…”
He heard Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s voice coming from a distance, but it was overpowered by that of his late wife whispering through his drunken stupor.
Benjamin backed up a few steps and turned to make an escape, anything but to remain and face this torture any longer, but he tripped over a rug on the floor and soon found himself flat on the floor.
“Look at you. Your life is a mess, Lord Fontaine. You are bordering on the brink of madness, unable to take care of yourself.”
Benjamin had a few choice words for the lady, but he couldn’t seem to bring them forth. Instead, his conscience whispered in betrayal, You can’t argue because she’s right.
Refusing to give in to her demands, he pulled himself back to his feet. “I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone.”
“I can see that,” she returned dryly. “But Lady Catherine needs you. As does her unborn child.”
Something clicked in Benjamin’s brain. He could feel the blood drain from his face as he looked at the Black Widow. “Did you say… child?”
“Yes. She had an affair with the groom at her father’s estate and is in danger of losing everything, most certainly her reputation.
The duke is prepared to pay handsomely for the discreet handling of his daughter’s condition in addition to the sizeable dowry, which would cover your latest round of debts on which you squandered your late wife’s inheritance and allow for a comfortable life going forward.
” She paused, as if to allow that to sink in before she added, “There will be some stipulations if you agree, of course.”
Benjamin was still unsteady on his feet, but this time, it was for a different reason. “I can’t go through that again.” He wasn’t certain that he was making any sort of sense, but she seemed to understand.
Her tone softened slightly. “I know it must have been difficult. At least, for some part of you that still retains some semblance of empathy.”
At her quip, his annoyance swiftly began to return. “If I’m such a ne’er-do-well, why consider me as a prospect for this chit?”
She tilted her head to the side. “Because I have noticed a chance for improvement in you in recent months. I despaired that once the former Miss Bookbinder wed Laird Garrison, you would allow your hatred to consume you. But with the death of your mother, and then your wife and child soon thereafter, I realized that everyone deserves a second chance, so long as they seem contrite about their past transgressions.”
He narrowed his gaze. “Who says I regret anything?”
Her focus was just as steady. “Don’t you?”
He didn’t want to admit anything to her, but he found that one damning syllable spilling forth quite freely. “Yes.”
“Then there is hope for you yet, Lord Fontaine. The question that remains is are you willing to put forth the effort to become a changed man worthy of the opportunity you are being presented?”
Again, he found the truth escaping. “I can’t answer that.”
She smiled slightly. “I appreciate your honesty, if nothing else.” She got up and moved to a side table, where she picked up an envelope, and then handed it to him. “These are the rules set down by the duke. If you agree to his terms, then I shall give him the happy news.”
Benjamin looked at the package in his grasp as if he weren’t sure what to do next.
And honestly, he couldn’t say he was. “Do I not get to see this chit before I marry her?” God, he was speaking as though the deal were already completed.
But perhaps it was. It wasn’t as though he had much else to do.
If he kept gambling and drinking as he was, he would either be dead or destitute. Neither scenario appealed.
She didn’t change her expression. “Does it matter if this union might save your irredeemable soul?”
“I guess it doesn’t really matter. It’s not as though she is my choice.” He glared at her. “Or that I have one.” He removed the sheet of papers from the package and looked at his hostess. “Where do I sign?”
The next morning when Catherine was summoned to her father’s study, she knew that it wouldn’t be good news. However, she hadn’t anticipated the entire collapse of her whole existence.
Without the paper in front of him, the duke folded his hands on his desk and regarded her as coolly as if he were dealing with a difficult business associate.
“The marriage contract was delivered to me last night. You are to be wed at eleven o’clock this morning.
The servants have been instructed to pack up your things and once the deed is done, you shall begin your new life as a respectable wife and depart with your husband to your next home. ”
Catherine gaped at him in shock, and then it quickly turned to outrage as he began to scratch something in his ledgers as if that were the end of their conversation.
And it might have been so, had she been the biddable daughter he expected her to be.
“Am I not given the courtesy of the name of the man who shall be my husband?”
He glanced back at her and then paused to review the paper at his elbow. It infuriated her even further to think that he couldn’t recall the name of his future son-in-law, the man who would marry his only daughter. “It’s Baron Fontaine.”
She blinked. “A baron? Mother said she would settle for nothing less than an earl for my hand.”
“Things change,” he returned dryly, making a point to stare at her slightly rounded abdomen. Although her lady’s maid had let out some of her gowns and tightened her stays as much as possible, it was getting more difficult to conceal her condition.
She waited for something else to be said, but when he returned to his duties, she couldn’t resist throwing a hateful barb in her father’s direction. “Did you ever love me at all?”
He paused again, but this time when he raised his focus, there was the same dreaded emptiness in his gaze.
“You don’t seem to understand the position our family has, Catherine.
” He still spoke to her as though she were a child and it caused her hands to clench at her sides in frustration.
But to retaliate and speak up on her behalf, to attempt to defend herself, would only drive the wedge further between them.
She’d learned long ago that the best thing to do was to remain silent.
But if this was to be her last morning under her parents’ roof, she meant to have the truth from him.
“Your brothers, Frank and George, have always been my primary concerns. It has nothing to do with loving one child more than another, but the necessity to instill in them all that the Lancaster estate entails when it is passed to one of them. I left your upbringing to your mother and your governess and ensured that you had the best education that money could buy to make certain you had a successful London season. And it appeared you had done so this past spring, but while you were uncertain which proposal you wanted to accept, I decided to allow the matter to rest while we retired to the country for the summer. But that is when you chose to ignore your duties to this family and act with such careless abandon.” He paused.
“Do I love you? Currently, I find it difficult to admire your actions.”