Chapter Sixteen
As arranged, the orchestra was finishing up a waltz a few minutes before midnight. Damian glanced around for Pamela.
This was the moment he had chosen to reveal her identity. To ruin her in the eyes of society.
He gave a sigh of relief as he saw her making her way to the ballroom doors. His plan had been to ask her to dance with him. One last dance, right before the unmasking, and then—
But of course he had not. Could not do so.
The thought of hurting her, of causing her any sort of pain, made him feel physically ill.
Call him a coward, dishonourable, whatever it was his father would have thought of him, he wasn’t going to ruin an innocent woman because her mother and father had behaved badly to his parents.
At least Long had not escaped his net. He had arranged for his man of business to drop a word or two in several gossips’ ears and they had done the rest. He just wished he didn’t feel sorry for Long. Or regret that Pamela would never forgive him.
Dammit all.
He smiled at a lady dressed as a shepherdess, leaving the floor with a gentleman dressed as Pan. ‘Ready for the unmasking?’ he asked.
She giggled.
Pleased that no harm would come to Pamela, Damian felt suddenly lighter and happier as he strode for the dais.
Everyone was chattering and laughing excitedly as they waited to remove their masks.
Something made him glance over towards the double door. A sort of stir among the crowd. To his horror he saw that Pamela had not left.
She was standing alongside Pip. It took a moment to realise that the reason she had not departed was because Pip had hold of her arm.
The clock struck twelve.
Pip looked over at him, expectantly.
Devil take it, he had not told his friend he had changed his mind. Had not thought to. He shook his head.
He saw comprehension dawn on his friend’s face and his grip on Pamela’s arm relax.
She looked from Pip to him and back. Her eyes widened.
He made a shooing motion with his hand and saw her move toward the door.
He breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Let reason prevail. Let all our revellers be revealed,’ he called out as expected. He removed his mask.
Around the room people untied the strings of their disguises, laughing and exclaiming as the people around them were revealed.
Footmen moved among the guests with trays and drinks.
‘A toast, ladies and gentlemen. To King and Country.’
‘The King,’ everyone said.
‘To our host,’ someone called out.
‘Dart,’ chorused around the room.
A commotion beside the doors caught his attention. He stared in shock. Pamela was standing in the entrance, her mask gone, held in the hand of a drunken reveller dressed as Henry the VIII, if he wasn’t mistaken. The man was trying to snatch a kiss. As he pulled her close, her wig came off and her chestnut hair cascaded around her shoulders.
‘Unhand me,’ Pamela said.
‘Oh, my goodness,’ a woman said in the sudden silence. ‘Pamela Lamb, is that really you? But I thought you were...’ Everyone looked from Pamela to Damian.
Damian’s heart went cold like ice and his stomach fell away.
A buzz of shock rippled through the room. He could see her mother collapsed against her stepfather with shock.
By the time he made it across the room, Pamela was gone.
Dear God. What had he done?
Exactly what he had set out to do.
Although the ton had been thoroughly titillated by the scandal at his ball, two days later, Damian was still dealing with the aftermath of what in his mind he could only think of as a debacle.
After long and hard reflection during his sojourn at Rake Hall, he had returned to London having decided that punishing the Longs would be revenge enough, since it was Long’s father who had been the chief instigator of the fraud. That he was still alive to see his only son ruined made it doubly sweet. Pamela’s father, on the other hand, was long gone, so would not know the sting of shame.
He had felt as guilty as hell, coming to such a conclusion, but had been able to rationalise it as justice, a fair punishment for a guilty man, rather than revenge on an innocent woman.
But, despite his best efforts, he had failed to save Pamela from his own machinations, because some drunken lout had taken a fancy to seeing her unmasked. If only he had let Pip in on his decision, all might have been well, but truth to tell he’d been somewhat ashamed of his weakness when it came to Pamela. He’d thought she would simply slip away as she had planned and that would be an end to it.
To Damian’s astonishment, the following morning, Long had come up with the money he owed and demanded that Damian let everyone know he had not reneged on his debt of honour.
Although Long was one day late, no one among the upper one thousand would fault him for that and so Damian had been forced to spend the last two days making sure the damage was undone.
The fact that Pamela had been unmasked and that the Longs had got off scot-free after all had been a bitter pill.
Knowing Pamela would have been pleased Long was not ostracised, did not make it any easier to swallow. To make it worse, she and everyone associated with her had been turned into pariahs.
And he’d thought he’d had it all under control.
He hadn’t felt like such a failure since the day his mother died.
He’d been too much of a coward to save his mother and now he’d all but destroyed the woman—he had to face it—the woman he loved. This time, no matter what it took, he was going to set things right.
The moment he could break free of the Long nonsense, Damian had set off for the cottage she had purchased. Only to discover she had not purchased it at all. Another family had moved in.
Where the devil had she gone?
He had tried her mother’s house, but she had been shocked when he asked about her ‘wayward daughter’ as she called her and denied any knowledge of Pamela’s whereabouts and never wanted to see her again.
Clearly all she could think about was salvaging her own reputation by distancing herself from her child.
And so, here he was back at his town house, trying to guess where Pamela might have gone while Pip regarded him with sympathy. ‘Have you tried the agency where you found her before?’
‘I did. No luck there.’
Pip pursed his lips. ‘Let me see what I can discover.’
‘If I have failed to find her, I don’t know why you think you would succeed,’ Damian flung at him. ‘Why the devil did she not buy that cottage? She was so taken with it. I suppose she must have bought something else.’
‘I have the answer for that, mon ami. After a few discreet enquiries, I have discovered that it was Pamela who gave Long the money to pay his debt.’
Damian groaned. ‘I should have known she would do something like that.’
‘Indeed.’
The pain in his chest felt as though a knife had pierced his heart.
And now she was out there somewhere without a penny to her name and no doubt hating him.
The pain grew worse at the thought of where she might be with no friends and no money.
Pip frowned. ‘You know, she is very friendly with her maid, Susan, who left when she did. She said she had no reason to stay, now her mistress was gone. Perhaps they are together. Or her family might know something.’
A tiny seed of hope germinated in his heart.
‘Why did you not say so before?’
‘I did not think of it before.’
‘Do you have an address?’
‘As luck would have it, I do.’
Seated on Susan’s bed in the tiny attic chamber in a tenement in the Seven Dials, Pamela stared blindly at the newspaper she had in her hand. A week had passed since the ball and she still felt numb from the realisation that Damian had intended to reveal her true identity. He and Pip had planned it all along.
She had seen the guilty looks on their faces. They had known exactly what they were doing.
Her heart squeezed painfully. Why on earth would he do that? What had she ever done to him? Surely not because he had discovered she intended to help Long.
How cruel. Even the enveloping numbness could not dull the pain.
But she could not remain here sobbing her heart out because of Damian. She was imposing on Susan and her family and that she must not do for any longer than necessary.
She made herself read the notices for cooks wanted. Naturally, all of them required references. And where was she supposed to get those?
Certainly not Damian.
She had her references from earlier positions but a gap would always be seen as a red flag to a potential employer.
‘You should open a pie shop,’ Susan said from her chair by the window, where she was mending her stockings. ‘Your pies are delicious. I would eat it every night, if you did. You would make a fortune.’
She had been cooking for the family over the fire as a way of paying her rent.
‘It costs a great deal to set up a shop,’ Pamela said. ‘Money for rent and pots and pans and food to cook.’ She had not a penny to her name. She had given everything to Mr Long. And she was glad she had stopped Damian from his cruelty.
A commotion in the street brought Susan to her feet and peering down from the tiny dormer window.
‘Oh-ho! Who is this a-parking a carriage outside?’
Pamela ran to look. ‘Oh, no. Dart. Why on earth did he think of coming here? Don’t let him in.’
Susan ran downstairs to the front door. Pamela could hear the sound of arguing voices, but not what they said.
Heavy footsteps on the stairs told her that Susan had not been successful in keeping Dart out. She froze.
Should she hide?
Why? She had no reason to hide. She had no reason to be ashamed. How dare he come chasing after her!
He knocked on the door.
‘Who is it?’ she called out.
‘You know very well who it is.’
Her heart was racing so hard she could scarcely utter another word. ‘Go away.’
‘No.’
Typical Dart.
‘What do you want?’
‘I want to explain.’
She frowned. That she had not expected. Rather she might have expected him to demand an explanation for her sudden disappearance. ‘Explain what?’
‘Pamela, may I come in?’
‘And if I say no?’
‘Then I will wait out here until you say yes.’
She sighed. ‘Very well, come in if you must.’ She folded her arms over her chest.
The door opened to reveal Dart with an anxious-looking Susan peering around him.
‘It is all right, Susan. I will speak to His Lordship. Please give us a few minutes.’
The girl nodded. ‘I’ll be downstairs. Give a shout if you need me.’ She gave Dart a pointed glare and left muttering something about people barging into other people’s homes.
Damian winced. ‘I couldn’t do anything else. She was determined to keep me out.’
‘You should have taken no for an answer.’
‘I needed to speak with you.’
‘I don’t think we have anything to say to each other. Not only did you try to ruin poor Mr Long, you intended my ruin also.’
‘About that—’
‘I do not care to hear your excuses.’
The thought of it somehow seemed to penetrate the cold. It hurt. Badly. All over again. She turned away. Pretended to look out of the window, but could see nothing because her vision was blurred.
‘You don’t understand,’ he said.
‘No. I don’t. And I do not care to either. Please leave.’ Somehow she managed not to start sobbing.
‘Please. Give me a few minutes. To explain.’
‘Very well. Five minutes. I have a great deal to do today.’ Five minutes was about all she thought she could bear of the pain of seeing him here.
‘I made a promise to my father, when he was dying,’ he said softly, with a note of pleading in his voice. ‘I promised I wouldn’t let the people who ruined my family get away with it. My mother might have been alive now if they hadn’t cheated my father.’
She turned back slowly. ‘Long cheated your father? He couldn’t have.’
‘Not him. His father. He offered my father a chance to invest in a scheme he said would make him rich. Another man, a man my father thought was a good friend, encouraged him to borrow the money to invest. He couldn’t pay it back when the scheme collapsed. The scheme was a fraud.’
‘That is why you were brought up in France?’
‘Father was ruined. Left with nothing. We had to flee to France to avoid our creditors. To avoid prison. My mother was delicate. She could never have survived in prison.’ He gave a bitter laugh. ‘She didn’t survive the awful conditions in Marseilles either. Nor did my father for very long. I was fourteen when he died.’
‘How did you survive?’
‘I lived on the streets. Doing what I had to do. That is where I met Pip. But I swore to my father as he lay dying that I would avenge Mother’s death. That I would have justice for the way my father was cheated. It took me years to reach the point where I could return to England and keep my promise.’
The pain in his voice was tangible.
She sat down on the bed and gestured for him to do the same. ‘So you are punishing Long’s son? That hardly seems fair.’
‘It hardly seems fair that his son got to live a life of ease while I was forced to steal to eat.’
‘I see.’
‘My father said the sins of the father’s should be visited upon the children, as they were visited upon me.’
She frowned. ‘Are you saying my father was involved? Is that why...?’
Damian grimaced. ‘He was the one who talked my father in to borrowing the money to invest in the scheme. While he profited, my father lost everything.’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t believe you. He wasn’t the sort to—What sort of investment was it?’
‘Each person who brought a new person into the group got that person’s money less a percentage that was paid to Long and to the person who brought them in. My father was supposed to get someone else to join to get his money back. But shortly after he paid his money, he was told the group collapsed.’
‘That sounds like robbing Peter to pay Paul.’ And it also sounded very familiar.
‘Exactly. It was a scam. Only the people who invested early profited. The ones who came later lost their money. It was your father, a supposed friend, no less, who convinced my father to join.’
‘So I was another of the children of a sinner, to be punished. I will have you know that my father would never cheat anyone. Not knowingly. He wasn’t that sort of person.’
‘I couldn’t do it. I—I care for you too much. I—’
Hearing him say he cared for her would have made her heart sing only a couple of weeks ago, but now she didn’t know how she felt.
‘Well, you accomplished your goal. I am well and truly beyond the pale now. So I hope you are happy.’
‘I am not in the least happy.’
‘And you continued with your plan to ruin Mr Long despite telling me you would think about it.’
‘To keep my promise to my father. You must see that I had to avenge my mother’s death. I swore I would.’
‘And now you have. I hope you are happy.’
He looked miserable. ‘Long paid his debt. So I achieved nothing.’
‘You achieved my ruin.’
‘In the end, it was not what I wanted. I had decided justice would be served if only Long fell. Please. You have to believe me.’
‘Believe you or not, it is done.’
He took a deep breath. ‘Not necessarily. If we marry—’
She stared at him, incredulously. ‘Marry? Why would I marry you?’
The pain those words caused in Damian’s chest robbed him of speech.
Why indeed?
He couldn’t actually think of a good reason, except that it would salvage her reputation in the eyes of society. He was losing her and he had to somehow find a way not to.
‘When it came to it, I realised I could not do anything that would hurt you. I did not intend for your identity to be revealed. If Pip—’
‘Pip knew what you were about? He was in on the plot? I trusted you both.’ She could not keep the bitterness out of her voice. They had lured her in with the promise of money. ‘What a fool you must think me.’
‘No! I do not think you a fool. I think you are the most wonderful woman I ever met.’
Her expression was incredulous.
‘I don’t blame you for being angry, but please do not blame Pip. It was all my doing. Please. Let me make amends.’
She shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter to me. I care nothing for what society thinks of me. It doesn’t make the slightest difference in my life as a cook. The only thing I need from you is a letter of reference.’
‘I—I love you,’ he blurted out. The only thing he could do now was to be absolutely honest. Anything less would be an insult to her intelligence. And if she did not feel the same way about him, then so be it.
And the pain at that thought seemed ten times worse.
‘I love you,’ he said again, this time with more confidence. More conviction. ‘And so I will tell you every day until you believe me. And I will never stop trying to win you, unless you marry someone else. I mean it. I will be on your doorstep every day.’
She stifled a rueful chuckle. ‘I can just imagine my next employer putting up with so determined a follower.’ She turned her face away. ‘How can I know you mean it? How can I trust you? As far as I can see, you are driven by guilt, not love.’
He cupped her cheek in his hand and turned her face towards him. He gazed into her eyes, the soft dove grey that held so much pain. Pain he had put there.
‘Never in my adult life have I ever told anyone I loved them. I have been too busy planning how I would accomplish my goals. With you it is different. I need you. Unless you are near, I am not happy. You make me want to be better than I am.’
Her expression remained doubtful. He truly had lost her trust. Until now he had not realised how important that trust had been.
His case was hopeless.
How could he even consider forcing her to do anything she did not want to do? ‘I’m sorry. I am being selfish. If you do not return my feelings, if marriage to me is not what you want, then I will accept your decision. Leave you in peace even though it will break my heart.’
She sighed. ‘You would truly leave me in peace?’
A pain squeezed in his chest. He closed his eyes briefly. ‘It will not be easy, but I will do it, if that is what you want. It is as simple as this: my happiness is yours to command, but your happiness means more.’
She stared at him for long moments as if trying to read what was in his heart.
‘I love you, Pamela,’ he said softly. ‘I want only what is best for you. If you want that cottage of by the sea, it is yours. If you want to be a cook, I will arrange for a position with a friend. If there is some other dream you wish to fulfil, I will do my best to bring it about.’
‘What about your promise to your father?’
His heart ached at the doubt he heard in her voice. ‘Long’s father should have been punished. He should not have been allowed to hide what he did behind the skirts of respectability. But... I let my quest for revenge take over my life and it has cost me the best thing that ever happened to me.’
She sat silent for a while, staring into space, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. He did not know what he was going to do when she told him to leave.
‘I need to know the truth, Damian. I don’t believe my father would have had anything to do with a scheme to defraud others of their money.’
‘That is what you want?’ How the hell was he to find the answer to that?
‘My father was judged guilty by your father, by you. If he did what you said he did, then will it not always stand between us?’
A smidgeon of hope filled his chest. ‘I would not allow it.’
She pursed her lips. ‘The past would always be there whenever you think of your mother, when you visit your childhood home. It would be there, lying in wait, like some dark vengeful beast, waiting for a moment of weakness.’
‘You paint a grim picture of me.’
‘You loved your mother. You lost her when you were still a child. You still carry the pain of her loss. Can you forgive those who caused her death?’
He closed his eyes and for the first time in a long time remembered the days before she died. The slow wasting away of a beautiful soul. The anger rose inside him. He hung his head. ‘I cannot forgive.’
‘Then I need to know the truth.’
‘There is only one person who might know the truth of it.’
‘My mother.’
‘Are you willing to ask her?’
She let out a breath. ‘I am.’
Damian tamped down his hope. After his earlier conversation with Lady Malcom, he feared she would not be helpful.