Chapter 20
“No,” Theodore said, so quickly that Rupert had barely even had a chance to absorb Miss Carlton’s words. He suspected that Theodore had seen it coming, which is why he’d had his answer ready so quickly.
He had to admit that it wounded him, that Ashford would rather see his sister ruined than married to him.
“Theodore…” Miss Carlton said, her voice exasperated. “You cannot just dismiss it out of hand! It is the only solution!”
“I can,” he said, “and I do. I will not allow my sister to be married off to the man who was irresponsible and disrespectful enough to compromise her! She deserves better than that! She deserves…”
“A man like Lord Pembroke?” Rupert interrupted coolly. Theodore turned fully around to face him, his face twisting with fury. Rupert didn’t care. “Whatever you may think of me, Ashford, I would never call her dishonorable. Nor would I ever insult her in any way.”
“You already have!” Theodore cried. “By ruining her!”
“She is not ruined,” Rupert said, as carefully and calmly as he could. “We are simply friends talking. Nothing has happened.”
Theodore’s jaw tightened. “That is not what matters. The ton believes…”
“I am not talking about what the ton believes,” Rupert interrupted.
“I am talking about her honor. She is not ruined.” He took a deep, steadying breath.
“However, considering that I have allowed this situation to continue in a way that looks compromising, I would like very much to make an offer of marriage to Miss Ashford.”
Theodore’s face froze, but Rupert turned away from him, looking instead at Beatrice, who also looked as if she had been paralyzed.
“Miss Ashford…” he murmured. “You know as well as I that this situation could cost you everything. Although it was never my intention to harm your reputation, and although I think of your honor as unimpeachable, I cannot help what society will think. And I would mitigate against that with everything I have. I would marry you and save you from any gossip or scandal that might try to harm you.”
Beatrice stared back at him blankly, as if she had not even heard him.
“It is not her choice to make,” Theodore growled from behind him.
“And why not?” Rupert said, throwing an irritated glance at Theodore. “As far as I am aware, it is always a lady’s decision whom she marries.”
Theodore puffed himself up. “This is a family decision now!” he cried. “And I will not allow her to be sullied forever by association with you!”
“Theodore!” Miss Carlton said sharply, and they all turned, once more, to look at her.
She glanced over her shoulder, then lowered her voice.
“This is not the time or place to discuss this. We should go somewhere safe and private. Nathaniel is not home at the moment, and our townhouse is close. Why do we not go there?”
Theodore looked at her angrily. “If you wish,” he snapped, and Beatrice was taken back by the anger in his voice. She had never heard him speak that way to Vivienne. Vivienne also looked confused and hurt, although she quickly smoothed her face back into a neutral expression.
Somehow, they all made it out of the house without drawing too much attention to themselves.
Rupert was sure that he would see suspicious mamas watching them as they made their way back into the corridor and toward the entrance hall, but no one seemed to notice them or care.
The poetry reading was still going in full force, and he could hear laughter and clapping from the parlor. It provided a welcome distraction.
Rupert had never been to Nathaniel Carlton’s townhouse before, and when he entered the hall he barely had a chance to glance around before Miss Carlton was whisking him away to the drawing room.
A fire was crackling in the grate, and candles had been lit in the sconces around the room, which was richly furnished with Louis XIV-style furnishings, long velvet curtains in dark blue, and wallpaper in the French, toile de jouy style with pastel blue and white pastoral drawings.
Once they were all inside, Miss Carlton poured whiskeys for them all, one of which she handed to Rupert. He took it gratefully, then looked at Beatrice. She was standing near the door, still looking too stunned to speak.
He moved toward her, with the intention of leading her to a sofa, but her brother got there first. He gave Rupert a look that said, Do not touch her, then led her over to an armchair and deposited her into it.
Only then did Theodore round on Rupert. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Rupert spoke.
“I understand why you dislike me,” he said, his voice low and, he hoped, conciliatory.
“I know that I was uncaring toward you when we were in school, that I did not stop my so-called friends from treating you unkindly. But you must understand, Ashford, that it was many years ago. I myself felt like an outsider among those boys. They were not my friends, and they were cruel to me as well. Moreover, we were just children! Children can be cruel and unfair, and I am not saying this as an excuse. I am sorry it happened. But I find it tiresome that you are holding this crime against me for all these years. Worse, I think it would be a tragedy to let your childhood resentment blind you to what might be the only solution to save your sister’s reputation.
I must marry Miss Ashford. It is the only way. ”
There was a long, heavy silence as Theodore stared at him, unblinking. Then at last, some of his body seemed to relax.
“I do appreciate the apology,” he said slowly. “But that is not the only reason I dislike you, St. James. It is also your reputation as a rake that offends me.”
“I am not a rake,” Rupert said, more loudly than he had intended.
“Perhaps when I was younger I had a few indiscreet moments. But they have been greatly exaggerated. And I care about your sister very deeply. We are friends. I respect her. I admire her. I have even had the privilege to read some of her poetry, and I think she is a true talent. As my wife, she would be honored and respected.”
Theodore’s jaw worked. He did not look convinced.
“You say this is the only way,” he said slowly, “but I do not agree. Yes, perhaps an engagement is necessary, to stymie any rumors that might already have cropped up. But just because there is an engagement does not mean there has to be a marriage.”
Rupert’s heart thudded painfully against his chest. “What do you mean?” he asked swiftly.
Theodore ran a finger along the edge of his glass, apparently thinking.
“We shall make an announcement about an engagement,” he said slowly, his eyes flickering to Miss Carlton, who was perched on the edge of a sofa and watching all of this apprehensively.
“That will appease anyone who might have heard any salacious tidbits. But then, after a few months, once the rumors and the gossip have died down, then you two will have some sort of ‘disagreement’ and my sister will call off the wedding.”
Beatrice’s face was as white as a sheet, and Rupert felt a deep, instinctive anger on her behalf. Her whole life was being decided for her. She looked too shocked to even move or speak, and he wanted, absurdly, to speak for her.
“But…” he began, but Theodore cut him off.
“After that,” Theodore continued, his voice harsher now, “she will return to France with her chaperone, where she will find someone else to marry. Someone more suitable. Someone who will not disgrace her or compromise her.”
Rupert’s face had gone very red, and it was with shaking fingers that he set down the glass of whiskey.
“And why is it that you think I would allow that?” he asked, his voice deadly and low.
“That I would agree to take your sister into my protection as her fiance, and then turn around and let her call off the engagement so that you can find someone ‘better’ for her? Do you think I have no pride? Or no care for your sister? That I would allow her reputation to be at risk with a broken engagement?”
“I think you will allow it,” Theodore said coldly, “because you do care for my sister, and you believe that she deserves better than you.”
Rupert felt as if he had been slapped in the face. If he were not determined to keep things civil for Beatrice’s sake, he might have called Theodore out right then and there. But there had been enough threats of duels this evening.
“You cannot be serious,” he snarled. “Because we had a disagreement when we were children and because I have falsely been called a rake, you think I am not good enough for your sister? I am a duke! I hold one of the highest titles in the land!”
“Do you?” Theodore straightened, pulling himself up to his full height, and looked Rupert dead in the eyes.
“I was at Parliament today as well, Your Grace. I saw that your uncle is standing in your place. I spoke to the Lord Chancellor. Your title is in question, and soon, you will be in disgrace. Worse than disgrace! You will be an illegitimate bastard, and your title and fortune and estate will be forfeit.”
Rupert took a step back. He was stunned. He had not realized that word had gotten around so quickly. But of course Theodore had noticed. Of course he had asked.
To his credit, Theodore did look sorry as he gazed at Rupert.
“I do not revel in this, Your Grace,” he said.
“As much as I did not like you as a child, I do not make sport of any man who loses everything through no fault of his own. Your parentage is not your fault. And you do not deserve what is about to befall you. The blame lies with your parents. But you are mad if you think I would allow my sister to marry someone who might, within a few months, be declared a bastard. Yes, I believe she deserves better.”
A ringing silence followed this pronouncement. Rupert felt as if he had been beaten near to death in a boxing ring. Every single inch of him hurt. The worst part was that he knew Theodore was right. Beatrice did deserve better. Maybe his parentage would be found to be legitimate.
But what if it wasn’t? If they married, and then he was declared a bastard and stripped of anything, she would be ruined. He could not do that to her.
He looked over at where she was sitting in the armchair.
Her face was still impassive, and she was gazing off into space as if not hearing anything.
She was in shock, he knew. The last thing he wanted to do was make this any more difficult for her.
All he wanted, all he had ever wanted since he had met her, was to help her.
To save her.
And now he had a chance to do so, for as long as he could, then let her go when the time was right.
He looked back at Theodore. Swallowing and drawing himself up, he nodded.
“Very well,” he murmured. “I will agree to this scheme.”
The two men shook hands, Rupert letting go as quickly as possible. He didn’t like the idea of making plans for Beatrice’s future without her input, but she still seemed too listless to consult.
“Perhaps she ought to go to bed,” he said quietly, and Theodore nodded. He motioned to Miss Carlton, and she came forward and took Beatrice’s hand, then led her from the room. Rupert’s heart swelled painfully as he watched her go. He wished he could tell her that everything would be well.
But he could not guarantee anything anymore.
Once he left, Rupert did not go home. Instead, he went straight to Thomas’s bachelor apartment. Fortunately, his friend was still awake, and in front of a small fire, another whiskey in hand, he explained to his friend everything that had happened. Thomas listened with attention, then shock.
“And you agreed to that?” he murmured, when Rupert was done.
“Of course I did,” Rupert said gruffly. “There is no other choice. Beatrice’s reputation must be saved. And her brother is right. With this legitimacy case hanging over me… I cannot marry her.”
“But what if the legitimacy case rules in your favor?” Thomas asked. “What if you are declared the undisputed Duke of St. James? Would you not then want to marry Miss Ashford?”
“I…” Rupert was not sure what to say. His feelings for Beatrice were complicated. Certainly amorous, certainly full of tenderness and care and protectiveness. But…
It was hard to see past the case. Every time he thought about it, he felt as if he was going to be sick. How could he subject her to that? It could take years before an outcome was reached.
They could not remain engaged for years. Eventually, a decision would have to be made. And he could not marry in good conscience knowing it could end in her being married to someone who had been deemed illegitimate.
“I cannot offer her the life she deserves,” he said, looking back at Thomas. “Therefore it does not matter what I would do if the circumstances were different.”
Thomas looked unconvinced. “As long as you are prepared to let her go when the time is right.”
Was he? Because as much as Rupert told himself he could let her go, he was not entirely certain, as he made his way home through the darkened streets of Mayfair.
Nor could he deny the sliver of satisfaction that flitted through him whenever he allowed himself to think that very soon, everyone in the ton would think Beatrice was his.
His.
It felt strangely right.
The other silver lining came the next morning, when he announced, over breakfast with his mother and Uncle Reginald, that he was engaged to Miss Beatrice Ashford.
“The Viscount’s sister?!” His mother cried, gasping with delight, her eyes as wide as the moon.
“I did think I sensed some partiality on your side! Oh, Rupert, this is wonderful! She is very beautiful, is she not?” She stood and came around the table, kissing him on the top of his head and smiling down at him with so much warmth he thought his heart would burst with guilt.
He could not, of course, bring himself to tell her it was a lie, that the engagement was false and would end within a few months.
“You have made me so happy,” his mother murmured, gazing deeply into his eyes. “And I hope that this good news, not to mention the show of faith from the Viscount, will put to bed these terrible rumors…” She trailed off, her voice faltering, and a dark cloud passed over her face.
Rupert reached out and took her hand, pressing it firmly.
“I am sure it will,” he said. He looked at his uncle. “I am sure things will be back to normal soon.”
“They will,” his uncle said, rising and placing a hand on his arm. “Congratulations, my boy. Your father would be very proud. As for the rest… do not fret. It shall all be cleared up. And in the meantime, I am looking after everything.”
Rupert nodded, and for a moment, he allowed himself to feel hopeful for the future, even if he knew half of it was uncertain and the other half a lie.