“You have discovered my secret, my lady.”
“Very well, Lord Weston,” she said. “Enough teasing. The engagement is settled, so the only thing left to do is to become acquainted with a few details of our lives. Perhaps we may do that on the journey to London, assuming you will join us in our coach?”
She paused, then looked him in the eyes. “My lord, I am truly sorry for the trouble I have caused you.” The sincerity in her voice was heartfelt.
He turned away from her. He wished he did not have to share this part of his past, but he preferred that she hear it from him. He would ponder the reason for that another time. “You may tell me about your youth while we travel, but I would prefer it if your sister and your maid did not hear about a particular incident from mine. At least, not in my presence. They will hear it soon enough when we are in Town. Truth to tell, I would prefer you not hear it, but some gabster will be only too happy to repeat the story, so you might as well hear it from me.”
Now he was angry, and he could feel the tic in his jaw at the tension and self-chastisement the memory still evoked.
“My lord, it seems to me you have been completely honest with me. You have told me people will cut you, and perhaps me, and you have told me outright that you are a rake. Whatever tattle your enemies wish to share with me will only be part of your past. It was a time in which I played no part. I am in no position to judge you.”
He looked up, astonished at her words and her candor. But they did not negate the responsibility to prepare her to meet with his past. He began his story quickly, wishing it over and done with. “You will hear from my sisters that my father and I never got along. My mother died when I was relatively young, and both of my sisters are older than I am. As his only son, he had high hopes for me. Too high, perhaps. I could never live up to his expectations, so I began to live down to them.
“I finished my education and assumed I would begin to help undertake the duties of my father’s estate. But everything I did was wrong, and I realized he would never respect me. I asked him if he would buy me a commission in the army, something to allow me to feel myself useful. But I was the heir and he refused me even that. Idle and miserable, I left for London and began making the ever present name for myself. My actions tortured my father to distraction.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Finally, I committed the cardinal sin.”
“What happened?” she asked quietly.
“I was two and twenty and I fell in love.” He began pacing the room. “Unfortunately, the lady was already married. She told me she was much younger than her husband and that he treated her cruelly. I decided to save her, and I ran off with her one night.”
He went to the window, even though it was too dark to see out. “Perhaps you will not be surprised that her husband followed and caught us. When she had talked of his advanced age, she failed to mention it was all of four and thirty.” His smile was cynical as he shook his head. “And her idea of cruel was that he had cut off her already excessive dress allowance for the rest of the quarter. But when he challenged me to a duel, I thought I was fighting for my lady’s honor.
“I was the better shot, which it turns out she was counting on. But I did not kill him. When she realized he was not going to die, she told me I had ruined everything. It took me several minutes to understand what she was actually saying. You see, had I killed him, she would have been free and very wealthy.” He turned back and walked to the fireplace. He was far from complacent and even the retelling of the story caused him more unease than becoming betrothed to a woman he’d just met.
“Perhaps you will now better understand my reluctance to be bowled over by marriage.” He pulled himself away from the fire and faced her. “Once the husband healed, he took his wife abroad. To own the truth, I have no idea what became of her. But the scandal had sullied my family name, and I am sure you can imagine my father’s disdain.”
He could not tell her the rest. He could not say that his august parent had died only a few months later. His heart had given out, the doctor said. His sisters told him over and over that his heart had always been weak. They all knew he drank to excess; it was the reason Brandon did not imbibe. But as far as Brandon was concerned, he might as well have taken a gun to his sire’s head.
He looked intently into her eyes as he asked, “Still think there is nothing to judge, Lady Grace?”
He was trying to shock her, and he expected some kind of horrified response, perhaps even a refusal to go through with their plan. Instead, she stood in front of him with a serene countenance. “I have already been told you abhor dull women, and I fear I shall fall off of that pedestal when I prove guilty of dreary repetition. But I still say I have no right to judge you or anyone.”
“Somehow I find that hard to believe. Your goodness and innocence are clear to anyone with a brain, of which I am one.”
“God’s grace is greater than all of our weaknesses, my lord. I thank Him for that every day.”
He stood dumbfounded.
“Do not worry, I am not trying to convert you. I am trying to say that we all have faults, myself included.”
She waited, but he was stunned into silence. “Now that we have that out of the way, I think we have another few hurdles to overcome. I hope we may be able to solve them tonight and be on our way first thing in the morning.”
He stared at her in astonishment. She was an amazing woman! He wondered if he’d ever be able to tell her how much her acceptance meant to him. Well, it would not be now. There was still much to do. But he vowed he would let her know one day, no matter the outcome of this coil.
“Having known me such a short time, you would not know that the only reason I would even consider a duplicitous engagement is because of my sister, Lydia. Truth to tell, the only reason I would endure another London Season at all is for her. She is so loving and sweet and beautiful. I will not let her settle for less than she deserves.”
“Very well, we have established that your sister is important in our plans. However, those plans still need to be ironed out.”
She calmly replied, “It seems to me that breaking the engagement should be easy enough. We will go for a few drives, you will dance with me once or twice, we shall have a very public disagreement and I shall play the jilt. Where is the rub?”
“It is not the end of the engagement we must settle, but rather the way we shall say it began. I have two sisters who love good gossip and will want to know where we met and how long we have been engaged. Why did we not announce it, or at a minimum, inform them? Why did I not escort you to London? When are we planning to marry...?”
“Oh, dear, please stop. I did not think of any of this.” She sat in the flanking chair and put her head in her hands.
“As long as we are being completely honest, my dear, I must admit I gave a bit of attention to a widow in London last month during the Little Season, so our attachment will have to have been of a very recent nature.”
“Oh, no,” she cried. “You are in love and were ready to be married!”
Before he could even speak, she went on. “Well, there is a simple solution to that. We will tell her the truth from the beginning, and then when the engagement is broken, you will find it was she you loved all along. It is a perfect explanation.” She sat back, entirely satisfied with the new plan. “We must tell her the truth as soon as we reach London, especially if the Marchmonts are before us spreading tales. Perhaps we should tell your sisters, as well.”
“My dear Lady Grace, you have just said the only bird-witted remarks I have heard you utter all night.”
Grace tried to hide her indignation. She was not bird-witted!
Lord Weston rose and went to lean on the mantel. “First