A Shameful Secret (17 page)

“The devil of it is that both he and his aunt are invited to stay for Geraldine’s dance and engagement,” Paul said, his expression harsh. “But you may be sure that I shall keep a watchful eye—and if you should be able to return by then, you will be welcome as my guest. We have been on opposite sides in this, but there is no reason why we should not work together in the future. I think we both want the culprit punished?”

“Yes, indeed.” Richard nodded. “I thank you for the invitation, sir, but I must make it plain that I have an interest in the matter. I do not know how things stand between you and Miss Weston—but it is my intention to ask her to marry me if she will.”

Paul frowned, for he had sensed something in Hester’s manner when Mortimer first came up to them that morning. She had seemed a little confused, and the look of dislike had not been there when she spoke to him of her gratitude. That was not strange for without his help she might never have been recovered despite her gallant attempt at escape: alone and on foot, Paul knew that she would soon have been recaptured.

“Do you believe you have hopes?” he asked.

“I do not know,” Richard replied. “She . . . cared for me once, but I lost the right to her respect. I would make amends for the harm I once did her—and I do care for her. She may dismiss my offer at once, but I thought it right to warn you that I mean to make it.”

“At least you have been honest,” Paul said, though his mouth was tight, for he was angry that any other man should have the right to address the woman he loved. “I shall not take back my offer, sir. Hester must choose whom she will marry. If she takes you, then I must wish you both happy—but I shall do my best to persuade her to marry me.”

“That is your right,” Richard said. “But give me your word that you will not take unfair advantage while I am gone on this business for us both?”

Paul ground his teeth in silent frustration, for what else could he do but agree? It was necessary for one of them to go to London, and Mortimer could have refused. He had not done so, which put Paul on his mettle, and he, in his turn, must behave as honorably.

“Very well, you have my word. I shall not ask Hester to marry me until after your return.”

“Thank you.” Richard grinned at him. “You are a better man than I, Crawford, for I would not have agreed. But I thank you for your promise, and once I have asked and been refused, I will leave the field clear to you. I once had wild thoughts of abducting her, but she does not deserve that—particularly from me.”

“I think you hurt her once,” Paul said his brow creased. “She has not told me, but I know that she has been hurt badly, and I have thought it might be you.”

“I courted her,” Richard replied but stopped short. “But my father sent me abroad for past sins, and I was forced to leave her.”

Paul nodded, accepting him at his word. He had suspected that she had had her heart broken, but now it gave him pause for thought. If Mortimer’s desertion had hurt her as deeply as he suspected, she must have loved him very much. He had believed that Hester was coming to love and trust him, but if Richard Mortimer came back into her life as a hero who had helped to save her life, might her old love not be rekindled? Was it perhaps reluctance to let go of an old dream that had made her resist his attempts to court her?

Watching Richard Mortimer ride away, that he might have been pushing Hester too hard for an answer concerned Paul. He was in love with her, and his senses told him that she loved him in return—but supposing she agreed to marry him and then began to regret her bargain.

It might be better if he waited for a time to give her a chance to know her own heart.

* * * *

Hester could have no knowledge of what had taken place between the two men. She no longer felt as angry with Richard Mortimer as she once had. He had done much to save her from the men who had abducted her and was prepared to do more. While that did not exonerate him from his past misdeeds, it made him less of a black sheep in her eyes. It did not change the fact that she was in love with Paul Crawford nor that she could not marry him without telling him the truth about her past fall from grace.

She thought that if he asked her to marry him, she would immediately tell him why it was impossible, but if he did not speak, then she would keep her secret. She was finishing her breakfast when Paul came in, and she gave him a shy smile. He nodded pleasantly, but she was aware of an odd reserve in him that made her wonder what had changed him. Earlier, he had seemed intent on courting her, but now it was as if they had gone back to where they were before they left Bath.

“Has the viscount left?”

“Yes. Did you wish to speak with him?”

“Oh no. I think I have said all that was due,” Hester said.

“He will be returning shortly. I have invited him to stay. You will have opportunity enough to speak with him then if you wish.”

Hester was silent. Was Paul angry with her? Had Richard Mortimer said something to him? Surely not? And yet there was a change. It was in her mind to ask if something was the matter, but at that moment, she heard voices outside the breakfast room and then Charlotte entered.

“Cousin!” she cried and leaped to her feet. “You are early.” Charlotte seldom rose before eleven.

“I was anxious about you, dearest Hester. Those wicked men! What did they do to you?”

“Nothing very terrible,” Hester said and touched her chin. It was still a little tender, but the bruise had faded. “I was rendered unconscious for a few hours, but otherwise, they treated me kindly enough.”

“They did not—” Charlotte stopped abruptly as she saw Paul. “I must thank you for your prompt action, Captain Crawford. I have been out of my mind with worry over my cousin, and now she is safe thanks to you.”

“I was not alone,” Paul said and his eyes were on Hester’s face. “Viscount Mortimer saw it happen as you know. He followed and left messages for me. We were to have attempted the rescue together, but Hester saved us the trouble by escaping.”

“You escaped?” Charlotte stared at her. “Oh, my dear! What a thing! You were very brave and clever.”

“It was almost too easy,” Hester said. “I played the kind of trick a girl might on her governess and slipped out when he went to wake me for breakfast. I was lucky . . . unless . . .”

“What are you thinking, Hester?” Paul was suddenly alert as he saw the look in her eyes. “Have you remembered something more?”

“I have wondered if I was meant to escape. It did not occur to me at first, but now I am wondering. It was not me they meant to take, but Geraldine—though they still meant to use me. Unless he changed his mind.”

“Why should he do that?”

Hester frowned and shook her head. “I do not know. It would not be sensible of him, would it? His plan was to lure you in and kill you. By letting me go, he abandoned that hope.”

“Someone who cared for your good opinion might decide it was the lesser of two evils—particularly if he did not wish you to die too.”

“This is all so terrifying,” Charlotte said and shuddered. “I do not know what your mother would have said to me if anything had happened to you, Hester.”

Hester shook her head. She could not think that her mother would care very much either way, but she did not contradict her cousin.

“Well, since I am unharmed, there is no necessity for her to know.”

“Oh, but I wrote to her immediately, and so did the Marchioness,” Charlotte replied. “I have had word that she is on her way here and should arrive tomorrow afternoon at the latest.”

Hester had a sinking feeling inside. The last thing she needed was the imminent arrival of her mother, but there was nothing she could do. If Mrs. Weston had decided to come here, nothing would stop her. At least it would save Hester the trouble of telling Captain Crawford that she was not worthy of him: her mother would do that for her.

She rose from the table, her head high. “Would it be possible for me to go riding later, Captain Crawford? I shall naturally keep Charlotte company this morning, but I would like to ride this afternoon if it is possible.”

“Yes, of course, Hester.” He looked at her in an odd way. “I should like to accompany you, but unfortunately I have business that will take me elsewhere this afternoon. However, I shall tell the groom to be ready by two o’clock, and he will accompany you. You will do me the favor of not leaving the estate. I have men patrolling the boundaries and know you to be safe here, but beyond that, I cannot be certain.” His expression was grim, angry.

“Yes, of course,” Hester replied. “I hope I am not being a trouble to you, sir?”

“You could never be that,” he said, and for an instant, the caressing look was back in his eyes. “Forgive me for not accompanying you—perhaps tomorrow?”

“Yes, perhaps,” Hester said and smiled. “Yes, I should like that very much.”

For a moment, she remembered their wild ride when his arms were about her, holding her pressed against his chest, the heat of his body warming her, making her tremble with longing. She knew a spiral of desire deep within her, melting her body, heating her cheeks as she realized how wanton her thoughts were. It would not do! He would turn from her in disgust if he could read her mind, for it would confirm her wickedness.

“Have you eaten?” she asked her cousin, turning the conversation. “May I pour you some tea or chocolate?”

“I broke my fast first thing,” Charlotte said. “For the moment, all I want is to hear about your escape, my dearest. Come upstairs with me while I tidy myself, and we can talk.”

Hester allowed herself to be drawn away. She resisted the temptation to look back at Paul, which was a pity for she might have seen a wistful look in his eyes that would have told her that he too was regretting the interruption to their talk.

Hester’s ride that afternoon was uneventful. She enjoyed the exercise, but the magic of her ride with Paul was missing, and she thought wistfully that soon enough all this would be but a memory. Her mother would soon put a stop to any dreams she might have that somehow Paul would understand what had happened, that he would not blame her too much—would be able to forgive and forget, to accept her as his wife.

It was foolish to allow herself such dreams, of course. Her father had made it clear that any decent man would feel only disgust for a girl who had behaved so wantonly. And the feelings she was experiencing when near Paul recently, the dreams she had begun to have of being in his arms, in his bed, were so abandoned that she knew her father was right. She was not a modest young woman! She was a wicked girl, and no man would love her once he knew her secret.

She returned to the house after her ride, changed into a fresh gown and went down to join the other ladies. Charlotte and her hostess were sitting together and seemed to be getting on like a house on fire judging from their smiles as she entered.

“You look beautiful, my love,” Lady Longstanton said. “Such fresh color in your cheeks. I am glad you enjoy riding. It was a passion with me in my youth, and I sometimes ride even now. We shall be able to ride together sometimes, Hester—and I must teach you to drive. I have my own pair, you know. Longstanton says that I am the best female whip he knows. He taught me years ago, and is very proud of that fact. He says I have better hands than Paul, though you must not tell him so.”

Hester laughed and joined them as tea was brought in. They talked of inconsequential things until it was time to go up and change for dinner.

Charlotte followed Hester into her room, looking at her thoughtfully. “The marchioness seems to think it inevitable that you will marry her son, Hester. May I ask if he has spoken yet?”

“No, not yet,” Hester replied, her cheeks warm. “I think he may—but he has not done so yet.”

“Have you thought about your answer?”

“I should like to accept but you know that I must tell him first.”

“Is that really necessary, dearest? I know you want to do what is right—but sometimes secrets are best kept to oneself.”

“I cannot marry him unless he can accept what has happened in the past,” Hester said firmly. “But I think that Mama will not allow it. She is sure to do something to stop it when she comes—do you not think so?”

“No, I do not believe that will be the case,” Charlotte said, surprising her. “Your mother cannot but be aware that it is an excellent match. I believe she has more sense than to spoil your chances of becoming Lady Crawford.”

“Lady . . .” Hester was thoughtful. “I had not considered that aspect. Paul does not use his title, does he?”

“He prefers the title he earned as an officer,” Charlotte said and smiled. “I find that rather admirable—though of course he will one day become the tenth marquis, and as his wife, you would be addressed in the proper manner.”

“Oh, Charlotte,” Hester said, “as if I cared for that—but it does make me wonder if I might be the cause of scandal to such a family. It would be truly dreadful if I married Paul and then it came out.”

“Why should it?” Charlotte held out her hand and Hester took it, feeling as if she needed some comfort. “No one but your family knows what happened, dearest—and even we do not know the name of the gentleman concerned.”

“No—but
he
does and . . .” She took a deep breath. “Supposing he used it to blackmail me?”