Courting Claudia (13 page)

“Very well. I'm sure you remember that little piece you wrote a few years back that indicted Edwards on those embezzlement charges.”

Derrick fought the sudden urge to crawl across the table and rip out Richard's larynx. Slimy bastard.

“That story was only partially true, as you might have gathered. Although I must say that Society's treatment of you and your father's paper after that incident was quite unwarranted.” He sighed dramatically. “But when you have the chancellor of finance against you, what can be done?”

“Get to the point, Richard. I have work to do.”

“Yes, well, I have the real story. The complete truth, and believe me, it will solidify your paper's reputation. I thought you knew about it. I thought
you'd somehow discovered the truth and that is why you were sniffing around Claudia, but I was wrong. Although I can't imagine you—or anyone—intentionally courting her for no valid reason.”

Derrick's jaw clenched. He squeezed the arm of the chair and mentally counted to ten. “You never intended to marry her, did you?”

“It was not my preference, but eventually her father would have seen to it that we married. I was angry at first, but after some thought, I realized that you saved me. I should thank you, really. But without that dowry money, I'm afraid I can't.”

“Bastard.” Derrick stood. “Get the hell out of my office.”

“Suit yourself. But do reconsider my offer. This time you won't regret it.” He tossed his calling card onto Derrick's desk and strode out.

K
ennington knocked on the door, then waited. After a moment with no answer, he knocked again, this time more forcefully with the end of his cane. Where was the stupid sop?

Footsteps rapped a beat on the interior hall. No doubt Richard himself, since he could no longer afford servants.
Worthless man
.

The door opened. “What are you doing here?” Richard asked.

“That's no way to greet an old friend. Invite me in.”

“We're not friends.”

“Invite me in anyway. We have business to dis
cuss.” He didn't wait for Richard to move out of the way, rather he pushed the door open with his cane.

“I spoke with Claudia earlier. You and I have no more business. Claudia is getting married.”

Their business would be finished when Kennington said it would be and not a moment sooner. Kennington waited until they were seated in the tiny study. Papers littered the desk, and books were scattered about on the floor. He never would have suspected Richard was so disordered.

“Lose something?”

“No.” Richard smiled smugly. “I found it. Why are you here?”

“You may think our business is finished, but I have another plan.” He needed Richard in the family, needed to keep him near lest the truth of Kennington's past be revealed. But in his family, he could tighten the purse strings and ensure Richard kept quiet. “You give up too easily. You're weak. That's always been your problem. But there is still time. We can fix this minor setback in our plans. Go and get her. Take her across the border. Marry her tonight.”

“Have you gone mad? Their engagement has been announced in the papers. Everyone is talking about it. Marrying her now would not save any
one's reputation. Besides, I'm rather glad I don't have to marry her. Never cared for her, really.”

He stomped his cane on the floor. “We cannot allow her to marry that man.”

“The truth of the matter is, I'm glad she's marrying Middleton. I was angry at first; I hadn't realized she was so willing with her favors. But I never really wanted her, you see. I only wanted what your status could give me, but that's over with. No one listens to you any longer. I'm finished with you. I'm free to do as I please.”

“What makes you think you don't need me anymore?”

“I am no longer in need of your assistance to better my position in Parliament. I have influence on my own now. People know me; they respect me.”

“Don't be foolish, boy. No one respects you. Don't think for a moment that you can walk away from our arrangement. I own you.”

Richard stood abruptly. “I sold the story. I told all the dirty little details of what you did.” He swallowed visibly. “Now
I
own
you
.”

Kennington laughed. “Foolish boy. Do you think I'm an idiot? You have no proof to sell that story. No one would believe you.”

“Oh, but I do have proof.”

He rose to his feet. “What are you talking about?”

“The letters.”

“What letters?” Kennington tried to keep his voice from rising too loud; he wanted to remain in control.

“The blackmail letters you wrote to Edwards. I have them.”

“Liar.”

Richard reached into his coat pocket and pulled out an envelope.

Kennington recognized his own penmanship instantly. “Where did you get those?”

“I never gave them to Edwards. A verbal threat was all he needed to comply. I figured these might be useful someday.” Richard snickered. “I was correct.”

Those letters would ruin him. Not only politically, but they could feasibly send him to prison or to the hangman's noose.

“I paid you to deliver those letters to Edwards.” He edged his way toward Richard. “You had no right to keep them.”

Richard shrugged. “I am first and foremost loyal to myself and my needs. Keeping these letters served my needs, so loyalty to you fell by the wayside. You really should be more particular when you hire people.”

Smug bastard
. He held out his hand. “Give me the letters, or I'll kill you.”

“That's the third time I've had my life threatened this week, and they've come to no avail.”

“Don't test me. Hand them over.”

“Go to hell.”

Kennington would not allow this idiot to ruin all his plans. He swung his cane and heard the metal knob crack against Richard's skull. Shock etched in Richard's features, and blood ran down his face into his eyes. He wavered a bit, then fell to the floor. Pulling back his cane once more, Kennington brought it down with all the force he could. Blood spattered against his pants leg.

He rolled Richard over and reached into his coat pocket and withdrew the stack of letters. Seven of them. They would have destroyed him.

He looked down into Richard's lifeless face, eyes still open, blood pooling about his head and soaking into the Persian carpet. There would be no marriage between Richard and Claudia now, but with Richard dead, keeping him close was no longer necessary.

“Stupid bastard.”

He wiped the blood from his hands and the cane on his shirt—he would burn it when he got home. Then he busied himself with making it look as if there had been a burglary. He took what little money Richard had on him and the few bank notes from his desk. He kicked the papers on the
floor about and opened all the desk drawers. Then he took his cane and slammed it into the window for the final touch.

With that, he turned on his heel and left through the back door.

 

Claudia had never seen her friend in such a state. Poppy's pretty eyes were puffy and red. Alistair had proposed, just as Poppy suspected he would, but his proposition had not been one of marriage. Rather, Alistair had proposed that Poppy become his mistress.

He'd been fully prepared to give her every material thing her heart desired. He'd even offered to give her an allowance that would benefit her entire family, but he'd not offered marriage. He'd offered everything but his love and his name. And now Poppy's heart was broken.

Claudia had tried everything to convince Poppy that things would be right again, but there was no convincing her. She supposed she might feel the same way were she in Poppy's shoes, but she was in an entirely different pair of shoes altogether.

Claudia eyed her best friend sitting quietly beside the window. Her shoulders no longer shook, and tears no longer fell down her streaked cheeks, but she looked defeated and worn.

“Is there anything I can get you?” Claudia asked.

Poppy shook her head.

What would happen when Lady Livingston arrived home from her afternoon tea and found her daughter in shambles? How would she react to such a scandalous event? A shiver pricked its way up Claudia's spine at the thought of having to tell such a story to her father. Granted, he hadn't taken the news of her pending nuptials too well either. She could hardly blame him; he must be mortified by her behavior. Despite her intentions, Claudia had made scandalous behavior an art form.

Just then Lady Livingston entered the parlor. “Good afternoon, girls. How are we today?” The stately woman took one look at her daughter's still figure and stopped moving. “Poppy, darling, what's the matter?”

Poppy turned to face her mother and burst into tears.

Her mother immediately took a seat next to Poppy. “Gracious, whatever is wrong?” Mother and daughter embraced, and Claudia watched as Lady Livingston's hand rubbed an even tempo against Poppy's back.

“Whatever is wrong, remember all will be well.” She retrieved a handkerchief from her reticule. Dabbing at Poppy's eyes, she looked at her
daughter with nothing but love and concern. “Stop crying, love, before you make yourself ill. Now tell me what happened.”

It took Poppy a good fifteen minutes to recount the story amid hiccups and sobs. Her mother held her again and rocked her gently.

“Not precisely the question you thought he'd ask you? Well, I can certainly understand these tears. Your heart is broken, my dear, but it shall mend in due time. I know you think he was the only one to make you feel that love, but he's not. A bit more patience and time, and you'll see.”

Claudia watched Lady Livingston console her daughter. Envy sat in her stomach like a stone. She felt like the intruder being here during such an intimate family moment. But she couldn't tear herself away. What must it feel like to have a parent not judge, not scold, but only comfort?

There was no mention of a scandal to the family or how this incident would affect her family name. There was no mention of a lack of judgment or reckless behavior. Instead there were hugs and pats and tender words meant to console and express love. Claudia would have given anything to know what it felt like to have that kind of love, if only for a moment.

S
he was married.

Claudia sat at the dressing table, brushing her hair. She'd lost count somewhere along fiftysix strokes as her mind worked to absorb all the day's events.

Married.

It was a strange and giddy feeling. It had been a quiet ceremony with only Poppy's family and a few of Derrick's friends as well as his aunt. Claudia's father had not come. She had known he probably wouldn't come, but she'd hoped he would prove her wrong. She would send a note to
him later to let him know she was well and would come see him soon.

Derrick was behind her somewhere in the room; where precisely, she wasn't sure, as she couldn't see him. But she felt him, like a warm blanket around her shoulders. Her husband. She wanted to turn and find him, to study his features as she'd never allowed herself to do, but her nerves wouldn't allow it. There was no awkwardness between them, but there was a charge in the air that was palatable. Tonight he would make her his own, and the thought terrified and exhilarated her. Was he as nervous about the marriage bed as she?

Perhaps, but certainly not for the same reasons. She was nervous because she'd never lain with a man before. But even more so, she'd never had any man look upon her while she was unclothed. Or touch the excess flesh that gave her such shame. She put a hand on her belly and felt the softness. Perhaps he wouldn't want to touch her at all.

Try as she might, she didn't believe that. Derrick would want to touch her. Everywhere.

That thought paralyzed the breath in her chest.

The feelings he'd evoked from touching her the few times they'd had encounters had left her shamelessly aching for more. More of what, she wasn't certain. But surely there was more.

She'd always believed what went on between a
husband and wife behind closed doors was an unpleasant thing, but Derrick had made her believe it might be quite pleasant.

Then suddenly he was behind her, his reflection standing above hers in the mirror. He was so handsome, she nearly gasped. And he was hers.

He took the brush from her and gently brought it back through her hair, his hand smoothing a path behind the brush. There was something so intimate about his brushing her hair. No one save Baubie and her mother had ever brushed her hair. He continued his brushing, all the while keeping his focus on her hair.

She allowed herself to study him in the mirror, and for the first time, she saw something other than his handsome face. There was a childlike concentration in his expression as he brushed her hair, and in that moment he seemed lost and vulnerable, and she felt the strongest need to love him. To forget her worries about one-sided affection and simply hand him her heart.

“There's something you need to know.”

He stopped the brushing, and his eyes met hers in the mirror.

He set the brush down and walked to the bed. “Come over here.”

She chewed at her bottom lip.

He swore under his breath. “When you do that,
I want to throw you down on that bed and kiss you. From the top of your head to your little dainty toes.” He shook his head and released a little chuckle. “They're toes, that's all, and yet they're the most erotic toes I've ever seen. And that ridiculous nightgown.”

She looked down at her gown, then looked back up at him. She opened her mouth to say something, but he cut her off.

“It covers everything but your head and the aforementioned erotic toes. I have a confession to make, and all I can think of is bedding you.”

She swallowed, then tried to speak, but her voice failed her. Clearing her throat, she tried again, “You have a confession? Oh goodness, you want an annulment.”

“God no. What gave you that idea?”

She shrugged. “Figured you'd come to your senses.”

“Come sit with me.” He patted the bed beside him. “I won't bite you, I promise.” He flashed her a toothy grin. “Unless you ask me to.”

She complied, but sat far enough away from him so that they could not touch without one of them moving.

“Claudia, we're married now. Nothing will ever change that. I meant my vows.” A frown creased
his brow. “I need to know that you meant yours, too.”

“Of course I did.”

He shook his head. “All right, I'm going to come right out with it. I've lied to you.”

“You didn't mean your vows?”

“No, not just now. I meant that. I lied to you before.”

“Was it for a good reason?”

“That was not the response I was expecting. Is there ever a good reason to lie to someone?”

“I've never been certain of that myself. My mother, on occasion, lied to my father. She claimed she wasn't lying, she was merely withholding information from him. I admit I've done the same. Obviously I did not tell him about my position with the paper.” She picked an imaginary piece of lint off her nightgown. “I suppose that's horrible. To lie to your father.”

“No, I don't think that's horrible. We need to discuss that more. Your father, I mean, but not right now.” He rubbed his temples. “I lied to you about courting you.”

She felt the color drain from her face. “You were never seriously courting me. You never intended to win my hand in marriage.”

He didn't answer, but the expression on his face
said it all. She'd guessed correctly. All along, her doubts had been well founded.

How could she have been so stupid? She knew, deep inside, that he'd never wanted her, not really, but she'd wanted to believe it so badly, wanted it to be true, that she ignored her mental protests and blindly accepted his words. His betrayal scalded her. She wanted to hit him, which surprised her, because she'd never even considered physical violence in the past.

Her second thought was to leave. To simply gather her ridiculous nightgown around her and hail a hackney to Poppy's house. But she was a married woman now, and while she was no longer tied down by her father's command, she couldn't leave Derrick on a whim. He owned her.

So she ignored both impulses and settled on the only words that would come to her. “I suspected as much.”

“I had an excellent reason. In the beginning. Or perhaps we could call it a purely selfish reason, but then something changed.”

“What was your reason?”

“Your illustrations. You told me that day you came to my office that you would have to quit when you got married. I decided to court you to prevent you from marrying anyone so that you could continue working for me.”

“An excellent reason, indeed. A very selfish reason. I would very much like to box your ears at the moment.”

“Go ahead. I deserve it.”

She closed her eyes to try and ease the anger, but it did not help. And oh, she felt the utter fool. She sent a brief prayer heavenward that the floor would simply open up and swallow her whole. Free her from this mortifying moment.

But nothing happened. She was still here, in his bedchamber wearing her nightclothes and feeling very much like an arse, if a lady could in fact, feel such a way.

“Did you intend to court me forever and never present me with the opportunity to marry another?”

“To be honest, I hadn't really thought about it. I didn't know you then. At first you were merely a means to an end. Do you realize that your illustrations are the reason the aristocracy started buying that paper? Before that it was a paper for the common man.”

“Is that not why you created the paper in the first place? To offer a worthy newspaper for the lower educated and lower income people?”

“Yes. But after the sales changed with your illustrations, I saw what I could do. I could make the aristocracy more socially aware. Use the paper
to bring issues in front of them that they would ordinarily ignore.”

“That's a noble cause, but I don't believe you went about it the right way.” It
was
noble. And part of her couldn't really blame him, but the part of her that screamed for him to love her cried silently in the corner of her heart.

“I'm a businessman. It's the way I think. But I haven't finished my story. That is why I initially started courting you, but a couple of things happened. You were more charming than I anticipated, and I found I wanted to spend more and more time with you. And then there was your connection with Richard.”

“What about Richard?”

“I'm assuming it hasn't escaped your memory that he attacked you the other day. I knew he was that kind of man. I didn't want to see you get into a marriage with him. He would have destroyed you. Would have taken that part of you that makes you so different from all the other women and he would have trampled it into the ground. I couldn't allow that to happen.”

“Noble again. I feel as if I should thank you, but I'm afraid it would not be genuine.”

“That's understandable. I'm still not finished,” he said.

“Of course not.”

“I continued courting you and trying to convince you I was sincere because I was—I am genuinely attracted to you. I enjoy your company, enjoy being near you.”

She said nothing for a long while, waiting for his words to settle in around her. He'd been lying. He hadn't been courting her, not really, but he still maintained that physically he wanted her.

“How am I supposed to believe anything you say, considering you've now admitted to lying to me twice? Should I simply believe you and wait for your confession later?”

“All I can tell you is that I had one marriage based on lies, and I'm determined that this one will not be like that. It is why I had to tell you the truth tonight. Every word out of Julia's mouth was a lie, so I know how you're feeling tonight. I apologize for putting you in that position, but at the time, I thought I was making the right decision. Whether or not you trust me from here is up to you. I can't convince you either way.”

How had she forgotten he'd been married before? He'd lost his wife and Claudia had completely let that escape her memory. Yet, he didn't seem to mourn her, instead he only mentioned Julia's deceit. It didn't take the sting away from her deflated pride, but it did give him some justification. A person who'd been wounded by another's
lies would be more sensitive to lying himself, wouldn't he? Her head was spinning.

“I came in here tonight terrified about consummating our marriage, and instead I get this confession, which, frankly, I did not need. Was it not bad enough that we married under such horrible conditions? You had to further humiliate me?”

“I don't see any of this as horrible, and I am not trying to humiliate you.”

“I should have known you were lying.”

“Why is that? Claudia, you're not exactly a great judge of character?”

“That's not kind.”

“I apologize. I only meant that you see the good in people. There's nothing wrong with that.”

“I'd rather not talk about this. It always sounds as if I'm whining, as if I'm pathetic. And frankly I'd rather you not think that of me on our wedding night.”

“I don't think you're pathetic. I've never thought that.” He turned her face so that she looked at him. “My false courtship was not about you. I know you think this is about you and whether or not you're desirable as a woman, but that's never been what it was about, Claudia. Before I knew you, I decided to court you to prevent you from resigning from my newspaper. I would not have made that decision had I thought you
were a toad. I hadn't planned to marry again. But I recognized that if I had to marry, you were who I would have chosen. I think you're a beautiful, intelligent, and funny woman.”

“I'm not beautiful. I think it's cruel that you would try to appeal to my vanity with more lies.”

“I would never lie about something like that. I know it's hard to see where I draw the line on what I will and won't lie about. I think I'm more qualified to judge beauty in a woman.”

“I'm too plump.” It came out in a whisper, and she looked down at the bedcovers. She hadn't intended to say that. It was horrible to admit—not that people didn't already notice. But she'd been more comfortable when she'd been angry with him. Somehow he'd diffused her anger, and now she sat feeling like an open wound waiting for him to pour on the salt.

“You're no such thing. Women are all different. Some are tall and thin like Poppy, and many men find her irresistible. Other women are short, some are fleshy, some are—the list can go on. I don't think you're too plump. I think your body is amazing. I would love to strip off every last inch of that silly nightgown and spend the rest of the night proving to you how delicious I find your body.”

“You don't know what my body looks like.” She
let out a laugh that sounded more like a snort. “And you clearly don't know what a good corset can hide. My breasts are entirely too large, and I have a generous belly. And my hips and thighs…” She shook her head.

“Is this why you were terrified?”

She nodded. “I don't want you to touch me.”

“We can't consummate this marriage unless you let me touch you, Claudia. But I won't touch you until you're ready.”

“I didn't mean it like that. It's not you. It's me.”

“I realize that since I've lied to you once, I must work to regain your trust. I'm determined to do that. No matter what my intentions toward you were in the beginning, my desire for you has always been real. I can't fake that. Those kisses were real. The touches, all real. Someday you'll see that.”

She didn't know what to think or what to believe. He seemed so sincere, and she wanted to trust him. But he'd lied to her. And he'd hurt her. He'd said the one thing tonight that she'd feared all along. He hadn't really wanted her. He'd only been after her drawings.

It stung, and all she wanted to do was curl into a ball and cry, but that would solve nothing. If she was honest with herself, it wasn't the only thing she wanted to do. It was only one option swim
ming through her mind. All the others consisted of Derrick stripping off her clothes and kissing her. Everywhere, as he'd suggested.