The Unscrupulous Uncle (22 page)

Catherine spent the next several days trying to escape the trap she had tumbled into. She was married to a man who did not want her. The Damon she had adored for seventeen years was dead. War had turned him into a selfish tyrant, destroying any hope that they could find happiness together.

But what could she do? Annulment was impossible. Without his consent, the church would never agree, and she would be left with nothing if one was granted. Anything Damon could not keep would revert to Uncle Henry. Thus she had no money. And she had no place to go. Ridgway House now belonged to Damon. She would never be welcome at Braxton Manor. And she could not establish a separate town residence without creating an unforgivable scandal. So she must remain at Devlin House and pretend to be Damon’s wife.

How could he have changed so much? Their confrontation haunted her. The old Damon would have told her about the codicil, described her options, and allowed her to decide which one to follow. It was what he had done the summer her favorite horse had to be put down. His trust had meant as much as his sympathy. The new Damon issued orders, offering no explanations and allowing no questions. Yet he expected instant obedience.

Something had to change, but she did not know where to begin. Nor could she discuss it with others. Society already censured them for marrying so quickly. Revealing their reasons could only make it worse.

The future looked grim. Damon was ignoring her, refusing even to exchange greetings. She could feel his regret. And who could blame him? She could never replace Hermione in his heart, a truth that made her feel more useless and degraded than any indignity Dru or Horty had inflicted. He would doubtless set the lady up as his mistress as soon as she wed. But his wife must pretend that all was well.

* * * *

“A new rumor is making the rounds,” reported Edith as her carriage clattered over the cobblestones into Berkeley Square, heading for their first morning call.

“What now?”

“Specific charges, citing time and place, that accuse you of liaisons with Lord Rathbone, Lord Devereaux, and one of your grooms. The gentlemen are both notorious libertines.”

Catherine gasped. “There is not a shred of truth to that! Though Rathbone is an old acquaintance, I have never even met Devereaux.”

“I should hope not! He is a dedicated lecher who delights in seducing wives. Few invite him to Marriage Mart affairs so I doubt you have seen him.”

“That should be easy enough to establish then. Louisa accompanies me most evenings and can swear we’ve not met.”

“Don’t be a goose, Cat,” admonished Edith. “No one invites others to an illicit meeting. And Lady Debenham cites your use of a chaperon as proof Lord Devlin doesn’t trust you. One must never go out alone, of course, but a matron need take only a maid or footman.”

“Then there is nothing to do,” she concluded gloomily as the carriage rolled to a halt. “I might as well retire to the country.”

“Fustian! It is not like you to give up without a fight.”

“How? You said yourself that no one will believe me, so protesting my innocence can do no good.”

“We need to go after the author of these stories. Is it Lady Hermione or Mr. Braxton?”

Catherine frowned. Hermione seemed unlikely. Innuendo was enough to keep Damon’s eyes on her, so she would hardly risk lying outright… Sidney also preferred innuendo because details were easy to check – unless Dru or Horty had pushed him into it. They must realize by now that they would never see London... Damon had already accused her of impropriety with Rathbone. Was he planning an annulment? A fortnight of marriage could have made the money look less desirable, and destroying her character might make it easier to obtain one. But if he were naming a second paramour, he surely would have chosen Lord James.

“I have no idea,” she told Edith, loath to mention any of these possibilities. The footman pulled open the door and handed them out.

Catherine blinked, as she always did when entering Lady Debenham’s relentlessly Egyptian drawing room. Twin caryatids supported a grotesque chimneypiece. Furniture legs terminated in clawed feet while arms ended in animal heads. A sarcophagus lid stood in one corner next to a crocodile settee. She shivered. Even the refreshments carried out the theme, with biscuits shaped like lotus blossoms and shortbread carved into cartouches.

“Lady Devlin!” exclaimed Lady Debenham maliciously. “Just the person I wanted to see.”

“My lady.” Catherine curtsied to her hostess. “I trust you are well.”

“Quite well. Lord Pendleton told me the most astonishing tale this morning.”

“Did Lords Oakridge and Seaton fight another duel?” she dared ask.

“That truly would be astonishing,” agreed the gossip as several guests tittered. “Oakridge has not yet recovered from the first one. But Pendleton claims that Lord Devlin cheated your family by producing a forgery that assigns him ownership of lands and investments that rightfully belong to Lord Braxton, then threw them off the estate with not a feather to fly with.”

“What a twisted tale!” declared Catherine, forcing herself to laugh into those predatory eyes. Sidney’s hand was obvious, for Pendleton was one of his friends. “Someone’s imagination is certainly working overtime. My father’s will left me everything not entailed, including the estate on which we lived. My uncle – who was my trustee as well as my guardian – has been managing Ridgway House for me – you must agree that it is not a job I could have handled myself. Now that Damon has assumed the responsibility, Uncle Henry is free to return to his own estate.”

“I suppose someone heard of the move and imputed sinister motives to it,” put in Edith with a shake of her head.

“Sidney Braxton,” announced Lady Beatrice from the doorway. “He started that tale last night, out of spite I’ve no doubt.”

“Perhaps he did not know the details of the late baron’s will,” suggested Lady Debenham, resigned to seeing her tale quashed. “He was only a boy when his father acceded to the title.”

“Fustian!” snorted Lady Beatrice. “Malicious lies are an integral part of his character, as you should recognize. I had a most illuminating talk with Lady Hawthorne – she has known the Braxton family all her life. Sidney has ever been a troublemaker and he bears long-standing grudges against both Lord and Lady Devlin.”

Catherine opened her mouth to protest this washing of her family linen in public, but Lady Beatrice’s eyes and Edith’s elbow kept her silent.

“What crime did they commit against the poor boy?” asked Lady Debenham, ranging herself on Sidney’s side.

“Not a thing,” swore Lady Beatrice. “But he envied their friendship, so he did everything possible to get them in trouble, including deliberately damaging property and then blaming them.”

“Lady Hawthorne exaggerates,” declared Catherine desperately. “There was no evidence that Sidney was responsible for either cutting down the yew hedge or starting the stable fire. Visiting us was always frustrating for him, for there was no one his own age to play with. I am two years his elder and the boys another five beyond that.”

“Was he an only child then?” asked Lady Horseley.

“Not at all,” responded Lady Beatrice, forcing a nod of agreement from Catherine before continuing. “His mother and sisters never visited Ridgway House.”

“They were always welcome,” insisted Cat. “But my aunt is not a good traveler.”

“Nonsense!” snapped Lady Beatrice. “I applaud your loyalty, my lady – especially in the face of their antagonism – but the truth must be told. Your aunt is a schemer who forced your uncle into marriage despite her common origins. I remember the scandal quite clearly.”

This announcement drew exclamations from the younger matrons and resulted in the baring of Eugenia’s birth and character. Though the disclosures hurt Sidney more than herself, Catherine could not help feeling ashamed. More than anything, she wanted to line up every member of society and scream at them to stop – stop vilifying her family; stop accusing her of immoral behavior; stop talking about her altogether. They had everything wrong, for she and Hermione were both innocent victims, and Damon was not the poor deluded target of some malicious plot. But her time was up, and she had to leave.

The factual portion of the day’s gossip was good news. Her uncle had been told to move, so she need never see him again. With a better master, Ridgway was capable of producing a good income. She had several ideas for restoring its prosperity, but Damon was no longer talking to her.

If only they could retire to the country! Then maybe they could rediscover their old friendship and find some way to live together in peace away from the gossips who were driving them farther apart each day. And perhaps the tranquility of Devlin Court would allow Damon to finally set the war behind him and heal. Her heart bled for him every time she had to shake him out of a nightmare. How could he live with such horror?

 * * * *

Damon threaded Pythias through the crowd in Hyde Park, pulling to a stop next to Hermione. “Would you care to ride with me?” he asked. The question was rhetorical, for he was here by appointment. He had run into her on Bond Street the day before, to be met with a teary-eyed tale of how Lady Marchgate had just cut her because he had ignored her for two days. And so he had agreed to visit her box at the opera and to meet her in the park the next afternoon. But his temper was far from congenial. She was thwarting his efforts to ease her back into the Marriage Mart. She had been so obviously glad to see him at the opera that her escort had visibly abandoned all interest in her. Even her normally doting parents had looked askance on her performance. He was beginning to believe that her continuing problems with society arose more from her behavior than his own.

“How kind of you!” she exclaimed now, bidding a laughing good-bye to the gentlemen who had been flirting with her moments before. Her groom fell in behind them. Perhaps he had overreacted at the opera. Her manner today was everything proper.

“Your credit has improved, I see.”

“Hardly. Those two are bores, but I must either pretend to enjoy their sallies or remain alone, thus reminding all the world of your perfidy.”

“Enough!”

She turned tearful eyes toward him. “Forgive me, Damon. I should not vent my irritation on you. This is no more your fault than mine, and it must be horridly difficult. You cannot like hearing talk of Lady Devlin’s affairs and speculation about where she and Rathbone will next appear.”

“I said enough,” he growled through clenched teeth. “My wife is not your concern. You will cease this constant harping and turn your mind to bettering your own position, or I will wash my hands of you.”

She gasped, her eyes glittering in anger. “Are you so blind that you cannot see what she is doing to you, or do you not care that your name is becoming a byword? I would think that any man would take steps to keep so unsuitable a wife away from society!”

“You overstep propriety, my lady, in every way. Good day!” Damon wheeled Pythias and cantered down a side road, leaving an open-mouthed Hermione behind. Damn Catherine for inspiring talk. And damn Hermione for repeating it! He cursed himself for providing yet another tale for the tattlebaskets – at least thirty people must have witnessed his abrupt departure.

He was about to return and apologize when he spotted Catherine in a perch phaeton with Lord James. His fingers clenched the reins. What would it take to convince her that only discretion would defeat the rumors? The dandy was far too attentive. As was that cur, Rathbone.

Catherine laughed, her silky voice clear above the din, her face lighting as he had not seen it in years. She was beautiful, clad in a stylish blue carriage dress and matching pelisse. Her black curls peeked out from a frivolous bonnet, reminding him of how soft they had been that night in Cumberland.

But another memory erased the scene – violet eyes flashing fire as she accused him of being a fortune hunter. Turning his back on the cream of society, he left the park.

 * * * *

Catherine tamed her laugh into a smile. “Rogue!” she charged Lord James.

“Hardly, but I had to do something to ease your gloom, even if it lasts only a moment.”

“Thank you – I think.” Another carriage passed with barely a nod from its occupants. She sighed.

“Your cousin has been busy.”

“True, though what he hopes to gain from his latest lies is unclear. There is no question about the validity of my father’s will.”

“So I thought,” he agreed. “But then I know his methods. Many do not. If his claims prompt an investigation, he expects Lord Devlin to buy his silence.”

“He does not know Damon if he believes such fustian. And he cannot have read the will. It was written just after my brother bought colors against Papa’s wishes. Anyone who met Papa during the next two months heard the identical tirade. He made no effort to hide his ire. My uncle would have questioned it eight years ago had he suspected its validity. Sidney hasn’t a hope of legal recourse, and Damon is not one to shirk a battle, whatever the stakes.”

Further talk was delayed when Lady Sommersby stopped to chat. She was succeeded by Lady Beatrice – who made a point of enjoying Catherine’s company – and by Colonel Caldwell. They had just bid him farewell when Lady Hermione approached. Catherine braced herself, but Hermione’s eyes darkened in fury, and she rode by without a word.

“The cut direct,” marveled Lord James, sounding pleased.

“I wonder why. She usually delights in barbs and set-downs.” Catherine was more shaken than she wished to admit. Hermione’s spite was becoming more overt, as was her possessiveness toward Damon, who was living in her pocket. This cut felt as though it had been delivered by Damon himself.

“I doubt that was aimed at you,” consoled Lord James. “Lady Hermione is still a spoiled and willful child, but she will mature into a charming lady.”

The truth was staring Catherine in the face. “She is the one you love? You poor man!”

“The situation is looking brighter,” he countered. “She is inordinately jealous because you have stolen two of her beaux.”

She stared as if she had never seen him before. “What a despicable cad! You used me! You two deserve each other, for neither of you can see beyond your own selfish whims. Don’t you understand that you have increased her spite? But what do you care? What are a few more rumors when set against so many?” Tears trembled in her eyes.