A Scoundrel's Surrender (11 page)

“My father met my mother during a hunting expedition,” she explained, her voice low. “He had fallen from his horse and injured himself. The shire doctor was far off, so the men with him sent for my grandmother, who was a well-known healer and midwife in Baybary. Even the very richest women in the shire called on her to birth their babies, some even came to the shire from other places for her assistance.”

Marah smiled and Caleb heard the pride in her voice, the utter love for this woman who had taught her strength and independence.

“When she came to tend to the hunting party, she brought her daughter with her for assistance.”

“Ah,” Caleb said with a laugh. “And your father fell in love.”

Marah shrugged. “I don't know. My grandmother never approved of their marriage, so she rarely said anything pleasant about their courtship. I assume he must have felt something for my mother. After all, she was far beneath him in stature, he should have known a marriage between them would be a difficult path. He could have simply taken her as a mistress or even made her empty promises to obtain what he desired. Instead he married her within a few months of their first meeting, despite all my grandmother's objections.”

Caleb frowned at the sadness in her stare, but didn't interrupt again.

“His family disapproved the match even more than my grandmother did. Although they had no legal means to cut my father off from the title, they did limit his funds and stopped inviting him to functions in order to express their utter distaste for his bride. Angry, he apparently sequestered himself away with my mother in London. Within months, she was with child. My grandmother wished for her to come home, to let her deliver the baby . . .
me
.”

Caleb shook his head. “But he wouldn't allow it.”

“He thought the London doctors would be better equipped. But when I arrived, there were complications. I was saved, but my mother bled to death.”

Caleb felt a stab of pain at the guilt in her eyes and the flat sorrow in her voice when she said the last sentence.

He touched her hand. “That wasn't your fault.”

She stared at his fingers touching her skin and then pulled away gently. “My father believed otherwise. As soon as I was strong enough to travel, he showed up on my grandmother's doorstep and handed me off to her. He returned to his family in London and reentered Society almost immediately. From what I understand, his family never spoke of his marriage or of me again. The only acknowledgment any of them made toward me was a payment twice yearly.”

Caleb stared at her. “So you've never met them?”

There was a long, painful hesitation before she finally shook her head. “They never
wanted
to meet with me.”

Her heartbroken tone told him how much that fact hurt her. “I'm sorry,” he whispered.

She shrugged. “I've never received a note or an acknowledgment in the entire span of my life. Even when my father died, my grandmother read about it in the local paper weeks later. No one contacted us with the news.”

“But you are family,” he insisted with a wrinkled brow.

He could hardly imagine having no contact whatsoever with his family. Even when he had run for two years, his brother had found him multiple times and his sister had written to him at least a few times a year. He had cut himself off, but not been shunned in any real or complete fashion. He had always known his family was there, waiting for him.

“And
you
also have another family,” Marah retorted. “Who you have no intention of meeting, yes?”

Caleb released her arm and paced away, stung by her mention of that secondary family he had vowed to forget existed. “But this is different, Marah.”

“No, it is the same,” she protested as she moved to the closest bench and sank into it with a sigh of exhaustion. “There are too many complications for both of us in finding the families we don't know. For me, I will only encounter censure and denial.” She shivered. “I admit I don't think I'm strong enough to bear that. For you, it will open up wounds you fear to explore. So we are at an impasse. Only now that Lady Jericho has so triumphantly declared my true identity, I fear there will be consequences for me.”

Caleb frowned. “Yes, that may be true.”

She sighed a second time. “I should probably just go home to Baybary. Return to my grandmother's cottage and the life of simplicity I had there.”

Caleb moved closer and took the seat beside her. She straightened up, but didn't draw away as he reached up to brush a lock of hair away from her face. “So you would run, just as I did?”

She shrugged one shoulder. “Running seemed to work for you.”

He stared at her. There was no way she could possibly believe that to be true. “Running only hurt everyone in my life . . . including me. I don't recommend it.”

She was quiet for a moment. “Then what do you recommend, Caleb? How do I forget? How do I pretend this away? You are the expert, advise me.”

Her words should have stung, but there was no heat to them, no cruelty. Caleb stared at her and there was only one thing he wanted to do. Only one action that would, as she asked, make her forget. Make him forget.

He cupped her cheeks gently and tilted his head as he moved in toward her. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted her to kiss him. He would settle for that although his body burned for more, the way it seemingly only did for her.

But just as his lips were about to meet hers, Victoria cleared her throat from behind them. “Marah?”

Marah jerked to her feet and stumbled away from him with a blush. “Victoria,” she said, her voice cracking as she faced her friend. “I'm so sorry. I never meant to ruin your party or embarrass you.”

Victoria stepped forward and embraced her. “Stop. You've done nothing wrong, my dearest. I only wanted to check on your welfare and see if you would come back. I believe your sudden departure has only made the women more curious. I think if you come back with me and face them, we can end the subject just by refusing to address it.”

“That won't end the subject,” Marah said with a sigh as she shot a look toward Caleb.

“No, but it will end it for today,” Victoria said softly. “Will you come with me?”

Marah nodded. “Yes.” She turned to go but then moved back toward him. “Thank you, Caleb.”

They were three simple words, with little meaning just on the surface. But the way they were said, the look that accompanied them . . . it touched Caleb to his very core. It made him feel, for the first time in too long to recall, like he had done something worthwhile.

He nodded, untrusting of his voice at present, and watched as she walked away. But even when she was gone, her presence troubled him. This encounter troubled him.

He had spent years pondering Marah's sweetness, his attraction to her, and punished himself for the fact that he couldn't give her what she needed. But now that she had shared her past, he found himself drawn to her more than ever. And more than just physically.

They had something in common. A pain that few in their circles could understand for they had never endured it. And he felt closer to her than ever, even though he didn't want to.

Chapter 11

T
hree days had passed since Marah's true identity had been revealed by Lady Jericho, and as Crenshaw entered the parlor with another high stack of invitations that mentioned her especially, she moaned.

“This is becoming ridiculous!” she cried as the servant left the room. She crossed to the table where he had set the cards and letters and flipped through them.

“Well, not
all
of them are related to Lady Jericho's revelation,” Victoria said, but her voice was weak indeed, and Marah sent a scowl over her shoulder at her.

“Everyone in good society is fully aware that your family is gathered close due to the marquis' illness. You told me they have limited their invitations to you this summer, haven't they?”

Victoria sighed behind her. “Yes.”

Marah gathered up at least twenty-five invitations and spun around to hold them up. “And does
this
look limited to you? It is more than double what you were receiving before my secret was revealed.”

Victoria pursed her lips, but Marah set the things aside and continued before she could argue. “Do you remember when I took Betsy and went out to the seamstress yesterday to find a bit of ribbon to have added to my yellow morning gown?”

Victoria nodded. “Yes, you and your maid were out for about an hour, why?”

Marah raised both eyebrows. “When I returned you were resting and I didn't want to bother you, so I never told you that I was approached on the
street
.”

Victoria struggled to her feet with a look of concern. “By whom?”

“Some gaggle of awful ladies who were cooing and purring over me like I was some magnificent new animal they'd just discovered and wanted to turn into a coat!”

Victoria sat back down, resting her hand on her belly with a sigh. “Goodness, I thought you were trying to tell me you'd been molested by some strange man.”

Marah stared at her friend. Victoria was pale enough that she must have been truly worried for Marah's welfare. She moved to the couch and took her friend's cool and slightly clammy hand.

“Are you well, my dear?”

Victoria smiled and sat up straighter, though Marah could see it was only an attempt to placate her.

“Of course. It's just a slight headache. I'm very well, I only worry about you.”

Marah dipped her chin, hating herself for her utter absorption with her own problems. Victoria was dealing with so much. Not only did her friend go to sit with her father-in-law nearly every day, but she had been struggling with her own bouts of illness. Marah had even seen the doctor going in and out of Victoria's chamber from time to time. Still, she didn't always trust city physicians.

“Would you like me to examine you?” she asked softly. “You know I trained a bit under my grandmother. I might be able to give you some herbs to help if you—”

“No,” Victoria interrupted. “I appreciate it greatly, but I'm very well. I want to talk about
you
and your desire to refuse these invitations.”

Marah's lips thinned both at Victoria's dismissal of her attempt to help and at the subject she had turned to in order to distract Marah.

“Well, I don't want to accept them,” she protested.

Victoria folded her hands. “And why not? There is no reason you couldn't go. We could find a suitable chaperone even if Justin or I couldn't accompany you due to the marquis' condition. Alexander and Chloe will be back in Town soon, I'm certain they would gladly do it.”

Marah shook her head. “But these people aren't inviting me to their parties and balls because they find me charming or interesting, Victoria. They are inviting me because I'm like a sideshow at a circus to them! They now all know who my family is, so they want to stare at me and speculate. Or they think by befriending me they can somehow obtain the influence of my grandmother and my uncle.”

Victoria sighed. “You know, I was almost as sheltered from this world as you were when I first returned to London. I didn't know how to take the women of the
ton
or how to make myself comfortable at their gatherings. But I have learned a few things in my time here.”

“I would say so! You are obviously very well-liked and popular now,” Marah interrupted with a smile of pride for her friend.

Victoria blushed. “Thank you. But I was trying to say that any popularity I've gained also hasn't been because they like me as a person. Or at least, it wasn't at first. They invited me to their gatherings because I was the Earl of Baybary's mysterious wife, a woman who had been hidden away for years. They wanted to see me so that they could tell their friends about me. I was part of your circus sideshow as well.”

Marah frowned. “I sense a lesson coming in all this.”

Victoria laughed. “You know me well. And the lesson is that their disingenuous reasons for inviting me into their circle soon faded. I made some true friends and the rest fell away once they found something else of interest. It might be good for you to go to a few of these functions, let them get their staring and whispering out of the way and then try to obtain something of value from the experience. Like some more friends.”

“I have friends. I have you,” Marah protested.

Victoria laughed. “Yes, but if you think you might one day live in London, even part of the time, you will want to know more people than just me. I will bore you terribly if you spend every day with only me.”

Marah dipped her chin, uncomfortable with the idea that perhaps she was missing something by avoiding the events she had been invited to.

Victoria smiled. “Just think about it. I'll have Crenshaw set the invitations aside for a few days and we'll decide later.”

“I can't promise I'll change my mind,” Marah said softly, picking at her sleeve hem with distraction, though she was happy that this part of the conversation seemed to be coming to an end at last.

But Victoria plowed ahead into even more dangerous waters. “I-I saw you kissing Caleb.”

Marah swallowed hard and slowly lifted her gaze to her friend. “Which time?”

Victoria's eyes widened. “Oh dear, two I suppose, how many times have there been?”

Marah shut her eyes and was assailed by a running set of images of Caleb's mouth meeting hers, sometimes with passion, sometimes with gentleness, but always with a sweetness she craved . . . she even dreamed of it.

“More than two,” she admitted on a whisper. She took her friend's hands as heat flooded her cheeks. “Oh Victoria, what you must think of me!”

Victoria's brow furrowed. “Oh for heaven's sake, you know what I went through with Justin, I could never judge you in a hundred years for what you feel or for your attraction to a man. You two share a past, I know from personal experience how powerful a thing that can be.”

“But I told him I wanted to forget that past,” Marah said with a heavy sigh. She flopped back in the settee and covered her eyes. “I was so inflexible about it. I said I wanted to be acquaintances, nothing more.”

Victoria chuckled. “Well, you are very
good
acquaintances, I suppose.”

Marah glared at her. “Don't jest, this is a serious predicament. I told him that and I meant it when I said it. But then I allow his kiss. I want it, I've even instigated it.”

“There is nothing wrong with that,” Victoria insisted with a shake of her head.

“But there is!” Marah groaned. “Caleb Talbot has more than proven that he isn't a dependable man. He is wild and untamed, he goes out every single night and probably goes to bed with every courtesan in the city.”

Victoria gave a thin, irritated frown that let Marah know she believed that was what he was doing, too. Her heart sank despite herself, but she ignored it, fighting to keep the jealousy from her voice as she said, “Oh it doesn't matter anyway.”

“Why?” her friend asked softly.

Marah frowned. Sometimes it was hard to remember why, especially when Caleb was standing right before her. But she made herself focus on her dreams, on the goals she had set for herself
before
she had been forced to face Caleb again.

“After I returned to Baybary two years ago, I took a good look at myself,” she explained, thinking about the difficulty of that time for her.

She had been hurt and feeling quite stupid that she had allowed herself to believe she might have a future with a man like Caleb. There had been many tears and angry outbursts.

“I thought about the men in my life, the ones who had let me down,” she continued.

“There haven't exactly been many,” her friend said softly.

“Perhaps not, but the ones who
were
in my life all did. They left, Victoria. My father left, Caleb left . . . they are not dependable. I realized that if I was to be happy, truly happy, I needed a man who wouldn't offer me surprises.”

Victoria's brow wrinkled. “Sometimes surprises are the best part to a marriage.”

“For you, perhaps. You were lucky to discover that the love of your life was already your husband,” Marah said with a quick smile. “But that isn't true for most women.”

“No—” Victoria began.

Marah arched a brow. “We live in a society of arranged marriages. And being in love with one's spouse isn't in fashion. Or at least they say that in order to justify their lack of feeling. Come, you can't be blind to that.”

Victoria shook her head, her eyes sad. “You may be correct that
some
of those around us live that way.”

Marah rolled her eyes at the hard-won admission and continued, “Well, I realized that since the possibility of finding a great love was rather slim, I should instead find a man who could be my friend. A man who was dependable and good. One I could stand sharing a home and children with. And I think I have done that. I can't spend any more of my energies on Caleb and his kisses. They will lead to nothing but hurt. I
must
refocus myself on Emerson.”

A sigh was her friend's answer and Marah looked at her sharply. Victoria's lips were pursed and her expression gave all her thoughts away.

“I realize you have put a great deal of stock into Emerson Winstead,” Victoria said in an oddly placating tone. “But don't you fear he may be no better than those who sent you all the invitations over the last few days?”

Marah stared at Victoria. “Are you asking if I believe that Emerson may want me for what he can obtain from our marriage?”

Victoria hesitated, but then she nodded.

Marah leaned back in her chair and pondered that idea. “It's no secret that Emerson is building his investments.”

“And that he would like to have entry to higher society,” Victoria added quietly.

Marah shot her a look. “He is bringing himself up in the world, Victoria. That is something to be admired.”

“I agree, as long as he doesn't use
my
friend to do so.”

“No, I don't think that is the entire story.” When Victoria's eyebrows lifted, Marah shook her head. “I'm not saying that he isn't interested in my connections. I realize he wishes for Justin to invest in his shipping ventures and I'm certain he hopes our friendship will influence that goal, but it isn't as if he's kept that secret.”

Victoria frowned. “No, he is quite open about his requests. That is true.”

Marah nodded. “And he became aware of my family relationship to the Breckinridge title some time ago. We've spoken of it once or twice, but when I change the subject he always respects that. Victoria, I think he truly
likes
me. He was a solid and steadfast friend after my grandmother's death and he's never been anything but kind to me.”

“Have you kissed him?” Victoria asked softly.

Marah's gaze darted to her. Her cheeks heated. “N-no. I don't think we've progressed so far in our relationship yet.”

“In a year?” Victoria asked, and she sounded truly surprised.

Marah pushed to her feet and paced to the window. She was trying hard not to remember the day in the park a week ago when she'd thought Emerson might kiss her and had been relieved when he hadn't.

“I wasn't trying to explain our attraction, Victoria. I was trying to set your mind at ease that I recognize he might have some interest in my connections, but I don't think it follows that we couldn't be happy together.”

Victoria nodded her head. “Perhaps. But we all know Caleb doesn't give a damn about connection.”

Marah stared outside.

“No,” she mused softly. “He didn't know that my father was once the Earl of Breckinridge. When he found out, he didn't care except to worry about how that revelation affected me. Actually he was quite kind about it.”

“Which is why you kissed him,” Victoria whispered.

Facing her friend, Marah shrugged. “I suppose.”

But that wasn't true. She had kissed Caleb because she wanted to. Because she needed to. She might deny that to her friend, even to Caleb, but she couldn't deny it to herself. She had given up trying.

But wanting something and pursuing it were different beasts. She
wanted
a lot of things that weren't good for her and she denied herself. She had to remain strong now.

“But all that is over now,” she said quietly.

Victoria stared at her for a long while, as if she were trying to decide if she should argue the point or not. But finally she simply nodded.

“If you say so.” After a moment's silence, Victoria continued, “Lady Stratfield invited us for supper tonight. She asked especially for you to join us.”

Marah's cheeks heated with pleasure at this unexpected news. “She asked for me?”

“Yes,” Victoria said with a smile. “She so enjoyed making your acquaintance the last time you were a member of our party. I think you made everything a little lighter that night.”