A Scoundrel's Surrender (2 page)

“Come to London,” Marah whispered, her voice distant as she pondered that idea.

Her mind naturally went to the last time she had been to the city, two years ago when she accompanied Victoria. They had gone to conduct a shocking ruse and a desperate investigation over the disappearance of a dear friend.

But nothing had gone as planned. Victoria's long-estranged husband, Justin, had interfered and the two had ultimately reunited. As for Marah, there she had met Caleb Talbot, Victoria's brother-in-law. She couldn't help but recall his hands on her . . . and the moment when she realized he had left her life forever with hardly a good-bye.

“I don't know,” she said, turning her face as she wiped all the thoughts from her head. They were bothersome and served no purpose. She considered it a weakness when she allowed them to trouble her.

Victoria swallowed. “Please, please come. If not for yourself, then for me.”

Marah looked at her friend swiftly. Tears sparkled in Victoria's eyes and there was a deep and powerful fear that darkened her normally light demeanor. These things were not forced or pretended for Marah's benefit; there was no doubt Victoria was truly distressed.

“What is it?” Marah asked, grabbing her friend's hands and holding her tightly for reassurance.

Victoria hesitated before she choked out, “Our whole family suffers cruelly over the illness of Justin's father. I understated its seriousness when I spoke of it to you before. He—he is dying, Marah.”

“Oh no!” Marah said, as she put her arms around Victoria and held tight.

But her thoughts strayed traitorously to Caleb once again. Did he know of this? And after all he had been through, would he regret running away, at least from his family?

Victoria nodded. “It is difficult to see my husband so heartbroken, to visit with the marquis and to be unable to do anything to ease their pain. I could use a true friend to talk to, to turn to.”

“Of course, my dear,” Marah heard herself saying. “Of course I'll come if you desire and need my company.”

She kept a smile on her face, but her rational side silently screamed. The last place in the world she wished to be was London. Her memories of the place ranged from crushing disappointment to stark terror. And she had enough scars to remind her of those things. Without meaning to, she rubbed her wrist, where a raised, white piece of flesh remained from her last visit to Town.

“Thank you,” Victoria said, enveloping Marah in a hug that washed away her doubts, at least for a moment. “It means a great deal to me!”

As they parted, Marah forced a smile. She would focus on the good things about this trip and there
were
several.

“I suppose it
will
be pleasurable for me to see some friends,” she murmured, trying to convince herself as much as Victoria. “One friend in particular is of great interest to me, for he departed for London himself last month.”

Victoria, who had been smiling, now looked much more subdued. The shift troubled Marah. “Are you speaking of Mr. Emerson Winstead?”

Marah nodded. “I am. Once I send word that I'm coming to Town, I'm sure I'll see him.”

“I didn't realize you two had become so close.” Victoria worried the hem of her sleeve gently. “Your letters mentioned him frequently, of course, but your acquaintance must be increasing if your decision to come to London is in any part due to a desire to see him.”

Marah shrugged, though her friend's feelings on the matter meant more to her than she could likely express. “Do you disapprove of my friendship?”

Victoria's brow wrinkled and her hesitation was answer enough. “I only wish I knew a bit more about him. He is a mystery.”

“Not really,” Marah said, compelled to defend the man. “At least not to me. I met him almost a year ago. He has been nothing but affable, polite, and attentive, and he was so kind when my grandmother passed. He is dependable and
that
is what I desire.”

Victoria didn't seem any less concerned, but managed to nod. “Well, if he is important to you, I look forward to learning more about him. And London shall be the perfect opportunity for me to do so. Once we arrive at my home, we'll invite him to call and perhaps we can ensure a handful of invitations for him to a few balls or gatherings, as well. Justin surely has enough influence to arrange that.”

“Good,” Marah said with a satisfied sigh.

She knew, even if she hadn't expressed it to her reluctant friend, that her relationship with Emerson was developing slowly into something more than mere friendship. At some point she believed he would offer for her hand, and she had every intention of accepting.

Surely
then
she would forget what had happened in London. She would forget Caleb and the way his hands had moved over her skin, and his lips over her body in such wicked ways.

With a shake of her head, she cleared her mind of distracting thoughts. “Then let us go to Town!”

As she enveloped her friend in an embrace, Victoria smiled and Marah valiantly worked to do the same. Facing her past, facing her fears, wasn't something she looked forward to, but once it was done she hoped she could truly forget it all and move on to a future she prayed would hold stability and perhaps even happiness.

Chapter 2

C
aleb chewed on the end of his cigar restlessly. He longed for a drink, but since their arrival at Justin's home over an hour ago, his brother had made no offer of one, nor did he indulge himself in any of the tempting spirits locked in the finely crafted cabinet behind his desk.

“Can you really be enjoying that fine cigar if you only choose to maul it?” Justin asked as he looked up from the papers spread out before him with an arched brow.

Caleb removed the offending item from his lips and set it in the ashtray beside him. “I apologize. I suppose it is only anxiety at my return to London that causes my unease.”

“Did you not think you would ever come back home?” Justin asked softly, his brow wrinkling as if that idea pained him.

Caleb pondered the question.

“I-I suppose I hadn't ever planned that far ahead. Once I left the city, I never considered much about my future beyond where I would lay my head each night and obtain my next drink.”

Justin drew a long drag from his cigar and puffed out a perfect circle before he responded. “Life is about so much more than those things, you know. You've been given a precious one and you ought to do more with it.”

A shrug was Caleb's only answer. His brother did not,
could
not, understand what it was he had endured over the past two years. To discover his entire past had been a lie . . . that had torn him to pieces. No one could really comprehend it unless he had been through it himself.

“Do you have any plans now that you're here, at least?” his brother pressed.

Caleb steepled his fingers before him. “Well, it was a long few days' ride and I admit I thought about my future much more than I have in a very long time.”

Justin leaned forward, eyes dark with interest. “Indeed? And where have your thoughts lead you?”

“You are right about me,” Caleb mused as he stared at his brother whom he looked so much and yet so little like. “And you may crow about that admission since I know it pleases you.”

Justin flashed a quick grin, but didn't interrupt, so Caleb continued, “I've spent two years doing exactly what you accused me of in the tavern a few days ago. Wallowing.”

Justin frowned as if the memory pained him. “It was a harsh assessment said in anger.”

“But utterly correct,” Caleb said with a shrug. “I wallowed in my parentage. Wallowed in what I lost when I found out the marquis wasn't my father, that I wasn't who I always thought I was. I even wallowed in the fact that you kept all that from me. Even though I know you were blackmailed into marrying Victoria to protect the truth.”

Justin nodded. “I do not regret my marriage, but I should have told you myself rather than let you find out the truth by discovering the proof I burned. I should have given you the respect of trusting you with your own past. I
am
sorry.”

Caleb acknowledged his brother's apology with a brief nod. “But all my self-pity and indulgence didn't matter. Here we are back in London, and my situation has neither changed nor improved since I left. So I am finished with it.”

Justin cocked his head. “Finished with what?”

“I refuse to let my past dictate my life any longer,” Caleb explained. “So I'm not my father's son, what does it matter? Why shouldn't I continue on as before and pretend, as you did for so long, that this sad set of circumstances doesn't exist?”

His brother's brow furrowed. “Although I'm happy to hear you say that you no longer wish to run or hide from the truth, I'm not certain that
ignoring
what you know or pretending it doesn't exist is the best alternative.”

Caleb frowned. “Well, what would you have me do? Run to our father and confess the truth to him on his deathbed? Confront our mother?”

“Of course not,” Justin snapped with a peevish shake of his head. “But there must be something in the middle, Caleb. Perhaps you could find out more about the circumstances of your birth, the family that—”

“And tear apart some other family as ours has been torn apart?” Caleb asked, cutting off his brother with a wave of his hand.

Justin dipped his chin without answering.

“I've returned to London, Justin, as you wished me to do,” Caleb continued softly. “This is my decision and I intend to stand by it. I'll return to my rollicking days of yore. Please don't try to stop me or tell me how to live my life.”

Justin clenched his fists against his thighs, and Caleb knew his brother well enough to see that he wanted to argue and say more. But to his surprise, Justin only jerked out a nod.

“As you wish, Caleb,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “If you feel this is for the best, then I wouldn't dare to interfere in how you run your life. I think I did that far too much in the past.”

Caleb shrugged as he picked up the cigar he had abandoned and puffed it. “You only did it to protect me and to protect the marquis.”

Justin nodded, but the pain on his face at the mention of his father was palpable, and Caleb's own chest hurt at the thought of the man who had raised him.

“I wish we could have seen him today.” Caleb shook his head. “I find myself uneasy about the moment of truth.”

Justin nodded. “I hope you don't take today's denial of our company personally. Father still has many good days, but also very bad ones now. If today was a bad day, the shock of seeing you after so long could cause a setback. It's better to wait until tomorrow and allow him his rest. That way he can be happy to see you and not overwrought by the experience.”

Caleb couldn't help but shake his head at the idea that his father, so strong in all his memories, had to be tiptoed around in his illness. But he had other worries as well.

“I suppose I shall see Mother, too,” he murmured.

Justin's nod of reply was slow. “She doesn't leave his side, even when it is to her detriment. She'll certainly be there and I'm sure very happy to see you if her enthusiasm in today's letter was any indication. As will our sister. Tessa has often asked after you.”

“Yes, I received some of her letters.”

“But you never replied,” Justin said, but without any kind of opinion in his voice, including censure.

Still, Caleb couldn't help but wonder if Tessa had been hurt by his silence. He simply hadn't been able to think of a way to address her without saying too much or being too glib. Silence had been a poor way to solve that problem.

Caleb shook his head. The issue of his family was a complicated one, even in the face of his decision to move on from the truth and pretend it mattered little to him. That would be a thorny task with all of them staring him in the face. Seeing his mother, especially, would be difficult. Her actions had caused all this strife and there was some part of him that longed to confront her about that fact.

“You'll do fine,” Justin said softly, as if he read Caleb's mind. “I'll be there at your side and will do everything in my power to assist you.”

Caleb met Justin's eyes for a moment and smiled. “You already have. Thank you again for allowing me to stay with you. I had no idea my town home had gone into such disrepair during my absence.”

“I have no idea why that would be a shock to you! You haven't taken care of the place for years.”

Justin laughed, perhaps the first true sound of it since Caleb had turned and found him searching the tavern three days ago. It was a strangely contagious thing and Caleb grinned in return.

“I suppose. There is much I shall have to set to rights now that I'm here. And it allows me a chance to spend the money you'll surely give me in order to make the place livable again.”

Justin rolled his eyes, but before his brother could answer, there was the sound of movement in the hallway. Doors opened and shut, and in the distance Justin's butler, Crenshaw, spoke in low tones.

Justin was on his feet in a moment and Caleb couldn't help but stare. His normally dark and dangerous brother had just lit up like a candle glowed within him.

“Victoria,” Justin breathed before he turned and hurried from the room without further explanation.

Caleb followed, but moved with purposeful slowness. He wanted to allow the couple a moment to reunite before he interfered. He stepped into the hallway. At the end of it, in the foyer, his brother held his wife. The two were kissing in greeting and Caleb turned his face as a flash of unexpected jealousy filled him.

It wasn't that he had any feeling toward Victoria. She was a beautiful woman, to be sure, but he'd never experienced anything more than brotherly regard for her. No, it was that Justin seemed so
settled
now. So happy with his wife and the life they had built together after resolving the many problems that had once plagued their union.

It was something Caleb had never experienced before and somehow thought he never would. There was but one woman who had offered Caleb such acceptance, and he had thrown her away in his grief and upset. All the better for her, probably.

He shook off thoughts of Marah. What he wanted now was frivolity and fun. He had no intention of seeking out more from a woman but carnal pleasure. It had been a long time since he indulged in such bliss.

In that moment, the happy couple parted, and behind them Caleb saw what their embrace had hidden. Victoria was home, but she wasn't alone. Standing at a distance was the very woman Caleb had been contemplating. A woman he hadn't seen since he slipped into the night two years before.

Marah Farnsworth.

She hadn't yet noticed him as she stepped forward to greet Justin, so Caleb took the opportunity to drink in the sight of her. She was more beautiful than ever. Her blond locks were bound up beneath a traveling bonnet, but the curling length peeked out beneath the brim, appearing as soft and touchable as they had always been. And her eyes, those dark blue eyes that had offered him solace and understanding, sparkled as she smiled in greeting at her friend's husband.

Time hadn't changed her.

“Marah,” he said as he moved forward, almost against his will.

She froze at the sound of his voice and looked around Justin's form toward him. When she saw him, she actually took a long step backward, staggering until Victoria caught her elbow to steady her. She opened and shut her mouth once, then again before she found her voice and whispered his name.

“Caleb.”

With those two syllables he was undone all over again.

M
arah's heart pounded so loudly in her chest that she could scarce hear anything else above its rattling. The entire world had slowed to half time around her and all her focus had been shifted to that one person, the one man she had allowed near her in any way that mattered . . . only to have him run away from her. Ever since, she had been torn between wishing to see him again and praying she never would.

But here he was, standing not five feet away from her and advancing in her direction with slow, steady steps.

Caleb Talbot.

Their time apart had changed him, there was no denying that. Oh, he was still devilishly handsome, his bright blue eyes still as beautiful, his harsh jaw and full lips as kissable as they had been when they last met.

But gone was his sparkling air of mischief that had always made her smile. Gone was the hint of pleasure that forever quirked the corner of his lips.

Now there was a haggard quality to him. Like a dishtowel wrung too hard and left out to dry. He seemed leaner, but not in a healthy way. Like he didn't eat, like he hardly slept.

And despite herself, despite all her attempts to remain stoic toward him, her heart momentarily ached for him and his pain. She
knew
why he had changed, perhaps she was the only one who had fully glimpsed the heartbreak of what he had discovered about his parentage. Of course, that memory brought others. Like his kiss. His touch. His—

She blinked and viciously ended the stream of her thought. When he left, Caleb had made it very clear that he didn't want her, that whatever they had shared, it meant very little to him. She refused to make a cake of herself over him now.

Clearing her throat, she steeled her heart and steadied her tone before she spoke again.

“Mr. Talbot,” she said softly before she speared Victoria with a glare. “I didn't realize you were in Town.”

He stared at her for a long, charged moment before he spoke. “I had no idea you were here, either.” He hesitated. “You aren't staying with Victoria and Justin, are you?”

“Indeed she is,” Victoria said, saving Marah the effort of replying. If Marah hadn't been so furious at her friend, she might have hugged her, for her own tongue felt thick and her mind sluggish. “She is our guest for the remainder of the Season.”

Justin let out a slow sigh as he turned toward his wife. “My dearest, circumstances have dictated that my brother will also be our guest for the duration of his stay in the city.”

Victoria turned on her husband with a gasp of shock that Marah had no doubt was real. It seemed her friend was as surprised by this news as she was. Caleb . . . under the same roof as she? Great God, what a disaster!

“No!” Victoria said, then turned to her brother-in-law with an apologetic shake of her head. “Not that you aren't welcome, Caleb, but my understanding was that you would be staying at your own town home.”

Caleb seemed to have pulled his emotions into check, for, when he shrugged, it was with the nonchalance of a man who couldn't have cared less who stayed in what house and for what duration.

“I would have, my lady, but when we arrived we found the place in great disrepair. It seems I have been remiss in my duties.” He faced Marah slightly when he continued, “But I can see I've intruded here and upset your prior plans. I shall quit the house immediately.”

Marah's eyes narrowed. Was he so horrified by the idea of spending any time in the same house as she that he would bolt . . .
again
? Just as he had the last time they were together, only this time he admitted he would go. As if
that
made it better.