A Scoundrel's Surrender (22 page)

“My other grandmother told me he couldn't stand to look at me,” Marah whispered.

Lady Breckinridge blinked at tears. “Perhaps that was true. But not because he hated you. He saw his wife in you, and his failure of her on every level.”

“But he threw himself back into Society quickly enough,” Marah said, clinging to the facts she had been told for so many years.

The other woman nodded sadly. “He did, but I could see he had no joy in any of it. A year passed, then two. He made no effort to find a new bride, even though he had inherited his father's title by that time. Finally I approached him about seeing you again.”

Marah sucked in a breath and she felt Caleb's hand tighten on hers. She clung to his fingers like they were a lifeline as she whispered, “What did he say?”

A tear slipped down the other woman's cheek. “He wanted to go to you. To reunite with you and mend what had been broken by his grief. But before he could, he was stricken ill. He died shortly thereafter.”

Marah's heart leapt. Was she really hearing these words? These things she had prayed for as a little girl? She could scarce believe it and she whispered, “He wanted me? He was coming for me?”

Lady Breckinridge nodded. “I
did
write to you through your grandmother after his death, but she rebuked me quite harshly for the attempt.”

Marah shut her eyes. Yes, she could see her grandmother, a loving but direct woman, doing such a thing.

“I think she feared we would steal you away from her. I couldn't blame her. She had been through the worst thing a parent could experience: losing a child.”

Lady Breckinridge's eyes filled with tears and Marah felt her own swell with the same. She found herself looking toward Caleb. The one commonality for all of them was their grief. In that moment she felt bonded to them both. And being bonded to Caleb frightened her.

The other woman gathered herself and continued, “I never gave up hope that in time she would soften in her stance against our contacting you. Finally, when you turned thirteen, I started writing you directly. I felt you were old enough then to decide yourself if you wanted to know your father's blood. When I received no reply, I assumed you must have the same feelings toward us as your grandmother did. And when I heard you came here, but made no effort to meet, I didn't want to push you any further. But now . . . knowing you never saw my missives, I wish I had kept trying. I'm so very sorry, Marah.”

Marah shook her head. Her mind was spinning with everything she now knew. “For so long I thought you were ashamed of me,” she whispered.

“I'm ashamed of myself. I realize our family might not deserve it, but I hope we can establish some kind of ties.” Lady Breckinridge tilted her head with a smile. “You have so much of my son in your face.”

Marah smiled. “I-I would like to know you more. Perhaps hear more about my father. I only had snippets, bare facts from a woman whose view of him was colored by grief.”

Lady Breckinridge nodded. “And there are others in our family who would love to meet you. You have aunts, an uncle, and many cousins who I'm sure will be very happy to see you if you allow it.”

Marah shifted. “Perhaps . . . perhaps slowly. This is a great deal to grasp at once.”

Her grandmother nodded. “Of course. May I invite you back to tea just with me later in the week, then? You are staying with Lord and Lady Baybary, are you not?”

Marah nodded. “I'd like that.”

“Good.” Her grandmother rose, and Marah and Caleb stood with her. “I would like to hug you. May I do that?”

Blinking back tears, Marah moved toward this woman she had so feared, and entered her embrace with a shiver. They stood in each other's arms for a long moment and then Marah stepped back. Both of them swiped at tears.

“Good day,” her grandmother murmured.

Marah smiled. “Good day.”

Caleb took her arm and led her from the room. But as they exited into the hallway, Marah looked back to see her grandmother beaming with pure pleasure. For the first time in a long time, Marah felt . . .
whole
, and that gift had been granted to her by the man whom she had accused of being incapable of giving her such concern and care.

It had been given to her by a man whom she realized she loved with all her heart and soul.

Chapter 23

C
aleb sat across the carriage from Marah. She was looking out the window, watching as her grandmother's home disappeared from view. When it was gone, she looked at him and her smile was the greatest reward he had ever been given.

“Caleb,” she said softly. “Why did you do this for me?”

He drew back a fraction. “You think me incapable of an act that is selfless?”

She shrugged. “I know you have the potential for great kindness. I've seen you display it. But we have quarreled. And I . . . I have promised to marry another man. So I wonder why you would do this for me after all that has transpired between us since we both arrived in London.”

He was quiet for a moment. What he wanted to say was that he had done it because he loved her. Because he wanted her to be with him. Because he wanted to prove that he was the kind of man she believed she wanted . . . needed.

But Justin was right. Every time he spoke to Marah, Caleb spoke in terms of his own desires. And if he really wanted to prove that he was worthy, he had to allow her to decide that fact all on her own.

“Marah, you have given me such a gift by supporting me when I told you about my past. When I asked you to stand at my side as I found my brothers,” he said. “From personal experience I know how important knowing your family . . .
all
your family is. So that is why I did this for you. Because I know you deserve some of the peace, the resolution that you have offered me without asking anything in return.”

He moved toward her. She stiffened, but didn't draw back as he reached out. With the back of his hand he stroked her cheek. “Marah Farnsworth, you are the most remarkable woman I have ever known. The most remarkable woman I will ever know. You deserve everything good in this world and more.”

Her lips parted and her brow wrinkled with confusion and emotion. “Caleb—”

“Even if it's not enough, even if it's never enough,” he interrupted, “I wanted to try to show you what you deserve.”

He leaned back as the carriage came to a stop at Victoria and Justin's home. “Now we are back,” he said as he smiled at her. It took every bit of his strength not to reach across the carriage and drag her to him. Kiss her until he forced her to admit that she felt something for him.

“I hope I will see you later,” he said as the footman opened the carriage door and extended a hand for Marah. She stared at Caleb for a long time and then she took the help out with a dazed expression.

“Good-bye Caleb,” she whispered.

He smiled as the carriage door began to close. “Good-bye, my love.”

And the vehicle drove away with Marah standing in the driveway, watching it go.

M
arah stumbled down the upstairs hall toward her chamber with her mind spinning. Not only did she have thoughts of her reunion with her grandmother to cloud her mind, but then Caleb's behavior in the carriage. He hadn't pushed her. He hadn't demanded. He had simply given her this gift without asking anything in return.

And she could have sworn he called her his love. But that couldn't be correct.

She came to a stop. Down the hall was Victoria's chamber. Crenshaw had informed her that her friend had gone to read. Marah moved forward. She needed her friend more than anything right now. Her advice and her soothing nature had to help Marah sort out the confusion.

When she knocked lightly, she heard movement and low voices inside. Without waiting, she opened the door.

Victoria was in her dressing room, but she was in a state of undress. As she and her maid turned toward the interruption, Marah covered her mouth in shock. There was no denying the swollen swell of Victoria's belly and the heaviness of her bare breasts.

“Marah!” Victoria gasped.

Marah ignored her and came into the room, shutting the door behind her. “Victoria,” she breathed. “A baby?”

Her friend gave a quick nod to her maid and the young woman handed Victoria a robe and then hurried from the room. When the servant was gone, Victoria approached her. As she grew near, a wide, joyful smile broke across her friend's face.

“Yes,” she said with a laugh that seemed to lighten all the troubles in the world. “I'm having a baby.”

Marah hugged her friend and then rested her hand on the belly she hadn't noticed thanks to her friend's well tailored, high-waisted gowns. And, if she was honest, her own distraction had probably kept from her being observant.

“Oh, why didn't you tell me?” Marah asked as the two women moved to the settee before Victoria's fire.

Her friend frowned. “I was . . . afraid.”

Marah's own smile fell and she nodded. “Because you lost a child before.”

Victoria sucked in a breath. That was how Marah had met her friend. Her grandmother had tended to her during her ill-fated pregnancy.

“I didn't want to raise anyone's hopes and then have them crushed if the child was lost,” Victoria said softly, her hand coming down to protect the unborn baby. “And then with the marquis' illness, it was unseemly to celebrate a birth. Though we did tell his father and mother.” She smiled. “The marquis was delighted beyond measure at the news. It seemed to bring him such peace before he slipped away from us.”

Marah shook her head. “You brought me here for support during this trial and I fear I've been the worst friend. I've been wrapped up in my own dramas for so long that I didn't ease your pain or your fear at all.”

Victoria shook her head. “You have had a great deal thrown at you since your arrival.”

Marah thought of Caleb. She still desperately wanted to talk to her friend about her day, but she forced herself to focus. “How far along in the pregnancy are you?”

“Almost five months.”

Marah smiled. “Then your fears should be eased. Most women lose a child in the first three months. You are well past that threshold and you look happy and healthy.”

Victoria smiled and her relief was palpable. “That is what my doctor says. But I hope you might come and tend to me when the birthing begins. You have so much of your grandmother's knowledge.”

Marah nodded without any hesitation. In fact, Victoria's request relieved her. “Of course!”

“That is, if your husband will allow it,” Victoria corrected.

Marah blinked. Her husband? And then she realized that Victoria meant Emerson. A man she had all but forgotten.

“What is it?” her friend asked, taking her hand. “I have been thinking of you all day. Are you thinking of your visit with your grandmother?”

Marah pursed her lips. “You tricked me.”

“Yes, I took part in the ruse because I believed Caleb was right that you needed to face her and you wouldn't do it unless dragged.” Victoria squeezed her fingers lightly. “How was it?”

Marah sighed as she briefly recounted the visit. “I feel odd about it all. For so long to believe one thing and then . . . poof! Your life has changed.”

Victoria smiled. “You sound like Caleb.”

Marah nodded. Yes, she and Caleb shared that odd experience. Along with a great many things.

“Victoria, he . . . he gave me my family back,” she whispered.

Victoria nodded slowly. “I suppose he did.”

“And on the way home, when I asked him why, he asked for nothing in return. This wasn't a bargaining chip or a way to make me bend to his will. He seems to have done this merely to make me . . .
happy
.”

“That is a rare thing, my dear.” Victoria's soft smile and distant eyes made it clear she was thinking of her own husband.

“You know he asked me to marry him a few days ago.”

Victoria drew back. “What?”

She nodded. “With all that was going on, I didn't tell you. But he asked me not to marry Emerson and to take his hand instead. But I can't do that, can I?”

Victoria got to her feet. “Why?”

“Our past . . . his casual nature.”

Victoria threw up her hands. “You would give away the great gift that is love for
that
? For fear?”

Marah blinked. “Am I so obvious?”

Victoria nodded. “And so is he. You two love each other. It is unavoidable and undeniable. And if you toss it aside, I shall never forgive you.”

Marah started. Her friend's tone had a seriousness to it that went deeper than her words.

“Do you not remember my past with Justin?” Victoria continued. “How tumultuous our reunion was? My God, I could have lost everything if I hadn't risked my future on the love I knew we shared.”

Marah nodded. “But it's different.”

Victoria shrugged. “The particulars may be, but at the core the situations are the same. Love versus fear. The past versus the future. And I beg of you, don't make the mistake of throwing away all the potential for joy and happiness, all the magic and utter uncertainty that love will provide just because you are
afraid
. You'll regret it and I'll have to watch you wither under the weight of your poor choices.”

Marah had had no idea that Victoria felt so strongly about this. “You have never said these things to me before.”

Victoria shrugged. “I suppose I wanted you to work this out on your own. But this baby, the marquis' death, Caleb's attempt to find out who he is . . . they have all underscored to me how delicate and fleeting life is. You may only have this one chance at happiness. Please be the brave, remarkable woman I know you are and take it.”

Marah blinked. Tears stung her eyes and she swiped them away. “What if I can't.”

“You can,” Victoria said as she wrapped her arms around Marah. “You only have to try.”

C
aleb strummed his fingers along the arm of his chair as he looked toward the parlor door again and again. He had been called to his brother's house for the first time in two days. The first time since he rode away from Marah with the hope that his gesture of love would make her see him for the man he wanted to be.

The door opened and he stood as Crenshaw stepped in. “Miss Marah for you, Mr. Talbot.”

His heart froze as Marah entered the room. Her face was pale and her eyes unreadable as she looked at him. Crenshaw excused himself and after he had gone, Marah reached back and quietly shut the door.

Caleb held his breath. It was an inappropriate reaction for a woman engaged to another. For an unmarried woman at all. And yet she didn't hesitate as she came forward.

She cleared her throat. “Thank you for coming, Caleb.”

He tilted his head. “
You
invited me here? I thought it was Justin.”

“I copied some of your earlier trickery,” she said with a blush. “I thought you might not come if it was me who called you.”

He moved forward, unable to resist her draw.

“Marah,” he whispered. “I would come any time you called. From any distance. I would cross the world if you sent for me. I haven't always shown you that, but my intention is to try to prove it up until Winstead puts his vile ring on your finger.”

Marah sucked in her breath at that declaration. “I broke the engagement.”

For a moment Caleb lost all ability to move, to speak, even to breathe. A riotous joy built steadily in his chest, but he somehow managed to remain calm. After all, her broken engagement gave him hope, but it didn't mean he had earned her trust or love.

“Why?” he asked softly.

She turned her face. “I'm ashamed to say that your assessment that my union with Emerson was mercenary was correct, but it was on both our parts. He wanted to use me to further himself. And I wanted to use him to hide. But in the end, I realized I need something different in a husband.”

Caleb frowned. Marah had never made it a secret what she thought she needed in a mate. Stability, which in his current state of continued upheaval, he wasn't certain he could provide to her satisfaction.

He sighed. “You need a man you can depend upon.”

“Yes.” She nodded and his heart sank. “But I was wrong about what that meant.”

He tilted his head. “How so?”

“I thought dependability meant a man who would never surprise me or shock me. A man who would be so evenhanded that he never felt any strong emotion. But I was wrong, so very wrong.” She inched closer. “A man who is dependable is one who shows up when he's needed. Who takes me in his arms and kisses me until I can't think or breathe or hurt. A man who would drag me kicking and screaming to a place I feared . . . but needed to go. And most of all, a man who is dependable is a man I know I can love for the rest of my life. But—”

She cut herself off, and Caleb somehow found his voice. “But?”

“I need to know if that man, the man of my heart and my dreams, loves me, too.” She slipped her arms around his waist and looked up at him. “Do you love me, Caleb Talbot?”

He could see the worry on her face, the last remnants of the doubt that had kept them apart for so long. And he wanted nothing more than to wipe it away, never to return.

“I love you, Marah,” he admitted, brushing a lock of hair away from her forehead. “With so much power and so much depth that I feel it in my blood. I felt that love for you two years ago, but in the midst of my grief, I made the terrible mistake of running from it and from you. But I'm finished running. At least away from you. If you let me, I will only run into your arms for the rest of our lives.”

Her breath caught and the joy on her face was enough to steal his speech.

“I love you,” she whispered. “Will you ask me again what you asked me in the carriage last week?”

He dropped down on both knees and looked up into her face. Tears streamed from her eyes, but she was smiling so brightly that he could have stayed like that forever.

“Marry me,” he whispered. “Marry me and no one else.”

She nodded. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”