A Scoundrel's Surrender (3 page)

The anger she had long fought to suppress momentarily shot to the surface and bubbled over.

“You?
Quit?
How shocking,” she said through clenched teeth, unable to keep the bitter sarcasm from her tone.

Caleb spun to face her fully and she saw a brief flash of anger in his eyes, but she was happy to also see a rare glimpse of chagrin as well. Good. She hoped he felt sorry. God knew she had done enough of that since the last time she saw him.

With a flounce of her hair, she turned away before he could retort.

“Do as you wish, Mr. Talbot,” she said. “Your actions are meaningless to me. Now, I find I'm very tired from our travels. If you wouldn't mind, Victoria, I'd like to retire to my chambers.”

Victoria slowly stared from one fuming houseguest to the other before she nodded. “Of course, Marah. I'll show you to them myself.”

Marah nodded to Justin, but completely ignored Caleb as she turned away and followed her friend up the long hallway and to the staircase beyond. But with every step she felt Caleb's eyes burning into her. And it took everything in her not to look back at him.

M
arah dipped her hands into the icy cold water in the basin in her room and splashed it over her skin. She was surprised that it didn't sizzle when it met the heat of her anger and humiliation. Grabbing for a nearby towel, she dried the droplets of water that clung to her skin and drew in a deep, cleansing breath before she turned to face Victoria.

Her friend shifted with discomfort, but Marah was incapable of tempering her reaction at present. She'd never before felt so betrayed and ambushed.

“Would you care to explain yourself?” Marah said softly as she placed the bunched towel beside the basin. “Or at least tell me why Caleb Talbot is
here
, in this house?”

Victoria shook her head swiftly, but made no effort to move toward Marah.

“I'm so sorry, Marah. I had no idea that my brother-in-law would be staying here at the same time you were in residence.”

Marah arched a brow. From the sick, horrified look on Victoria's face, Marah believed that to be true, but regardless, the response didn't fully satisfy her. After all, it implied other, less savory statements.

“But you
did
know he would be here in London, didn't you?” she asked softly.

Victoria hesitated long enough that Marah knew the answer even before it was spoken, and she pursed her lips in increased displeasure.

Victoria whispered, “I did. At the same time I left Town to visit you in Baybary, Justin departed in the hopes he could locate his brother. His father asked him to bring Caleb home in these final weeks of his life and Justin couldn't refuse that request.”

Again, a surge of empathy for Caleb rose up in Marah, but she tamped it down firmly. There was no room for any deeper feeling for the man now. Not when he had made it so abundantly clear that he didn't want or need her regard, her empathy, or her affection.

She blushed before she spoke again. “If you knew he would be here, it follows that you were aware we would see each other, even if Caleb
wasn't
residing within your walls.”

Victoria nodded a second time, though the motion was slow to come. “I realized it was very likely that your paths would cross once you were both in Town, yes. After all, Justin is Caleb's brother. Whether he stayed here or not, we would have invited him to join us many times during your stay.”

“And yet you didn't share any of this with me when you urged me to join you in London.” Marah sucked in a breath, for she feared the sting behind her eyes that said tears were coming. She had cried so much over Caleb Talbot, she resented that she was on the verge of doing so again, even after two years. “
Why
did you do that to me?”

At least Victoria had the sense to look repentant. She stepped closer, reaching out a comforting and steadying hand toward Marah.

“I'm sorry. Perhaps I
should
have told you, but I feared it might keep you from coming to London. I realize it was selfish of me, but I need you here right now.” Victoria drew a breath and continued slowly, “And perhaps more importantly I think you
need
to see Caleb. And he, you.”

“Need to see him?” Marah burst out as she paced away from her friend. “Why in God's name would you believe that? He made his feelings more than clear two years ago and again today when he said he would quit the house immediately upon seeing me.”

“But you must have seen his emotion when he said it,” Victoria said. “I certainly saw yours.”

Marah pursed her lips. She had been too shocked to control her expression. She would have to work harder to do so in the future. “No, you are mistaken. There is nothing left between us.”

Victoria shook her head. “No, Marah.
Everything
is left between you, and that is why you've hidden away for so long. And we both know that there are many reasons for Caleb's departure from the city, but one of them is
you
.”

“What are you talking about?” Marah snapped even as the blood drained from her cheeks.

“You haven't ever spoken of it to me, but I
know
you two shared something powerful and instant two years ago when we came to London. I know when he left, your heart was broken, even if you tried to hide it. You have unresolved matters between you, and I think it would be good for you both if you finally faced them.”

Marah spun on her friend, barely stifling a bitter laugh. Oh, how little Victoria knew. She had longed to tell her the whole story of the afternoon she and Caleb had shared two years before, but somehow had been unable. Victoria didn't know the half of what had transpired that day, or in the days and weeks afterward.

That was her private pain. Her personal hell.

“Caleb . . .” Marah shut her eyes as her fingers moved of their own accord to the scar on her wrist. It was a permanent reminder of her last trip to London. “
Mr. Talbot
didn't wish to settle whatever was left unresolved between us when he had the chance to do so. And
I
want to move forward, not look back.”

“But you
don't
move forward!” Victoria insisted. “You have been living in the past, locked away in Baybary.”

Marah folded her arms. “Then be happy I've broken out of that shell and come here, but do not press me on the subject of Caleb, Victoria. It's clear from his behavior today that he can scarcely stand the sight of me, so there is little use to wishing for or creating more than that between us. We will be distant acquaintances from now on. That is all.”

Victoria seemed to wish to say more, but instead she shook her head slowly. “I'll leave you to your rest, then. Again, I apologize for withholding the information about Caleb's visit.”

Marah looked at her friend. Victoria did look truly distressed, enough so that it softened Marah's anger toward her. After all, Victoria was going through a great deal. It was Marah's job to help her, and judging her friend for what she had done did not fulfill that task.

With a sigh, Marah hugged her friend for reassurance. When she drew away, she shrugged. “Just don't expect to orchestrate some grand reconciliation, Victoria. It won't happen.”

Victoria looked at her with incredulity, but said her good-byes and left Marah alone. After her friend was gone, Marah went limp against the door.

A grand reconciliation. How often she had hoped for that, especially in the weeks and months immediately after their last encounter. She had frequently dreamed that Caleb would ride up to her door and apologize for abandoning her. That he would offer her the future of her heart, as she had once dared to dream they could share.

But the years since then had taught her one thing . . . she couldn't depend upon men like Caleb Talbot . . . men like her father. If she wanted happiness, she required stability, so whatever was once between her and Caleb was dead now.

For her sanity, it had to be.

Chapter 3

A
t a small supper table with only a few occupants, ignoring another person was almost impossible. But Marah was doing an admirable job of it and Caleb would have smiled at her dogged determination to pretend he didn't exist, if only he didn't recognize how fully he must have hurt her to cause this rift between them.

Leaving without a word had seemed like his best . . . perhaps his
only
option the night he'd done it. But now he had to live with the consequences.

Turning his attention instead to his brother and sister-in-law, Caleb sighed anew. The couple were seated close together, utterly engrossed in each other. They weren't eating and they certainly didn't seem to be interested in playing host and hostess. Apparently two weeks apart was enough to send them mad for each other.

He drew in a long breath and returned his focus to Marah. There would be no avoiding conversation if Justin and Victoria wouldn't be of assistance, so it was best to jump right in. Perhaps if he worked hard enough, he could overcome this tension between them tonight and put Marah as much in his past as he had decided he must do with the truth of his parentage.

“I was sorry to hear about the passing of your grandmother,” he began.

Marah lifted her gaze from her plate and speared him with dark blue heaven that had always sparked with whatever emotion she felt. Tonight there was pain in those captivating eyes, anger, but also a grief he was beginning to understand even if he didn't want to.

“Were you?” she asked in brusque tones. “I didn't receive a note from you when she died. I hadn't realized she even rated a thought, let alone any sorrow from you.”

He frowned. When he had heard of the death, he'd briefly thought of penning a missive. In fact, he'd begun several only to destroy them after deeming them either too emotional or not emotional enough. Ultimately he had talked himself out of the notion entirely.

“I
did
feel sorrow for you, Marah, but struggled to properly express it,” he said softly. “And you are correct in my lack of manners. I'm afraid that in the last two years I have lost those little niceties and civilities that dictate social behavior.”

Marah took a sip of wine, looking at him with stark disapproval as she did so. “The niceties and civilities are often what make life bearable. And they are present in even the lowest society, so you must have been quite an outcast during your time away.”

She meant the statement as a sling against him, and it struck home on a far deeper level than perhaps she had even intended. An outcast was exactly what he had been. What he remained and would probably always remain, if only because he no longer felt comfortable in his own skin.

“I was indeed,” he said softly. “But an outcast of my own making, I fear. At any rate, I apologize again, both for the pain of her passing and for my lack of manners in addressing the subject.”

She didn't answer, either to accept or to decline his apology.

Caleb sighed. “Perhaps we can strike upon a less painful topic now?”

She arched a brow, though the hardness of her face softened slightly. Caleb couldn't help but smile. It seemed he still possessed the ability to break through Marah's tough shell if he chose to do so.

“What topic do you suggest, Mr. Talbot?” she asked, her tone low. “Should we discuss the weather? The roads? Or perhaps today's fashions? What benign, emotionless matter would strike your fancy?”

She snapped her mouth shut and Caleb could see she regretted her sudden and emotional outburst, but he couldn't help but take solace in the unguarded moment. Marah had been so cold and distant since they first saw each other that he had begun to believe she didn't care for him at all anymore. This momentary burst of feeling, even if it was anger or upset, proved she wasn't as immune to him as she pretended to be.

“You know, this reminds me of the first time we met,” he mused, his mind turning back to that afternoon that at once seemed like yesterday and a hundred years before.

She frowned as she lowered her gaze to her plate. “Does it? I don't recall that day, I'm afraid.”

“No?” Caleb leaned closer, trying to determine if her bitter words were truth, but unable to read her expression now that she'd turned her face and he could only see her profile. “I do.”

Marah's lips twitched as if she was suppressing a smile, and triumph coursed through Caleb. No matter how strenuously she declared their time together two years ago had been meaningless, clearly that was a lie meant to protect herself.

“We were sitting at this very table, if I recall,” he continued, becoming more comfortable as he once more found the easy rhythm of teasing flirtation. He'd always been talented in that kind of surface interaction. “We shared a luncheon, I believe, but
you
were very cold.”

Marah turned a glare toward him, but there was a tiny sparkle hidden far within her eyes that drove him to continue.

“Only I was very lucky that you turned all your ire toward my brother then, not me.”

Justin laughed and both Marah and Caleb snapped their gazes to him in surprise. In truth he had almost entirely forgotten the presence of his brother and sister-in-law. As they had earlier with each other, he had become too engrossed in his companion to pay attention to his surroundings.

Justin smiled first at Marah, but then to Victoria with a knowing wickedness. She returned the expression immediately and undeniable heat sparked between them.

Caleb's brother said, “If Marah was cold to me then, it was nothing less than I deserved for my abominable behavior during her last visit to London. I'm only grateful she did not challenge me to a duel.”

Marah smiled and it was a friendly expression. Despite himself, Caleb stared. He hadn't seen that look on her face for so long he'd almost forgotten how pretty she could be when she was soft like this.

“My dear Lord Baybary,” she said with a shake of her head. “You did not deserve half my ire and if you did, you've certainly proven yourself more than worthy in the time since then.”

“I've done my best to prove myself,” Justin said softly, his hand moving to cover Victoria's on the tabletop.

Caleb couldn't help but notice that Marah looked away from the happy couple's easy display of affection and love.

“You and Caleb were a wicked pair then, my dear. And Shaw only encouraged you,” Victoria said with a light laugh of her own. “The stories you told that afternoon were terrible, though they seemed quite engrossing to Marah at the time.”

Marah returned her stare on her plate, and all her verve was muted as she shrugged. “That was long ago.”

“Not that long,” Caleb said.

Looking at her now, it seemed like that playful luncheon was yesterday, not two years past. At first he had only been flirtatious with her in order to assist his brother, who had asked Caleb to create a distraction for “the unpleasant Miss Farnsworth,” but by the time the afternoon had ended, Marah had captured his interest in reality. Despite her prickly exterior, Caleb had wanted her with a power that surprised him. He'd never been one to turn his attention toward chilly virgins.

Only Marah had ended up being so much more.

Victoria looked at her friend, but her expression was one of concern. She slowly got to her feet.

“Why don't we go to the library? We can share a bottle of port before we turn in.”

Justin laughed as he took his wife's arm. “I like the sound of the second part. We've been apart too long.”

Victoria blushed, but then she smiled at Caleb and Marah as the two exited the room.

Caleb got to his feet and turned toward Marah.

“Will you accompany me?” he asked.

She stared at his outstretched fingers, almost as if she feared them. In some small way, so did he. He hadn't touched her since that afternoon two years before when he had . . . well, he had touched her in ways that weren't gentlemanly. Now he anticipated this brief brush of their skin with great enthusiasm.

Slowly she rose from her seat. Their gazes met and she lifted her chin in defiance, refusing to break the stare as she extended a trembling hand and slipped her gloved fingers around his bicep.

There were three layers of clothing separating their skin and the touch was an utterly appropriate one, something one might even share with a sibling. But the moment her warm hand wrapped around his arm, Caleb felt anything but brotherly.

For the first time in too many months to count, the rush of desire flooded his body and his cock swelled ever so slightly. It had been so long since any woman inspired his interest that the feeling was immensely pleasurable and utterly surprising, enough so that Caleb stood stock-still as he sucked in a breath. He was like a green boy and it took everything in him to regain control.

“Are we going to follow Victoria and Justin?” Marah asked softly after a moment had passed. “Or simply stand here all night?”

Caleb suddenly had a long list of wicked activities he would rather pursue that evening, but he pushed them aside. “Of course we'll follow my brother and his wife.”

They stepped into the hall and down the short distance to the library where Victoria and Justin awaited them. As they entered the room, Caleb saw his brother's expression. It was troubled, worried, and more than a little confused. But who could blame him? Justin knew very little about what had transpired between Caleb and Marah. She was the one conquest Caleb had never bragged about.

For a short time the two couples talked, but it was obvious Victoria and Justin remained downstairs only out of courtesy to their guests. From time to time Justin slid his fingers along his wife's ungloved hand or Victoria leaned in close to him, and their desire to be alone was palpable.

Eventually the discussion tapered off and the couple became lost in their own world once more, talking low in the corner by the fire.

It seemed their closeness made Marah as uncomfortable as it made Caleb, for she finally slipped to the opposite side of the room and began to examine the high shelves of books as if they were the most interesting things in the world.

“You read Latin?” Caleb teased as he sidled up beside her.

She jerked her face toward his. “I beg your pardon?”

He nodded toward the shelf. “All these are my father's . . .” He trailed off as an unexpected burst of pain at the memory these books inspired hit him. He could almost see his father, spectacles perched on his nose, reading over one of his books. With a shake of his head, he continued, “They are his classic philosophical tomes. Most are in Latin, as you must have noticed.”

Marah looked at the shelf again, then smiled tightly. “Ah, I wondered why I didn't understand half of what I was reading. I assumed I was only distracted. I read but a little Latin, Mr. Talbot, and mostly in the context of medicine because of my grandmother's position as a healer, not philosophy.”

She turned toward him slightly, as if she expected him to say more. Unfortunately, all thoughts emptied from Caleb's mind in that moment and all he could think about was how utterly delectable her lips appeared.

Did she taste the same after all this time? Would she sigh if he touched her, or recoil?

She cleared her throat, blushing beneath his focused scrutiny. “So—so how do you find London after all your time away?”

Caleb's lips pursed with displeasure. From her expression and the tone of her voice, he could see Marah was only asking him the question to be polite. This was small talk, much the same as she might make with any person she didn't know. In some way, it was an attempt to push him into the category of faint acquaintance. To forget that they had shared not just passion, but an intimate exchange of emotion that he had never experienced with any other person in the world.

He liked her icy demeanor at supper more. There was something more intimate about her anger than her politeness. Anger implied more feeling.

“Mr. Talbot?” she pressed.

He shook his head. If she wanted a mere acquaintance, perhaps he should follow her lead. Certainly he couldn't and shouldn't be more. Not under the current circumstances of his life. He longed to lose himself in the meaningless existence he had once lived. A woman like Marah would want more than that. She
deserved
far more than he had ever been capable of providing.

“My brother and I arrived only a few hours before you did, but from the little I saw of the city, I found it much the same.”

She looked at him more closely than before, her dark blue eyes searching his face and seeing more than he wished to reveal. Finally she whispered, “But
you
are different.”

A blush immediately darkened her cheeks and she turned her face. “I apologize, Mr. Talbot, that was an abominably forward and rude thing to say.”

He shook his head. “It wasn't,” he insisted. “After all, you know a bit more about the situation than most. It was merely an observation and a keen one, I might add. Yes, I am a different man than I was the last time I came to London. You well know why.”

She nodded, her face still in profile, but he could see she understood. In some ways she did, and not only because she knew his secret, confessed in a moment of weakness and pain.

That moment haunted him, forcing him to relive it briefly, but in powerful detail. Victoria and Marah had come to Town two years before in a desperate attempt to find a missing friend. But their investigation had gone wrong in the end and the pair had been attacked by a man obsessed with the woman they searched for. The bastard had abducted Justin's wife, but left Marah behind.

She had been bound. Bloodied.

Caleb could still feel the way she had shook in his arms while he tended to the wounds around her wrists left by her cruel attackers. She had confessed her terror, on the edge of hysteria, and clung to him like he was her savior. It was the first time he'd ever felt like another person truly
needed
him and that he could provide more than frivolous joviality and empty companionship.