Something Reckless (19 page)

No, he wasn’t even trying to convince himself he wasn’t in the wrong anymore. He’d tried that for the first half hour after Penelope left him with only a stinging slap and even more painful words of well-deserved censure.

He’d fought to remember that at any time during their arrangements, whether as himself or her faceless stranger, she could have refused him. That she could have said no. He had desperately tried to reclaim that icy cold cloak of distance he once kept around him. But it was impossible. It no longer fit.

Penelope had changed him too much in the short time they’d spent together. Now everything was wrong, and he had no idea how to fix it.

“Lord Kilgrath?”

Jeremy didn’t even bother to look over his shoulder at the servant who had breeched his lonely sanctuary. “No interruptions, please. I’m in no mood for company.”

“Even mine?”

He turned at that. Christopher stood in the doorway beside a footman. And his brother looked worried.

“Of course, you are welcome,” Jeremy said on a sigh.

As the servant left, Christopher closed the door behind him and crossed the room to the poorboy. He held up the rapidly emptying scotch bottle with a lifted eyebrow.

“At least when you wreck yourself, you choose the best,” his brother mused. “May I join you?”

“In wrecking myself?” Jeremy asked as he took another swig of his drink. “By all means.”

His brother poured just a splash of liquor into a glass and quietly swirled the liquid as he stared at Jeremy. “I came here because Anthony Wharton visited me this afternoon, complaining about some kind of falling out the two of you had. But I somehow doubt the look on your face has anything to do with that.”

Jeremy pursed his lips. “Right now I couldn’t care less what Wharton thinks. He isn’t the man I thought he was.” He stared past his brother at the fire. “Neither am I.”

“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” Christopher said as he motioned to the chairs before the picture window.

Jeremy nodded as he took one of the seats. He leaned his elbows over his knees and quietly, calmly recited everything he had done. It felt like confession, but there was little penance or absolution his brother could offer. And judging from the shocked expression on Christopher’s face, he didn’t plan to give any.

“And then she slapped me and left,” Jeremy concluded, and downed the last few droplets in his glass.

Christopher shook his head. “Well, judging by what you’ve told me, I think getting a slap on the face is better than she could have done. A knee to the balls sounds more fitting.”

“Thank you,” Jeremy said, his voice dry as he glared at his brother.

“Honestly, this is not a courtesan or a philandering married woman, Jeremy,” his brother said. “Penelope Norman is a
lady
. And as silly as you thought her crusade was, you must have known what you were planning was wrong.”

“Absolutely,” Jeremy said. “But I didn’t care. Actually, that seems to be the tale of my life, doesn’t it? I have always done exactly what I wished, without thinking of the consequences to anyone else. I have been an utter bastard my entire life.”

Christopher shook his head. “Come now! That isn’t true.”

“Isn’t it?” Jeremy pushed to his feel and pulled a hand through his hair. “Do you realize, I don’t even know where Mother is? I haven’t
read
any of her letters. When you married, I resented you. Not for finding love, not for being happy…but because your marrying made
my
life less interesting. Christ, I could hardly remember Hannah’s name the first month you were married.”

Christopher frowned, but didn’t interrupt him.

“I have never bothered to think of anyone else…ever. So, I certainly didn’t think about Penelope. At least, not at first. And now I’ve hurt her beyond measure. She considered me a friend, and I betrayed her in every way imaginable.”

“And you hate yourself for it,” his brother said quietly.

Jeremy hesitated. Admitting that meant admitting to something much deeper. But he couldn’t deny it. Not to his brother. Not to himself.

“Yes,” he said, getting to his feet and pouring another drink. But this time, he didn’t take a sip.

“You are in love with her.”

It wasn’t a question. Christopher made the statement with an even expression. Jeremy froze. He’d known his feelings for Penelope had changed in the time he spent with her. And not only the time in her bedroom, where he realized she was a passionate lover.

No, it was the time spent when she knew his face that really mattered. He’d realized she was intelligent, empathetic, and even funny. Over the weeks, he’d come to crave seeing her. Talking to her. Just being in her presence and watching her reaction to the broadening of her world.

He’d even confessed some of his deepest secrets to her and never once regretted it.

So the idea that he loved her…fit. It was terrifying and thrilling all at once. And it made his betrayal all the more devastating.

“It doesn’t matter,” he choked out. “I have ruined everything.”

Christopher got out of his chair quickly enough that it rocked back. “What the hell is the matter with you? Are you my older brother or have you been overtaken by some mysterious force? I have never known you to surrender so willingly. And this is the most important fight of your life. If you love her, if you truly
want to be with her, then you will go to her. You will do everything in your power to make her see that you
have
changed. That you would give up anything if it meant loving her.”

Jeremy swallowed hard and set his drink down. “Is that what you did?”

“Yes,” Christopher admitted. “And I have never regretted it.” He motioned to the door. “Go. Now. Or you
will
be sorry for the rest of your life.”

Jeremy straightened his shoulders and gave his brother a half grin. “I refuse to have regrets. Even if I have to fight for the rest of my life, I
will
win.”

“I will wait here all day, but I will see your mistress,” Jeremy said half an hour later as he stood in the foyer of Penelope’s home, glaring at the servant who blocked his way to the woman he loved. “I know she is here.”

“Actually, she isn’t,” Fiona said as she slowly descended the stairs. Her arms were folded across her chest, and there was a light of fire and protectiveness in her eyes that made Jeremy bite back a sigh. He’d vowed he would fight for Penelope. It seemed he would be forced to do so just to see her.

“Then where is she?” he asked, meeting the former courtesan’s eyes with steel in his own.

Fiona motioned to the parlor with a cold stare. “Why don’t we speak of this privately?”

“Very well.” He followed her into the room. “Tell me where Penelope is.”

Fiona slammed the door shut and glared at him. “I don’t know what you did to her. I received a note from her not half an hour
ago saying she would not be home. But the hand was very shaky. I have long suspected you were playing some kind of game with her, pretending to be reformed, but for what purpose? What did you do to her?”

“I lied to her,” he snapped back. “And I played her for a fool.”

Fiona shook her head. “You have no shame, Jeremy Vaughn.”

He bit back a humorless laugh. “There is where you are wrong. All I have left is my shame. I hate myself for what I have done, more than even you can imagine.”

Fiona drew back, her anger turning to surprise at his candor. “Hate yourself? You?”

He nodded. “Yes. For a great many things.” He stepped closer. “Fi, why didn’t you ever tell me what Wharton did to you?”

The color drained from Fiona’s face so rapidly that Jeremy held out a hand to steady her.

“What?” she asked, her voice a mere cracking whisper.

He tilted his head. “You know what I said. I could have helped you.”

Fiona barked out a laugh. “Please. You wouldn’t have cared. Wharton is one of your best friends, and I was little more than a whore in your eyes. No one would have stopped him.”

Jeremy shook his head. There were many things he questioned about the life he had lead so far, but this was not one of them.

“I would have cared, Fiona. And I would have done everything in my power to stop him. Everything.”

“Perhaps you would have,” Fiona said softly. “Perhaps I didn’t think I deserved anything better until Penelope intervened. She told me I was owed more. That I was better than the life I lead. But I…”

She stopped and Jeremy watched as she paced away restlessly.

“Fiona, we have both been deceiving Penelope. I certainly don’t compare what you’ve withheld from her with what I did. But a lie is a lie. You need to tell her the truth now. You don’t really want to be a lady’s maid, do you?”

Fiona hesitated for a long moment before she shrugged. “No. I don’t. But I did my best to do so for her. Because she was so good to me.” She turned back and stared at him. “What would
you
be for her, Jeremy?”

He sighed. “I would be a better man. But I can’t make anything I’ve done to her right if I can’t find her.”

The former courtesan paced away to the window, pondering his words. Finally, she turned. “She is at her sister’s. At Lord Rothschild’s estate here in London. Do not make me regret telling you that.”

Jeremy spun on his heel and headed for the door. “I will do my best, Fiona. Good night.”

“And good luck,” Fiona called behind him.

“You have barely eaten a bite,” Miranda said quietly. “Is there nothing I can offer to tempt you?”

Penelope looked up from her supper with a start. She hadn’t even been paying attention to her surroundings, let along thinking about food.

“I’m sorry,” she said with a sigh. “It all looks wonderful. I just…can’t concentrate.”

“I’m going to break his arms,” Ethan muttered as he took a sip of wine. “I swear to all that is holy.”

Miranda arched a brow at her husband. “Come now, my dear. I don’t think Penelope wants the man to be incapacitated, as lovely a thought as that is. And don’t forget, you have made your own mistakes in life. As have we all.”

Ethan shrugged. “I suppose that is true. But he had best not darken this door at present.”

As the very words left his lips, a servant came into the room. “I apologize, my lord, but the Duke of Kilgrath has arrived and refuses to leave without an audience with Lady Norman.”

All the blood drained from Penelope’s face as she slowly pushed to her feet. “Jeremy is here?” she said, grasping the edge of the table for purchase.

Miranda jumped up and put an arm around her waist. “You do not have to see him. Ethan can handle him.”

Penelope blinked. Her vision was swimming and she felt completely off-kilter. She had expected Jeremy to make some kind of appearance at some point, but not so soon. And not
here
!

The idea of seeing him was both tempting and terrifying. Despite all his lies and betrayals, her blood quickened at the thought of him. It was a desperate, visceral reaction that she wished she could quell with all her being, yet she couldn’t.

Her terror was just as powerful. She wasn’t certain she could face Jeremy without breaking down. Without admitting things she didn’t want him to know. Without making a fool of herself yet again.

“Yes, let me deal with him,” Ethan said, throwing his napkin on the table and shoving to his feet.

Penelope looked from her sister to Ethan and then gave a jerky nod. But as Ethan turned to go to the foyer, she said, “Wait.”

Her brother-in-law turned back with a frown. “Yes?”

“Don’t…,” she hesitated, “…hurt him. Promise me.”

Ethan chuckled. “Very well. I promise not to do anything that will cause permanent damage.”

As he left the room, Penelope turned to her sister. “I’m a coward, I know.”

Miranda shook her head. “No. You are hurt. And when you are ready, then you will see him.”

Penelope shivered as Miranda led her to a back servant’s door so they could go upstairs undetected. Yes. She would see Jeremy eventually. But for now, she wasn’t ready to face the possibility that only guilt drove him to her, nothing more.

Jeremy surged to his feet as the door to the parlor he had been shoved into opened. But instead of Penelope’s face, it was Ethan Hamon, Earl of Rothschild who stepped in. Jeremy moved toward him with a scowl.

“I want to see Penelope.”

Rothschild folded his arms, one dark brow rising with slow and dangerous intent. “I don’t give a damn what you want. What you
want
got you into this mess. Now sit down before I seat you, myself.”

Normally, Jeremy wouldn’t have let a threat like that stand, but he could see that Rothschild had no intention of letting him see Penelope. So he returned to his seat and sank down.

“She won’t see me?” he asked, trying to measure his tone.

Ethan took a chair across from his. “No.”

The word was so small, yet it packed the power of a fist to his gut. Jeremy swallowed against a constricted throat.

“So this is over.”

Saying the words out loud made him sick. He had never deserved Penelope, yet he had somehow earned her trust and ob
tained the precious gift of her caring. But he’d lost them both because of his own stupidity.

Ethan shrugged. “Right now Penelope is very hurt.” He glared at Jeremy. “
Very hurt
.”

Jeremy flinched as Rothschild continued, “However, I would never presume to guess the mind of a woman in such an emotional state. If it were me, I would simply give Penelope space.”

Jeremy opened his mouth, but Rothschild shook his head. “Take it from a man who has been almost as big an ass as you are. Give. Her. Space.”

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Jeremy paced to the window. He had never been a man to wait, to be patient. He was about action, not reaction. And he feared that at this point, nothing would help his cause.

“Space won’t make a difference,” he groaned. “What I did was…it was…”

“Unforgiveable?” Rothschild offered blandly.

Jeremy’s stomach turned. “Perhaps.”

“Horrible. Wretched. Asinine,” the other man continued.

“Thank you,” Jeremy interrupted with a scowl. “I understand your point.”

He returned his attention to the gardens outside. Everything he had done since the first night he approached Penelope ran through his mind like a dream. From the ugly lies to the sweet responsiveness of her body. From the way her hands shook when she realized what he had done to the sound of her sighs as she slipped into sleep. All the memories, the good and the wretched, were the most important of his life.

So he would wait. God knew, she was worth waiting for. But
while he did so, he had to act. He had to do something to prove he was a changed man. Truly, this time. Not like the lies he had told her.

And there was only one thing he could think of that would begin to set things right.

He turned to face Ethan. “I need your help.”

Rothschild paused. “You are in love with her, aren’t you?”

Jeremy nodded. “Yes.”

The other man sighed. “Very well. What do you need?”

Penelope rested her head against the back of the bench in Miranda’s beautiful rose garden.

“I’m in love with him, you know,” she said softly. Admitting it out loud was far less difficult than she thought it would be.

Miranda laughed. “Of course you are. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be so upset.”

Penelope stared at her sister. “You don’t think I’m a complete idiot for loving him even after hearing everything he did? All the lies he told?”

“Of course not,” Miranda said, taking her hand. “I, for one, believe that even the worst of circumstances can work out for the best in the end. Some women meet a handsome gentleman in a crowded ballroom, are courted very properly, fall in love and marry their prince charming. I know quite a few who did just that. But sometimes our princes are disguised as utter rogues, and we fall into the bedroom before we ever meet in the ballroom.”

“Like you did,” Penelope said.

Her sister nodded. “Perhaps Ethan and I did everything back
ward. But the fact is that our journey was what it was. We might not have fallen in love, or at least we would have found our road much harder, had we been proper and correct. Ethan, especially, would have had a difficult time allowing himself to court in that fashion. And Jeremy is very much like Ethan used to be.”

Penelope laughed, but she didn’t feel very amused. “Funny how I censured the man so completely and then fell in love with a person with an equally hideous reputation.”

Miranda shrugged. “Rakes make good husbands. Especially when they fall in love.”

“I said I loved him. I have no idea of his heart.” Penelope plucked at a rose petal absently.

“I overheard him with Ethan before they left,” Miranda said.

Penelope straightened up. “You did? How?”

Her sister shrugged with a mischievous smile. “When I went downstairs to call for tea, I eavesdropped. And if it makes you feel any better, the man sounded utterly miserable.”

Penelope clenched her hands together. “His coming here does give me some hope. But how can I trust anything he ever says again? I believed him when he behaved like my friend, or when he pretended to be the secret lover in the dark. But those things were an illusion. So how will I ever know what is real?”

“Are you sure they were an illusion?” her sister asked.

Penelope pondered that. Jeremy had wanted her. That she knew was real. As for his friendship…well, that wasn’t as clear.

Jeremy had been trying to manipulate her by taking her on his “tour,” however the moments they’d shared during their time together were another story. He had confessed some painful parts of his past to her. Things she imagined were not readily shared.

And, after all, he hadn’t used her confessions, her desires, against her, as he had planned.

“I don’t know anymore.”

Miranda touched her hand gently. “Jeremy will come back. Perhaps not today. But I don’t think he’s the kind of man who will simply let you go. Allow him to come to you. Let him speak. Look into his eyes. He won’t be able to hide the truth from you if you do.”

“And when I have the truth?” Penelope asked. “What do I do then?”

“Only you can decide that,” her sister said. “But dear God, Penelope, don’t throw love away. If it is there, then take it. No one deserves it more.”

Penelope got to her feet. “I have much to think about.”

“You do,” her sister agreed. “So go home and think. I will be here if you need me.”

“I know.” Penelope hugged her, hard. “You have always been here for me. I was just too stubborn to take your love.”

Miranda smiled sadly as she linked her arm through Penelope’s. “Just don’t be too stubborn to take his.”

The Worthington Club was crowded as Jeremy and Ethan made their way to the private room in the back. As they entered the room, Jeremy drew in a harsh breath. This was not something he relished, but it had to be done.

For a variety of reasons.

Wharton was alone in the room, smoking a cigar, and he turned as the two men walked through the door.

“Didn’t expect to see you again after your little scene a few
days ago,” he growled. “And what are you doing here, Rothschild? Decided to join the Nevers, have you?”

Rothschild chuckled, but it wasn’t a friendly sound. “Not exactly.”

“We’ve come here to speak to you about Fiona,” Jeremy said through clenched teeth.

His friend lifted his gaze slowly, and the muscle in his cheek twitched. “What about the little whore?”

“Watch yourself,” Rothschild said softly.

Jeremy stepped forward. “I know what you did to her while she was under your ‘protection,’ Wharton.”

“What did I do?” his friend said, almost innocently. “You mean bring her in line when she acted up? That was my bloody right, what do you care?”

Jeremy reached out and caught his friend by the cravat. With a twist, he yanked him forward, nearly cutting off his air. Wharton’s cigar fell to the floor, and Jeremy ground it out with his heel.

“Listen to me, you bastard,” Jeremy said softly. “There are things a gentleman does and does not do. Beating a woman is one of the things in the latter column. Only a weak, small-pricked ass raises his hand to someone who cannot defend herself.”

Wharton was turning purple, so Jeremy let him go. His friend hit the ground, bouncing back a bit as he gasped for air for a second time in as many days. He glared up at Jeremy.

“What, so now you are noble?” he hissed. “You aren’t a saint, Kilgrath. And if I remember correctly, neither are you, Rothschild. Kilgrath, you’ve been planning to blackmail that shrew Penelope Norman by fucking her. And Rothschild, everyone has guessed that you made your wife a whore before you married—”

He didn’t get to finish the sentence before Rothschild stepped forward and kicked the man as hard as he could in the ribs without even flinching. He crouched down next to Wharton as the other man gasped for air.

“Another word about my wife and we’ll be dealing with pistols tomorrow morning. And I am an excellent shot.”

Wharton paled and clutched his ribs silently.

Ethan stood back up and motioned Jeremy forward with a tight smile. Jeremy yanked Wharton up, taking some small pleasure in the groan of utter pain that escaped his friend’s lips.

“Wharton, you are the third son of an earl. You have some prestige and some power, but it is nothing compared to what Rothschild and I wield. I think you know that I could destroy you, as could he, without much more than a raised finger.” He smoothed Wharton’s jacket with a thin smile. “So here is how your life is going to be from this moment on. You will
never
look at Fiona Clifton again. You will never speak to her. You’ll certainly never threaten her, or you will suffer greater than any cowardly thing you ever did to her.”

Wharton nodded slowly.

“As for Penelope, you will forget your ever heard her name. If you breathe a word about the bargain we made to stop her, if you do anything yourself to silence her, I will do things to you that will make you wish I had killed you.” Jeremy smiled thinly. “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Wharton said. All the blood was gone from his cheeks, and he shook like a leaf.

Jeremy released him. “As for us, we are not friends. We will never be friends again. You are no longer welcome in this club.”

“You can’t stop me from—” Wharton began.

“Yes, I can,” Jeremy interrupted. “And I will. Now get out. And if I ever hear that you have lain a finger on another woman again, the brimstone of hell will seem pleasant.”

Wharton backed toward the door, then turned and ran from the room. Jeremy watched him go with a frown. Now it was finished. The life he had once known was over. And the future was hazy.

Ethan clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Look, your friend left some of his fine cigars. Care for one?”

Jeremy laughed as he looked at the box Wharton had left behind. “Yes.”

Ethan handed one to him and smiled as he lit his own. “You may not be a total loss, after all, Kilgrath.”

“Really?” Jeremy said as he let the flame dance over the end of the cigar. “I feel like a loss. Or at a loss, at the very least.”

“Well, what you did tonight, it makes the past fade a little,” Ethan said as he sat down in one of the plush leather chairs.

Jeremy shook his head. “Tell Penelope that.” He stopped. “No. Don’t tell her.”

Ethan cocked his head in surprise. “No?”

“No.” He sighed. “I don’t deserve any consideration she isn’t willing to give me herself. What I did tonight was right. I don’t want it to be a mere show to make her speak to me. You were right when you said she needed time. I have taken everything else from her. The least I can do is allow her that.”