Tainted Bride (11 page)

“Were you not a partner to her father?” Thomas asked. “I seem to remember hearing that your partnership ended poorly not many years ago.”

Pundington waved off the comment. “An amicable split after many years together. We both made a tidy sum, I might add.”

There was another round of betting.

“You’re not after the chit, are you, Wheel? I would advise against it if you want to be sure your heirs are your own.” Pundington smirked and asked for a card.

Daniel was quiet adept at keeping his feelings to himself. His gut twisted and he burned with the desire to unleash his rage on Pundington and everyone else at the table.

“You go too far, Pundington. I suggest you say no more about the lady or I’ll take offence.” Thomas spoke through clenched teeth.

Alistair looked up as if surprised that anyone should care about the subject. “No need to get out of sorts, boy. I had the girl myself. Not as if I’m telling stories out of school.”

All four men stared at Alistair.

It was too much. How had Daniel let this happen again? He tossed his cards on the table, resisted the urge to throw furniture, and strode from the club.

* * * *

Miles called after, “Marlton, your winnings.”

But Daniel either didn’t hear him or didn’t care.

Thomas stood. He looked at the footman standing nearby. “Collect his lordship’s winnings.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Mr. Pundington, I strongly suggest what you have just said is fiction. I have no idea why you would slander a lady’s reputation, but I will not have it. If I hear that you have spread this rumor beyond this table, I shall call you out. Do I make myself clear?”

Pundington raised his dark eyebrows. “Perfectly.” His voice was even and perhaps slightly amused.

Thomas picked up his own winnings and turned to leave, but then turned back. “If you ever call me ‘boy’ again, I’ll run you through without the delicacy of a proper duel.”

His own temper raged but he knew Daniel well enough to know that the Earl of Marlton was dangerously angry. He left the club and had his man drive him to Daniel’s home. Entering the small townhouse, he gave the parlor door a push. “You left in a hurry, old friend.”

“I’m in no mood for company, Tom.” Daniel threw back a glass of whisky.

Thomas poured himself a glass. “Do not believe that old goat. Sophia is a wonderful girl and not capable of what he implied. Besides, she looked terrified of the bastard when she saw him at your house.”

“Terrified because she thought he would disclose her secrets.” He drank another glass in one swallow.

“It’s sour grapes I tell you. There was a falling out between Pundington and her father. They had a long time partnership that ended. This is all fiction.”

Daniel smiled, but there was nothing nice about it. The hate in his eyes filled the room. “You can believe any fairy tale you like, Tom. The lady means nothing to me and so any rumors about her virtue are irrelevant.”

“Yes, I can see by the way you are enjoying your fine whisky that you do not care.”

“Take your sarcasm and yourself and go somewhere else. I have had enough for one night.” Daniel’s capacity for blindness was beyond good sense. He was blind.

Shaking Daniel would do no good, so Thomas bowed more deeply than was necessary. “As you wish, my lord.”

* * * *

Daniel downed another glass of whisky and then threw the fine crystal goblet across the room, where it smashed against the door, sending shards in a spectacular starburst. He then lost his balance and fell to the oriental carpet with a rather loud thud.

That is where his valet found him a few minutes later. And that is where he left his lordship until the next morning when he woke him by throwing open the heavy curtains. “Good morning, my lord. Beautiful day.”

Daniel felt as if an elephant had run across his head. He pushed himself from the floor and squinted against the bright sunlight streaming in the tall windows and glaring off all the fine wood paneling of his parlor. Perhaps he would fire the maid who’d polished the wood. “Close those damned blinds, Sutter.”

The valet picked Daniel’s coat up off the chair and shook it out. “I have taken the liberty of having your breakfast brought in here. I thought you might need a bit of food after the whisky ran out last night.”

“You are an impertinent sod, Sutter.”

“Indeed, my lord.”

Daniel stumbled then sat on the dark brown couch. The tray of food made his stomach turn. He picked up the coffee and took a sip. His head cleared and the events of the previous evening came rushing back to him.

A maid cleaned the glass from the doorway and another was wiping down the door and polishing the wood where his whisky glass had struck.

Daniel silently cursed himself for a fool. She means nothing. She was nobody, the daughter of an American businessman, nothing more. Not even worth the price of the broken glass.

Standing a bit too quickly, he held his head until the room stopped spinning. He ambled to the desk, scribbled a note, folded it and handed it to his valet. What did he care about a cheap little piece of skirt from America?

“Sutter, have this message delivered and have the messenger wait for a response. Then have a bath drawn for me and I would like to wear my green jacket.”

“Yes, my lord.” The valet’s answer was stoic as always.

* * * *

The next morning, Sophia had not yet finished her toilette when Aunt Daphne burst into her room without knocking.

“What is the meaning of this?” Lady Collington narrowed her eyes to fierce points directed at Sophia as she threw down the morning paper. Several hairpins scattered and tinkled to the floor.

Sophia gasped but managed, with shaking hands, to pick up the paper and read the article.

This reporter is astonished to learn, a certain Miss B who is recently in London is not nearly as innocent as she appears. She had us all fooled, even Lord M and Mr. W.

“Marie, would you excuse us?”

The maid left the room quietly, closing the door behind her.

“Well?”

Sophia took a deep breath. “Alistair Pundington.”

“What about him? Heinous man. I never understood why your father did business with him.”

Sophia stood. “Please sit down, Aunt. It is a long story and I don’t think I’ll be able to get through it if you’re hovering over me.”

Daphne’s expression softened marginally, her pursed lips relaxed and she sat in the vanity chair Sophia had just vacated.

Sophia’s hands shook and she clutched them in front of her. She supposed it was always only a matter of time once Pundington saw her at the Fallon Ball. “Alistair Pundington and my father attended Eton together. He was best man at my parents’ wedding. Whenever he was in Philadelphia, he stayed at our house. Anthony and I called him Uncle Alistair. I debuted after I turned sixteen and Uncle Alistair visited shortly thereafter. He was different on this visit, and I couldn’t say why. One night, I said goodnight to mamma and papa and made my way through the hallway to go up to my bed when I was grabbed from behind and dragged into my father’s study.”

Lady Collington gasped and covered her mouth.

Sophia took a deep breath and wiped away the tear rolling down her cheek. She trembled and sat on the edge of the bed. “I tried to scream, but a large hand that smelled of cigar smoke covered my face, cutting off all air. I kicked and struggled, but to no affect. It was a few seconds before I realized it was the man I called Uncle, a man I had known my entire life. He hit me and tore my dress. I smelled whisky on his breath.” She gulped in air the way she had that night. There was more to tell and Aunt Daphne deserved to know the truth. Her body shook with the memory, but she needed Daphne to understand. Sophia desperately wanted one family member to know what she suffered and not blame her for that terrible night.

She pushed the words from her mouth. “He violated me. I was bruised, battered and bloody when my parents came in and found me lying on the floor unable to speak or even cry.

“Father beat Pundington to a pulp and when he dared call the next day to ask for my hand, father beat him again. Mother just held me and cried. I didn’t cry then. My heart was dead and no tears would come.”

Sophia took another breath and wiped both her cheeks dry. “I didn’t want to partake of the Philadelphia season after that and for the first year my parents understood. The following year they were less understanding and then last year they became quite insistent I look for a suitable husband. I refused. So, they foisted me on you, dear Aunt Daphne and I still cannot avoid the stain of that night. I’m so sorry to be such an utter disappointment. I did so want to make you proud.” Sophia dashed away more tears she wished she could stop from falling.

Daphne stood looking a bit pale. She walked to the bed and sat next to Sophia. “Sophia, I wish your parents had informed me. I did not even know Pundington was in London. I had heard he and your father were no longer in business and he was on the continent. With all the trouble in France, he has probably just arrived. I did not see him at Lady Marlton’s ball.”

“He was there,” Sophia said.

“This must be vengeance for declining his offer of marriage. At least your father had the good sense not to accept him. Some would have taken the easy way out.”

Sophia shuddered. “I would have killed myself.”

Daphne patted her knee. “Well, thank goodness it did not come to that.”

“I’m sorry, Aunt. I know you planned for me to find a husband and with this report in the paper, it will be impossible.” In spite of the stain on her name, relief came with the report. Sophia would not be subject to any offers of marriage now.

“Nonsense,” Daphne said. “More difficult perhaps, but definitely not impossible.”

Sophia sighed.

Daphne stood with her hands on her hips. “Sophia, you do not have to marry.”

“I don’t?”

Daphne shook her head. “No. If you choose to remain unmarried, you can be my companion here in England. When I die, I shall leave you a small fortune with which you shall be able to live comfortably for the rest of your life. I have a bit of money left to me from my mother’s side and a small cottage, which is not part of the Collington estate. It is not entailed and shall be yours if you wish. I’m also quite certain in spite of your parents’ wishes for you to marry, your father would settle an amount on you should you decide a life of solitude suits you.”

The breath Sophia had held for three years gushed from her and she relaxed for the first time. Her muscles ached from the strain. Her heart filled her throat and a new batch of tears threatened. Sophia held them back not wanting to spoil the moment with crying. She stood and hugged her. “Thank you, Aunt.”

“I do, however, expect you to finish the season. We will not let that horrible monster ruin us for society. We shall go to the theatre tonight as planned and you will hold your head up and look everyone directly in the eye. We will not let him win. Do you hear me, girl?” Daphne’s voice filled with passion. “What that man did to you is a crime. Society may not see it that way and people prefer to brush these things under the rug, but that does not keep him from being a criminal. We shall not let a criminal rule our lives for even one evening.”

Some of her elation slipped away. Sophia was not as enthusiastic. “As you wish, Aunt Daphne.”

“I’ll not be cowed by that devil and neither shall you.”

“Yes.” Her voice was just audible. Still, all she need do was to get through the season and there would be no more talk of marriage. Euphoria settled over her making her lightheaded.

Daphne sat and took Sophia’s hand. “But you know, Sophia, if you do not marry, you will have no children. Are you sure that is what you want?”

That weighed heavy on her. Never to know the love of a baby and watch him grow to a young man or woman. Never to have someone call her mother. She pictured a little boy with Daniel’s eyes staring up from a cradle. She shook off the idea. “I don’t see how I can marry. I cannot bear the idea of any man touching me.”

With her lips pursed as if she tasted something sour, Daphne scanned the room before settling her gaze back on Sophia. “It is a difficult subject, what happens between married people.”

“I suppose so.”

“But this is not the time to be squeamish.”

“I didn’t think I was so.” Sophia almost laughed.

“Not you, dear, me. My marriage was arranged by my father, but your great uncle was a good man and we had a fine marriage and so I feel confident in telling you that your experience was not normal.” She looked out the window then brushed out her skirts. “If you should like to marry and have a family, your husband would be kind to you.”

“How do you know?” Sophia didn’t know where to look. Not even her mother had broached this subject and now she could see why.

“I certainly would find you a kind and caring husband, perhaps even someone who was affectionate toward you.”

Daniel had been affectionate, yet she still ran terrified from him. “I will give it some thought, Aunt Daphne.”

“Good.” Daphne stood. “You may come down for breakfast and then I would suggest you rest until it is time to get ready for the evening. I’m sure this has been exhausting for you.”

As she left the room, she bumped into Sophia’s maid. “Very loyal, Marie.”

“Yes, milady.” Marie curtsied and Lady Collington stalked down the hall.

At the theatre, there was nowhere to turn without bumping into someone. Sophia had endured being squeezed into a corset and having her hair curled and twisted. The effect was stunning. Her dark hair shone and the gold gown was exquisite. She looked much more assured than she felt. However, she’d promised her aunt and herself to keep her feelings neatly tucked away. As they sauntered toward the Collington box, she smiled and nodded and looked everyone full on. She made a special effort to ignore the people whispering behind their hands.

When Lady Pemberhamble smirked, she walked over to the pinched-mouthed gossip. “How do you do this evening, Lady Pemberhamble? I think this is going to be a singular evening, don’t you?”