The Fallen Woman (A Regency Romance) (6 page)

Leona didn’t know what to say. What could she say? Even if she objected to her father’s idea, what other choice did she have? If she took a gamble on the viscount, wouldn’t it be better than staying locked in her room, bearing her father’s consternation for the rest of her life? Even if her child was conceived in a moment of foolish lust, didn’t it deserve a chance? To have a fallen woman as a mother would be a poor start for any child, and a viscount would be a far better father than some uncaring, unnamed cad.

“Alright, father,” Leona answered with a sigh. “When is my husband… to be expected?”

Chapter Seven

Andrew was completely and utterly gobsmacked. “
Leona Lennox
? Are you sure about that, old chap? You haven’t got the name wrong?”

The viscount’s valet held out a coat, and Tristan slipped his arms through the sleeves. “Yes. Leona Lennox,” he simply replied.

“Are you sure we’re talking about the same girl?
The
Leona Lennox? The Leona Lennox I’m thinking of has an entire army of beaux at her disposal.”

“I can’t imagine there are too many Leona Lennoxes,” Tristan added thoughtfully.

“You arranged the whole thing with her father? I s’pose he must’ve gotten tired of waiting for her to choose. That sort of thing happens now and again. A father wants to marry off his daughter, but she’s being too picky…” Andrew took a puff from his cigar, and finished his glass of port.

“You know, you shouldn’t smoke those things around me. They might have some sort of effect on my delicate organs,” Tristan said.

But his friend ignored him. “I can’t believe you’re marrying Leona Lennox. What do you know about her?”

“Well… she’s pretty,” the viscount offered with a smirk.

“That doesn’t even begin to describe her. This girl has so many admirers, she should have a shrine in Greece… next to the goddess Aphrodite! I never pursued her myself, but I know several men who have. How’d you do it? How’d you decimate your competition so quickly?”

“They’re better men than me, I’m sure. I simply got lucky. Her father was an old friend of my father, and he was looking for a suitable husband. Everything was very timely.”

“Yes… well…”
Except your dying.
Andrew didn’t want to sound insensitive, so he kept his thought to himself. There was nothing less timely his impending death, which was surely a constant thorn in Tristan’s side. He didn’t need to be reminded of it. “Wow. I can’t believe you’re really getting married. It seems like only yesterday we were expressing our aversion to married life.”

“Needless the say, the circumstances…
my
circumstances… have changed. I only hope the girl’s wishes aren’t so vastly different from her father’s. I’d hate for her to resent me.” Tristan lowered his head, ashamed of himself. He knew nothing of the girl’s consent. What if marrying him was the last thing she wanted to do? How could he ever forgive himself if he became the cause of her unhappiness?

Tristan wondered if he should tell the girl’s father the truth about his situation. He didn’t have long to live, but how was he supposed to mention such a thing?

Andrew gently laid his glass on the table and flicked the ashes from his cigar into a small dish. “So, you’ll have me go with you, of course?”

“No.” Tristan’s refusal was adamant. “I don’t mean to sound cold, but no. This is something I must do alone.”

There was a pained expression on Andrew’s face.

“As much as I appreciate your concern for my personal affairs, you mustn’t come with me.” Tristan’s valet, John, handed him a walking stick. It was more than a decoration these days. He needed to lean on it. “I’m afraid my fiancé would take one look at me, one look at you, and realize what a poor match her father made for her.”

* * *

“Father…” Leona peered through the window, trying to steal a glimpse of her fiancé as he alighted from the carriage. “You never told me he walked with a cane. Is he limping?”

“What?” Mr. Lennox nudged his daughter out of the way, stealing her view. “I don’t remember him being some sort of invalid. Well, I suppose it’s been about five years since I’ve seen him. Maybe he’s had some sort of accident.”

“Or maybe it’s just a walking stick? Gentlemen carry those.”

“Well, whatever it is, it looks like he’s using it as a cane,” Mr. Lennox added lazily.

“Such a fancy carriage!” Leona observed. “I suppose that makes sense. He is, after all, a viscount.”

“Hmm. Well, I don’t think his pockets are as vast as they could be, but he’s the best I could arrange in a short amount of time. He’s rich enough.”

Leona tried to reclaim the view of her fiancé, but her father refused to budge from the window. “He’s not so bad. I was expecting him to look like some kind of ogre. He’s not what I’d call handsome, but he has a nice face.”

Mr. Lennox gave his daughter another gentle shove. “He’s coming, Leona. Go upstairs. Give us gentlemen a chance to chat, will you? I’m sure there are some final arrangements that need to be made.”

Turning toward the stairs, Leona quietly countered, “you make it sound like you’re selling a horse.”

If he heard his daughter’s remark, Mr. Lennox ignored her. He barked some quick orders to the butler and hurried to the nearest sitting room, awaiting the viscount’s arrival. Mr. Lennox tried to hide the anticipation from his face. He needed to get his daughter off his hands as quickly as possible. If his plan didn’t work, everyone would know what sort of daughter he had. His friends would shun him! He’d be blacklisted at his favorite clubs! He couldn’t stand for that, could he?

A few minutes later, the butler announced “Lord Randall to see you, sir,” and ushered a tall, gaunt-cheeked man into the room.

“Good evening, my lord,” Mr. Lennox greeted the viscount, hopping to his feet. Tall and lean, Lord Randall towered above him. He was a slightly intimidating figure to a stout, portly man like Mr. Lennox. “Or… uh… it’s rather like good
morning
, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Lord Randall agreed, his thin lips twitching into a smile. “I hope you are well.”

“Very well, sir. How was your journey?”

“Short,” the viscount answered with a chuckle. “At present, I’m still living in London. My townhouse isn’t too far from here, actually. But… as I said in my letter, I have plans to move to Berkshire as soon as I marry your daughter.”

“Yes. Very good.”
Out of sight, out of mind
, Mr. Lennox mused.

“Is that her, sir?” As he spoke, Tristan nodded in the direction of a portrait on the wall.

“Ah, yes. That’s my Leona. Of course, she was a bit younger when she sat for that portrait.”

“She looks beautiful. She’s… just as I remember her.” As Tristan stared at the picture of the angelic beauty, her image tugged at his heartstrings. He hadn’t even met her face-to-face, and he was already feeling like a villain. He wondered if it would be impossible to look into the eyes of that beautiful creature and lie to her. How would she react if she knew he didn’t have long to live?

How would her father react?

“So… right… the wedding.” Mr. Lennox rubbed the palms of his hands together, looking sinister as he did. “Let’s not waste any time, shall we? Would you like a cigar? A brandy?” He opened up a box of cigars and withdrew one for himself.

“No. I really shouldn’t.”

“Very well. So, we both expressed a desire to arrange a wedding soon.
Very
soon. Is there any reason why we shouldn’t schedule it as early as… next week?”

“That would suit me fine, Mr. Lennox. But there’s something I must tell you.”

The older man didn’t hear a word he said. It was like Mr. Lennox was in a trance. “I thought about announcing the engagement in the paper, but… honestly, I don’t want a lot of people turning up. I think it would be better if we kept this between friends and family.”

In Mr. Lennox’s mind, that list included himself, Leona, Lord Randall and Leona’s maid. Anyone else might suspect he was patching up a scandal with a quick marriage.

Which, of course, he was.

“Mr. Lennox,” Tristan tried again. “I have something
very
important to tell you. I hope it doesn’t affect your decision to offer your daughter’s hand in marriage. If it does, I won’t hold it against you. I would understand any reservation on your part.”

Mr. Lennox shook his head. His mouth was hanging open, so his lower lip shook like a hound dog’s jowls. “What is it?”

Tristan gripped his walking stick and closed his eyes. If Mr. Lennox changed his mind, he didn’t know what he would do. It was serendipitous that his father’s old friend was looking to arrange a match for his daughter. Another stroke of luck was unlikely. “I’ve been told I don’t have very long to live.”

“Whaaa?” The older man’s eyes were bulging.

“I have a heart condition. I’m afraid it will limit me to a few more years, at best. I hope this explains my desire to marry quickly. I… need a wife. I don’t want to be alone when I come to the end of my days. I can’t think of anything more dreadful than having no one at my bedside.” Tristan lowered his eyes; he didn’t want to see the other man’s expression. Would it be shock? Disgust? “I shouldn’t have assumed you would be willing to marry off your daughter to an invalid. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Well…” Mr. Lennox cleared his throat before he spoke. “I’m very sorry to hear that, my lord.”

Several moments of silence fell on the room. Tristan wondered if he was a fool for being honest. He wondered if he would be turned away without even a glimpse of the girl who would have been his wife.

“We had an arrangement,” Mr. Lennox finally spoke up, “and I see no reason why we should break it.”

Relief fell on him like an anvil. “Really, sir? That’s wonderful!”

“I’m sure you would make my daughter a fine husband… never mind how much time you have left.”

Tristan blinked several times. “I can’t believe how understanding you are, sir! May I ask you to be understanding about something else as well?” When Mr. Lennox nodded, he continued. “I would like to tell your daughter myself, if I could. After we’re married… I’d like to be the one to tell her.”

“Ah, yes. Of course. You should definitely be the one to tell her, I think.” Mr. Lennox felt his lips elongating, twisting into a grin. The viscount’s impending death was perhaps the best news he could have hoped for. “Now… I must go fetch my daughter. It’s about time she met her future husband, don’t you think?”

Chapter Eight

Leona wasn’t listening to her father. Her eventual meeting with Lord Randall was consuming her thoughts. Her life was changing at such a drastic pace, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. In a few days’ time, she would leave her father and go to live with a husband she did not know. She didn’t mind leaving her father, but…
a husband
! The thought made her stomach quake.

So did the thought of a baby. Lord Wintergreen’s baby. If her father had his way, she was supposed to lie to this new man. How wicked had she allowed herself to become?

“So, Leona…” Her father was grinning again. It was his usual, devious, gum-baring grin. “What do you think about everything I’ve just told you?”

“I’m sorry, Father. I’m afraid I… I’m afraid I wasn’t paying attention.”

“
Not
paying attention? Don’t you realize that what I’m saying concerns you more than it concerns anyone else? And you can’t trouble yourself to pay attention? I’ve worked out everything for you… everything is perfect! The least you could do is show a little gratitude.”

“
I’m sorry, Father
,” Leona repeated through clenched teeth.

“It’s the greatest news we could ask for, really. The man is dying!”

Leona’s head tilted. “Who is dying?”

“Good God, you really listened to none of it? Lord Randall is dying, girl! He’s ill! And he ain’t got long to live!”

“Are you serious? You’re marrying me off to a dying man?” Crossing her arms over her chest, Leona stared blankly at her father. “Do you care to explain why this news of my fiancé’s condition should make me happy?”

“I can’t believe I have to explain
everything
to you, Leona. Your mother always thought you were such a clever girl…” Mr. Lennox sighed. “The fact that Lord Randall is dying is most advantageous. He wants to expedite everything as much, if not more, than we do! I’ve thrown a beautiful girl in his path, and he’s lapping it up. You could have him eating out of the palm of your hand.”

“Well…” Leona kept her arms crossed. “I guess I’m not as heartless as you are, Father. I will not rejoice at the prospect of losing my husband… though I suppose it would be in my best interest to dislike him as much as possible. I don’t want to get attached to him, only to lose him in… how long do you think he’ll live?”

“About a year or so, or something like that. Anyway, dear, he doesn’t seem like the sort of man you would get attached to.”

“Why do you say that?”

Her father didn’t honor her with an answer. Instead, he asked, “Do you remember the plan?”

“I know what you intend for me to do, Father, but I’d rather not recite it. It makes me feel like such a--”

Mr. Lennox interrupted and said, “you marry him, you bed him, and you make him think that bastard is his. If it all goes according to plan, your unborn son will be a viscount in a year or so!”