Page 51 of Courting Trouble
“Of course you don’t,” he snorted. “DoctorConleith has both made and spent an impressive and astonishing fortune on a bevy of new surgical schemes, or so I’ve gathered.”
“I know this already—”
“He’s still nobody, Honoria. He is nothing without his reputation as a surgeon and a man. He has no title to protect him, no lands to rely upon for income. His entire future is built upon the skill in his hands and the trust of his wealthy patients and patrons here.”
The weight of all that was pressing upon Titus’s shoulders became a heavy lead stone in her gut. Because she knew what her father’s next words would be. And the truth they contained threatened to extinguish the tiny flame of hope with which she’d awoken, and plunge her into a pit of despair.
“A relationship with you could taint him. You realize that, don’t you? You could ruin the success of any of his future endeavors. That’s how far and completely you have fallen.”
Her legs gave way as her father yanked the rug out from under them, and she landed on the velvet chair behind her.
Hard.
Cresthaven reached into the pocket of the mahogany vest that stretched over his impressive paunch and retrieved his watch to check the time.
As if he had somewhere more important to be.
“Your mother and I have discovered a way out of this debacle you’ve found yourself in.”
At that, her temper flared. “I didn’tfindmyself anywhere, Father. My husband tried to murder me. This was no fault of mine.”
He waved his hand in front of his face, as if dispelling an unpleasant scent or swatting away a fly.
“This past Sunday, I was approached by the Duke of Bellingham. Apparently, his second son, Mark, is in need of a wife, and they’re willing to take you on after the appropriate period of mourning. You’ll be married next summer in Devon, so… enjoy this little rendezvous while you can.”
“Take me on?” she echoed, aghast. “You’re mad if you think I’ll be impressed upon to marry again, Father; I barelysurvivedthe last one!”
He stepped forward, his threatening manner causing her to flinch away. Her father hadn’t been a heavy-handed parent, but he’d slapped them a few times if they’d provoked him enough.
“Think of someone other than yourself for once, Honoria,” he blustered, his chins vibrating with the violence of his unchecked disdain. “Mercy and Felicity are being treated abominably, shunned from society, and openly mocked. Their chances at decent marriages are effectively nil. Your mother is possibly on her deathbed with nervous conniptions, her heart growing weaker by the day. I’ve had to instruct the staff to hide the papers and the cordial from her. Business like mine is built on reputation, you daft girl. What do you think will happen to our wealth if our name is in tatters? You are not the only one who has suffered, but you’re the only one who can reclaim some semblance of our family’s honor in the wake of this disaster.”
Suddenly dizzy, Nora pressed her hand to her forehead, unable to tell if she were feverish, or if her hands were abnormally cold.
She should have known. She was aware of what thetondid to those who fell out of favor. Nothing that her father had imparted should have been news to her.
But her sisters had never let on their distress, hadn’t mentioned her mother’s condition. She’d been more than happy to stay cossetted in this tower like a damaged princess, forgetting that she wasn’t the only person in danger. That the ripples of her husband’s actions would affect the innocent, and that she had some responsibility to amend that.
She’d never really considered thatshecould become Titus’s ruin. Because he was such a strong and stalwart man. Capable and gifted and ruthless and resilient, she no more assumed she could cause him harm than a butterfly could destroy a lion.
But it was so much worse than that.
She could ruin him with her affection.
Again.
Was it some sort of curse? To have him for moments of bliss, only to have to choose between him and honor? Or to make him chose between her and ruination?
“Why would a Duke invite someone like me into his family?” she asked, kneading at her temple.
Her father’s gaze darted away, sliding a dagger of unease into her ribs. “He’s a victim of his own scandal. Mark was kept from prison only by the hand of his father, the Duke. He’s an invert, so he’s being forced to go into the church… being a vicar’s wife will do you some good, I think.”
“An invert.” She dropped her hand in surprise. “You mean, he prefers the romantic company of…men?”
“Evidently fell in love with some French actor. There are photographs.” Her father shuddered. “He’s reported to be nothing like William, thank God. A gentle sort of fellow, studious and dull.”
Honoria instantly felt a tug of pity for Mark.
If not for Titus, such an arrangement might suit her quite well. A kind man, one who wouldn’t make sexual demands of her. A quiet life in a country vicarage. She didn’t so much mind the idea of men being lovers, couldn’t understand why it was considered such a sin to begin with.
