Page 28 of How to Court a Rake
Mary might have only partially guessed at the reference, but she fully understood what the woman wanted now. It was on the tip of her tongue to say, ‘Is that what he did to you?’ But she would not lower herself to this woman’s cattiness. This woman was here because she was jealous, because Caine had turned his sights away from her and she wanted them back.
‘I think you should go. This is an unseemly discussion.’ Mary summoned all her coolness to dismiss her. This woman was jealous and in that jealousy she was lashing out. She couldn’t possibly know how close her remarks came to the vulnerability Mary carried deep inside, the wounds those arrows threatened to reopen. Wasn’t that her greatest fear? That she was desired not for herself, but for what she brought to the table?
Lady Morestad waved her fan and made no move to leave. ‘I don’t mean to upset you, Lady Mary, just to warn you. He’s absolutely audacious in his pursuit and unrepentantly wicked in his conquest. That’s the part he enjoys most. Once he feels you’ve been conquered, he’s ready to move on.’ She gave Mary an assessing look. ‘Of course, as long as a woman understands what the arrangement is, he can be quite a pleasurable experience. Our poor husbands can’t compete and I do think a woman deserves one good lover in her lifetime.’
Mary fixed her gaze straight ahead as the musicians took the stage and began to tune up. ‘I am not for the conquering, Lady Morestad. Thank you, though, for the warning. I know what Caine Parkhurst is.’ But it hurt to hear it out loud, to see one of his lovers face to face and have to admit to the truths in her head—that what he’d done with her today, he’d done with countless women before and would do with countless women after her. She was simply here and now for him, the woman he was with at present.
Lady Morestad made a sound of false empathy. ‘He’s got you thinking, like every other woman he’s seduced, that this time it will be different, that you can change him, that you can make him stay. It’s a delicious fantasy and he plays the part so well. All that…’ Her gaze strayed to a point over Mary’s shoulder and a hungry, predatory light shone in her blue eyes. ‘Well, wonder of all wonders, the Marquess of Barrow at a musicale.’
Mary turned, her heart leaping at the sight of Caine in his usual black evening attire, tousled hair combed into temporary submission, a round diamond pin winking as it held his cravat in place. His dark eyes had never looked so dashing or so dangerous as he bowed. ‘Ladies, good evening. You both look lovely.’ Mary didn’tfeellovely in her soft rose-coloured silk next to the elegance of Lady Morestad’s blue and silver silk. She felt young and untried despite knowing that to not be quite the truth. But it was on her that Caine’s eyes lingered.
‘I’d ask to what we owe the honour of your attendance, Barrow, but I understand the attraction of the musicale better now, I think,’ Lady Morestad said coyly. ‘There are new pigeons for you to pluck now that you’re a marquess.’ At her words, Caine’s gaze shifted to Lady Morestad, perhaps the response Lady Morestad had intended, but the gaze that passed between them was ladened with daggers and just as sharp. This was the way former lovers who’d parted badly looked at one another. Mary was distinctly uncomfortable.
‘If there’s anyone who knows about plucking pigeons, it would be you, Lady Morestad. I bow to your experience,’ Caine replied smoothly. ‘Lady Mary, I have seats in the back near the door where it is cooler. Perhaps you would join me?’
Amesbury chose that moment to make his appearance, too late to be of any use in fending off Lady Morestad’s indecent conversation, but in plenty of time to exchange strong glances with Caine. ‘Lemonade, my dear.’ He handed her a sweating silver cup with an overt show of proprietorship in the gesture. Mary’s temper flared. He did not own her. Not yet. ‘Barrow, perhaps you might share your seats with Lady Morestad.’
Lady Morestad beamed. ‘What a splendid idea. I would love a seat,’ she said smoothly, offering Caine her gloved hand as the Italian soprano took the stage and a little bell rang calling everyone to attention as Mary’s mother mounted the dais to make introductions.
‘I hope you didn’t have to suffer the two of them unduly. The refreshment table was a battleground on account of the heat,’ Amesbury groused as he settled into his seat. ‘Good riddance to Barrow and Lady Morestad. I haven’t the foggiest idea why she’d want to talk with you. I’ll have a word with her and let her know the association isn’t appreciated. She won’t bother you again. I was afraid we might be stuck with them for the duration. They’re both odious. They deserve each other.’
That was very much what Mary was afraid of—that this was what her life would be like, with Amesbury picking her friends and deciding who she could and couldn’t speak with. As the soprano began, Mary fought the urge to look back at Caine and Lady Morestad to ensure they were in their seats. She would never be able to explain such a glance to Amesbury. But when she and Amesbury walked past their seats at the intermission, Amesbury whispering that he wanted to go somewhere and talk, the seats were empty. Her heart sank, each and every verbal arrow shot by Lady Morestad finding their target. The very real fear rose that Caine and Lady Morestad were indeed, off somewhere, ‘deserving’ one another, and she with her inexperience was already forgotten.
Chapter Fifteen
Mary had forgotten the cardinal rule for any young unmarried lady at an entertainment: never be alone with a man. Perhaps it was because the entertainment was in her own home or perhaps, and more likely the case, she was too caught up in her own head about Caine and Lady Morestad. Whatever the reason, she found herself with Amesbury in a sitting room at the back of the house.
‘Your mother has excellent attendance tonight,’ Amesbury said, stopping at the sideboard to help himself to her father’s brandy. He didn’t offer her any. He turned, tumbler in hand. ‘But a crush can be wearying. I find it is difficult to have a decent conversation or an extended one of any quality. I want to have such a conversation with you tonight, Mary.’ He nodded towards a chair. ‘Won’t you sit, my dear?’
Mary shook her head. She would meet her fate standing up. She would not relinquish any source of power she had and right now that might only be her height. She would not let Amesbury tower over her, as he proposed. He did not strike her as an on his knees sort of fellow. Certainly, that was where this conversation was heading. It wasn’t going to be a conversation at all.
‘As you prefer, my dear.’ Amesbury smiled, teeth gleaming. He reminded her of a sleek, blond tiger and he was stalking her. ‘Let me begin by saying, you are a treasure, Lady Mary. In the time we’ve recently had together, I’ve come to the conclusion that you are indeed all that I hoped you’d be. You are exactly the sort of woman I need by my side. I’ve never been in society until now, I know no one, but you do and that will pave my path going forward.’
Mary’s heart was in her throat. How could she put him off? Her best strategy, perhaps her only strategy, would be polite belaying. ‘You flatter me, Your Grace. Perhaps it is too soon to make these decisions. I hardly know you and that is true for you as well. You do not know me outside of a few balls and a couple of at-home calls. I would like for us to have time to know one another better.’
Amesbury seemed to give the suggestion some thought and for a moment she dared to hope her ploy had been successful. ‘What is there to know? I’ve been on the Continent, conducting family business.’ He gave a laugh. ‘You know, the sort of business a great family tasks its less important relatives with. Minion work, I call it. Nothing exciting enough to tell you about, my dear. And then the mail caught up with me to inform me that I’d inherited. I do agree with you, if the circumstances were different, time together would be ideal. But we both know time is of the essence. Your family is eager to see you wed and I have my own exigencies given the sparsity of males in the Amesbury line. It suits me to wed sooner than later.’
He stepped towards her, a hand raised to stroke her cheek. She clenched her jaw against his touch. ‘You tremble, Lady Mary.’ His tones were deceptively silky. ‘Is it because you’re such an innocent? Or because you are thinking of another’s touch?’
‘If I tremble, Your Grace, it is because it is too great of an intimacy between strangers.’ Mary didn’t bother to disguise the contempt in her voice. ‘As you say, you are new come to society—perhaps you need a refresher on the rules. We should not be alone. You should not touch me in such a familiar way. You are to treat me as a lady, not as a possession.’
He gave a cold chuckle and stepped back, his eyes a blue steel, hard and unforgiving. ‘You have some fire to you, Lady Mary. It will be a pleasure to tame you to my hand. I think it is you who need reminding of the rules of this particular game, however.’ His tone was chilling.
Taming. As if she were an animal on par with his hound or his horse. Mary swallowed and took a breath to calm herself, aware of just how quiet, just how alone they were. One could barely hear the drawing room crowd from here. ‘You speak as if we have an understanding but you and I do not. We have never even spoken of one. You have intimated only that you have chosen a wife.’ She was fencing with words now and they were a dull blade indeed.
He gave her a look that sent a shiver down her spine. ‘Dear Mary, I thought the nuance of our exchange that evening was clear. The woman I have chosen is you.’ He gave a low laugh.
‘ButIhave not chosenyou. I have not consented, nor have I been asked.’ She was feeling trapped. Amesbury stood between her and the door, the fireplace was at her back. Too bad the andirons were on the other side. A poker would come in handy just now.
‘You do not need to choose, Mary. Your father has consented on your behalf.’ He gave an evil, smug smile, his voice conversationally matter of fact. ‘You are mine, Mary. Your father and I finalised it earlier this evening. Your mother would like to announce the engagement tonight at the end of the musicale and we will wed as soon as possible.’ He reached a hand once more to stroke her cheek. ‘So, you see, your rules are satisfied. No one will care if we’re alone and it is perfectly respectable for me to touch you like this, or even in other ways should I desire it, since we are to be wed.’
‘I won’t marry you.’ Mary wondered if she could push past him, if he would let her go. If she could get out of the room, she could run, back to the entertainment, the light, the crowds. Until then, she was on her own.
Amesbury offered a look of feigned perplexity. ‘You would shame your father? Ruin your family?’ He gave a harsh laugh and she knew she was seeing the totality of Amesbury for the first time. He was not merely arrogant and obtuse in his privilege, but cruel as well. ‘You cannot refuse, even if you had the legal right to do so.Youare his payment, Mary.’
He gave a sigh, more play-acting in his tone of false sincerity. ‘I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, that we wouldn’t start our married lives with this knowledge hanging over us. I had wanted this proposal to be nice for you. Every girl wants to remember the moment a man chooses her.’ He shook his head and her disgust with him grew. She had to escape this room. ‘But you’ve made me say hard things, Mary. Your father owes me a debt he cannot pay. He hovers on penury, but I have generously offered to take you instead of currency to settle that debt.’
‘You lie!’ Mary spat at him. Her world reeled with the revelation. Surely that could not be true? An earl could not be impoverished. Her father, upstanding to his core, could not be in league with a man as disreputable as the one who stood before her. ‘You speak filth! I will not stay in this room a moment longer. I will go to my father.’
