Page 45 of Masquerading with the Duke
‘I fail to see that you have any choice in the matter,’ Jared said, feigning disinterest. ‘Believe me, if you destroy my name you will also destroy what’s left of hers; something that in your haste to shake me down you clearly failed to take into account. She suffered more than anyone when Father’s loyalties fell under suspicion. I believe she was cut by quite a few of her influential friends, losing considerable face, and has only slowly crawled her way back up the social ladder.’ Jared shook his head. ‘You haven’t thought this through at all, have you?’ he added placidly. ‘Your debts are debts of honour. Mother won’t be pleased, but she will understand the urgency.’ Jared flapped a hand. ‘Go to her, Arthur. If she then decides to discuss the matter with me she is welcome to call here. Alone,’ he added firmly. ‘And with no potential brides in tow.’
‘You will help?’ Arthur’s fleshy features came alive with hope.
‘It depends upon a number of things; most particularly your future behaviour.’ Jared stood and put his napkin aside, convinced by the conniving expression in Arthur’s eyes that they understood one another. But if he had already taken funds from Redrow, thereby committing himself to destroying Jared, would that be enough? ‘We have nothing more to say to one another, so I suggest you take yourself off. You will be able to reach London comfortably if you leave now.’
Chapter Thirteen
Martina felt the comforting protection of the Park and all its opulent splendour slowly eradicating the uncertainty and fear that she’d lived with for her entire life. It would be too easy to depend upon the duchess’s good nature and find reasons to remain here indefinitely. Not that she would do so and risk making herself a burden. Instead, she would take up her position with Lady Vincent at Stoneleigh Manor as soon as necessary and give the best possible service.
In the meantime, she would try to cast her worries aside and luxuriate in having nothing to do other than please herself. But the niggling fears that she had not seen the last of Redrow, with his wandering hands and quite disgustingly arrogant assumptions of ownership, caused a dull ache to settle in the pit of her stomach. As did thoughts of Jared and the problems he had with Redrow—problems that she was convinced he had not fully explained to her and which would cause irreparable damage to his reputation.
Something changed deep inside Martina as she pondered the problem. She was tired of being a victim, always afraid, never settled, never sure whom to trust. The time had come to make a stand against bullies and subversives, if only out of a sense of loyalty to her dead parents and missing brother. She couldn’t run scared her entire life, always depending upon Ariana to find a way out of their problems. She was a grown woman in her own right, and it was time to make a stand.
She lay in the bed she shared with Ariana, wide awake and restless yet still as a statue, not wanting to disturb her sister who had fallen asleep almost as soon as her head had hit the pillows. She owed Jared a very great deal. He had awoken feelings deep inside of her that she had never anticipated experiencing. She had learned to be too wary of men and their real intentions ever to let her guard down and allow herself to feel anything. She held Jared entirely to blame for the changes that had come over her quite without her permission. The sight of him emerging from the lake, water glistening on his muscular torso, had been…well, educational, sending her mind on a shockingly provocative detour.
The attraction had been instinctive—a woman reacting to a desirable man as nature intended—but she had been surprised when she’d sensed an answering interest on his part. She had assumed that he would be too worldly, too experienced, to take much notice of someone whom she distinctly recalled him referring to as a child. She sniffed contemptuously. A child, was she?
We’ll see about that.
Martina turned on her side, attempting to make sense of what it was that she felt for him. Admiration, certainly. Respect, absolutely. And she wasn’t totally immune to his imposing physical presence, either, to say nothing of his poise and charm. The manner in which he concentrated his entire attention upon her when speaking with her played havoc with her emotions, as did the infectiously wicked smiles he bestowed upon her when she said something to amuse him.
Martina realised that for the first time in her life she had let her guard down around a stranger. She felt safe in a situation fraught with danger because he was a gentleman to his fingertips. Martina might trust, admire and respect him, but her dim view of the male sex generally was deeply imbedded, shaped by the sights she had witnessed as a child. The debauchery on open display in a country brought to its knees by the poverty, bitterness and the abiding resentments that followed the war.
She had seen men and women rutting in the streets like dogs and shuddered at the memory. If that was passion, she wanted no part of it, which is why she would never marry, even supposing a suitable offer came her way. Nor would she subject herself to that type of behaviour outside matrimony, since she couldn’t envisage desire ever overcoming her sense of propriety. She fervently hoped that Lady Vincent would continue to have children so that there would be a need for her services for the next twenty years.
She fell asleep with her head full of images of Jared’s handsome features and smiling eyes, laughing with her; correcting her English, never supercilious. More determined than ever to find a way to help him, to help them both to be rid of the threat posed by the odious Redrow, she woke the next morning still with no clear idea how to go about it.
‘Good morning, dearest.’ Ariana sat up in bed and smiled at Martina. ‘We did not get a chance to talk before we retired last night. Did you enjoy the evening?’
‘Very much. But I still feel a little overwhelmed when the duchess insists upon treating us as though we are members of her family.’
‘Believe me, my love. If she didn’t want us at her table, we would not be invited to sit at it. She doesn’t look upon us as charity cases, if that’s what worries you.’ Ariana up kneeled on the bed. ‘Your Mr Braden seemed charming and attentive.’
‘He is not mine, Ariana.’ Martina sighed. ‘You know how I feel about men getting too close. I simply cannot trust their intentions.’ She didn’t add that being in close proximity to Jared engendered feelings that were far from intimidating, or that she didn’t doubthisintentions.
‘You will get over that, given time. Not all men are beasts.’
‘Do you speak from experience?’ Martina sat up with a mischievous smile and pushed the hair away from her eyes. ‘Lord Amos keptyouvery well entertained.’
Ariana tutted. ‘I keep telling you, it isn’t like that.’
Martina grinned. ‘If you say so, dearest.’
‘I wish you would not allow your imagination such free rein.’
‘I see what you yourself are not yet ready to accept. You are everything that’s lovely and sophisticated. Lord Amos will recover from his loss given time, and it seems to me that your undemanding company helps him in that regard. You did not know his wife, so he does not associate you with her. Besides, he would have to be blind and very stupid not to appreciate your many virtues, and he is neither of those things.’
‘And you,’ Ariana said, laughing, ‘are biased. Anyway, up you get. We have things to do today.’
Martina blinked back her surprise. ‘We do?’
‘Certainly. It’s my day off and we are for Shawford and the modiste.’
Martina blinked again. ‘Why?’
‘The masquerade, silly.’
‘I must be very slow this morning. I have heard talk of it, obviously, but was not aware that we would be attending.’
