A Fallen Woman (22 page)

‘
I have to please you and Mama. And my brothers and
sisters.’

‘You
always do.’ He dropped a light kiss on her forehead. ‘Pleasant
dreams, my love. Sleep well. You will need your rest. We have a
wedding tomorrow.’

They certainly
did. The thought of Charlotte’s approaching nuptials cheered Rachel
considerably. With a last, surreptitious glance towards Worsley,
Rachel picked up her skirts and made her way from the ballroom,
heading for the welcoming sanctity of her bedchamber and the
comfort of her bed.

Chapter
Nine

Would it be
inappropriate to offer for one daughter when another was about to
get married that very day?

Nash lay in bed and contemplated the problem. A part of him
was astonished that this was a problem at all. He had not come to
Thorncroft to reignite the warm feelings he had once had for Rachel
Sheridan. That he still had. That delusion, at least, could safely
be put to bed. He did not feel anything, he felt
every
thing, the same fevered emotions that he had experienced
the first time he had laid eyes on her across a dance floor. Now
things were a little different, of course, because now his desire
was tempered with a curious need to protect her from life and all
its trials. It in no way diffused his need for her, but Nash found
that it transformed his need in minute ways, deepening emotions
that marbled the very surface of his soul.

He had
been disappointed to discover that she had retired when he had
returned Lady Sheridan to her husband’s side but he had not been
surprised. She had said little enough and he could only guess at
what she’d had to endure, fending off the heavy handed – or not so
subtle – suggestions from the local gentlemen or the biting acid of
the females who cloaked all in a honey-sweet smile of common
courtesy. Which would have been harder to bear? Whatever the
answer, she had come through it with her dignity intact. Would the
same could be said about all of the guests who had attended. After
Rachel had retired, several of the young ladies – Violet Thursby
among them – had made very determined plays for his attention, so
much so that he had sought out that small – but resolute – group of
men who considered dancing an anathema but had been forced to
attend anyway. These he had found in one of the smaller parlors,
playing cards and drinking. He had invited himself to a few games
of blackjack and an hour or two had passed pleasantly enough. He
had thought he might have to answer innumerable questions as to his
return to England, as he had done in London, but the local
gentlemen were not even mildly interested in his affairs. It had
been a refreshing interlude.

On a sudden impulse, he flung
the covers aside – and shivering a little
in the frigid air – pulled on his dressing gown and thrust his feet
into the slippers that Hartley always left beside the bed. He
shivered in the chilly air. When he had been abroad he had wintered
in warmer climes; Spain and Italy were chilly, but they were not,
generally, snowbound in December. It was still early, the clock on
the mantel giving the time as being a little past seven. Too early,
perhaps, to rouse somebody after a late night of merriment, but
Nash thought that if Adam wasn’t awake, he damn well should be. He
was getting married this very day – the entire fabric of his life
undergoing a metamorphose of epic proportions. If that didn’t
suggest an early morning, Nash was blowed if he knew what
would.

Besides, he
wished to talk to his old friend.

The curtains
were still drawn in Adam’s bedchamber. Nash walked across to the
window, twitching them aside and revealing a garden that had
received a fresh fall of snow during the night. It was still
falling, in fact, fat flakes falling gently from a dull pewter sky.
Nash gave the world a cursory glance before turning his attention
to the recumbent form in the bed.

This is the
last time Adam will be sharing a bed alone. Or if not the last
time, then it is the last time without mitigating circumstances
preventing him from doing so.

The
thought sent a pang of something that felt very much like
loneliness through Nash and he blinked with surprise. Loneliness?
Was he truly lonely? Up until a few short days ago he had thought
that he was anything but, content to travel through life by
himself. He had not even considered the idea that a wife would
impinge on his independence. When one arranged a marriage, one
factored in the things one felt important. He had assumed that his
own infidelity would be one of the bargaining points, to save time
with recriminations later. Now the idea of abandoning his wife – of
abandoning Rachel – seemed absurd. What woman could possess all of
the attributes that she had in such abundance?

Shaking his
head at his own absurdity – he had not even offered for the girl,
for God’s sake! – he went and perched on the edge of Adam’s bed and
poked a stiff finger into an area roughly approximating his
friend’s ribs.

‘Wake up. I want to talk
to you.’ Adam groaned but he did not open
his eyes. Admittedly, they had rolled into bed by four but there
was no excuse for sloth. If Nash couldn’t sleep, he was damned if
Adam should. He poked again. ‘Come on. I want to talk to
you.’

An eye cracked open and
Adam peered at him. In the dull, barely
there light of morning, Nash could discern no enthusiasm for this
visit.

‘Damn you to hell
, Nash, what time is it?’

‘A little
past seven. But in my defense, this is not a day you wish to sleep
away.’

‘
The wedding isn’t until three. Sleeping more of it away sounds
good to me.’

‘
Yes, but I wish to talk to you.’

‘
I will be available at ten. Feel free to make an appointment
with my butler on the way out.’

Nash grinned,
but did not relent. If the boot was on the other foot he would
probably be hurling one at an unwelcome guest but there might be no
opportunity to talk later, not in private, and he wanted Adam’s
advice now.

‘
I have something in particular I wish to discuss with
you.’

The lump
beneath the covers was silent for a moment, then Nash heard a
strangled groan. ‘I think I preferred it when you were in
Europe.’

‘No you
didn’t. You could not possibly have found a more agreeable
companion than me. I am surprised you did not visit more often.’
Adam had come to see him several times and they had enjoyed a good
deal of sport, of one kind or another. A transient life had not
been for him, however, and he had returned to England after a few
weeks. Nash had always been sorry to see him go.

‘Light
the bloody fire, then. It feels as though it’s freezing out
there!’

Obligingly, Nash went and struck a tinder to put a spark
beneath the kindling that was already prepared in the fireplace. It
caught the dry sticks quickly. Behind him, he heard the squeak of
wood and springs as Adam sat up. When the kindling had caught
fully, he added some smaller logs, then went back to the bed. Adam
was sitting up but he was clearly reluctant to leave the warmth of
his covers. Adam climbed onto the foot of the bed and, leaning on
the footboard, dragged several rugs over his chilly
limbs.

Adam arched an
eyebrow. ‘Why aren’t you still in bed like a sane man should
be?’

‘I wanted
to ask you something. Unfortunately for you, I was too impatient to
wait. Besides, you’re probably going to be surrounded later on and
there won’t be an opportunity.’

Adam, who
finally appeared to be waking up, looked at him with interest. ‘Ask
me what?’

Nash was
silent for a moment, assembling his thoughts. This might be
awkward, not so much for him as for his friend who was, after all,
marrying into the Sheridan clan. Still, that seemed to make him the
ideal person to quiz. He had come to know the family and could
probably guide Nash better than anybody.

‘
I am thinking of requesting an interview with Lord Sheridan
today,’ he began, feeling his way.

Adam looked
surprised. ‘An interview? About what?’

‘
About requesting the hand of his daughter in
marriage.’

This was
certainly unambiguous. There was only one Sheridan female of
marriageable age or availability. He eyed Adam who looked a little
like he had received a hefty blow to the breadbasket. Winded would
be the word. He huffed out a breath.

‘Asking for Rachel? Asking to
marry
Rachel?’ The tone was one of incredulity
and Nash grimaced. If Adam thought Rachel too compromised to marry
it hardly boded well for anybody else. It seemed, however, that
Rachel’s suitability was not the issue. ‘Good God Nash, I knew you
harbored a
tendre
for her years ago but I had no idea that you still did.
That is to say,’ he amended, his amiable countenance revealing his
concern. ‘I had noticed that you have behaved…’ here he
hesitated.

‘
Like a callow idiot?’ Nash provided helpfully.

‘On the contrary. I had noticed that you have paid
particular attention to Rachel in the past few days but I had not
thought that it ran deeper than natural courtesy,’ Adam eyed Nash
narrowly for a moment before saying abruptly. ‘Good God man, what
are you up to? You do know – no, damn it, I
know
you know – what happened in London
with Salinger.’

‘I know
what happened,’ Nash agreed, a little shortly. The very thought of
Dorian Salinger made his blood boil anew and imbued in him a strong
desire to call the man out, should they ever meet again just so he
could have the pleasure of putting a bullet in him. Ireland was not
so very big. He was sure he could find the scoundrel.

‘
Then you know that she was ruined.’

‘
Naturally.’ It was his turn to arch an eyebrow. ‘Your
point?’

‘
My point is that she would not necessarily be the first choice
for Countess Worsley,’ Adam said acidly. ‘What is behind this? Do
you mean to cause a stir? Finish your blasted mother off? What are
you planning afterwards? Another rapid retreat to the
Continent?’

Harsh
words indeed but Nash liked Adam all the more for his brutal
honesty. But he had him entirely wrong. He did not wish to cause a
stir, kill off his sainted mama or retreat back to Italy, although
he supposed he was prepared to do all three (for he did not truly
believe it would kill his remaining parent off, it would merely
give her more to complain about), but needs must…

‘
I am aware that there will be issues -’

‘
Issues!’

‘ –
and I can expect a good deal of negativity. That is not
what I wished to talk to you about. What I was hoping for was some
insight into the suitability of talking to Lord Sheridan today.
Perhaps it would be more appropriate if I approached him
tomorrow?’

‘Nash…’ Adam opened his mouth, the
n seemed to think better of it. He
drew a deep breath, then several more and tried again. ‘Are you in
love with Rachel?’

‘
I am.’ That was one thing Nash felt very confident
about.

‘
But more than three years have passed since you last saw her.
You hardly know her. Not really.’

‘
I have always known her. Five minutes in Rachel’s company and
it would be hard not to. Besides,’ he added shrewdly, ‘how long did
it take you to realize that you loved Charlotte?’

Adam blinked
and Nash knew he had scored a point. His friend rallied. ‘This
situation is entirely different and you know it.’

‘
It is, I grant you that but I can’t imagine that everybody was
thrilled that you were marrying the sister of a fallen
woman.’

‘
Not everyone,’ Adam agreed sourly. ‘I didn’t give a
damn.’

‘
So why should I?’

‘
Because nobody will receive you if you do so, that’s why,’
Adam said with brutal honesty. ‘Are you prepared for a lifetime of
snubs?’

‘
I’m prepared for a lifetime of protecting Rachel from those
snubs,’ Nash replied, suddenly knowing that it was absolutely true.
He would do anything to spare her feelings.

Adam stared at
him, long and hard. ‘And the matter of her maidenhood?’ he inquired
softly. ‘Are you prepared to bed a woman who has already lain with
another man?’

Harsh
words indeed, even if they were not said harshly. Nash felt a
momentary flash of fury that his friend should point out anything
so indiscreet, should mention a subject that should not be on
anyone’s lips. It died away as swiftly as it had arisen. He knew
why Adam was being so hard. He was only saying what everybody else
would be saying, should he choose to pursue this course of
action.

Nash had
thought about it, of course. Most gentlemen expected to take a
virgin for a bride, unless it was a widow in the offing or an
arrangement of extraordinary financial benefit to the
husband-to-be. He had assumed – the world assumed – that so exalted
a creature as Worsley would pick some unsullied young thing,
probably in her first Season. For that “just minted” freshness, he
thought ironically.

He had
thought about it and had found, much to his surprise, that it was
one aspect that did not bother him. What Rachel had undergone at
Salinger’s hands had been seduction at best, enforced congress at
worst. But how many females had he lain with, both married and
single? Had he considered their husbands, future or current? To
hold Rachel’s shocking experience against her would be the height
of cruelty and he felt no desire to do so.