A Fallen Woman (3 page)

‘
After six months or so, perhaps,’ Rachel demurred. ‘I have
seen you and Adam together. You will both be too besotted with each
other to notice if anybody is about for the first few months, I
daresay.’

‘Well…
perhaps for the first two weeks that might be the case,’ Charlotte
dimpled her agreement. She was marrying Lord Casterton, whose
family estate lay in the heart of Warwickshire. Rachel knew it
would be a wrench, having her sister so far away much of the time
but she meant every word she said. She fully intended to visit
frequently, especially as Adam appeared likely to be a thoroughly
charming brother-in-law. He had certainly been a thoroughly
charming suitor so far. He must know of her history – who did not?
– but he had never treated her with anything but warmth. Rachel
genuinely liked the man and was sure he would make Charlotte the
happiest of women. ‘Really, it will be very odd, living somewhere
other than Thorncroft.’

‘You will
both come back frequently and you shall be far too busy
establishing yourself at Fallowfield to pine. Imagine,’ Rachel
shook her head in mock wonder, ‘you being mistress of your own
household. And you don’t even have a mother-in-law to
quell.’

Charlotte
giggled, but shook her head. ‘It is very sad that poor Adam’s
parents are both dead.’

‘It would
have been sadder if they hadn’t both been dead for nearly fifteen
years. He has had time to adjust to the loss.’

‘You are an unfeeling
woman! The tragedy -’

‘Is
quite lost upon me,’ Rachel admitted. ‘And yes, I am an
unfeeling woman, of that there is no doubt. But I am glad that Adam
suggested having the marriage here when he could have so easily
insisted on the chapel at Fallowfield.’

‘With so
little family of his own, I think he was happy to have the marriage
here. He knew it was important to Mama. And to me, of course, but
less so. Honestly, I could not care in the least where we get
married, just as long as we do.’

‘Of
course not. And isn’t it a wonderful thing that he is so thrilled
by the idea of marrying into a large family? Most men would have
been daunted by a pair of in-laws and five children, whereas he
seems positively thrilled.’

‘He has not yet m
et Charity,’ Charlotte observed thoughtfully.
‘Which is just as well. He might not have made me an
offer.’

‘
Well yes, there is that. But it is too late now. He is well
and truly stuck with us.’

‘I believe he is
happy to have it so. It cannot have been easy, an
only child in a house like Fallowfield. He told me once that he
found the great, echoing rooms quite frightening when he was a
child.’

‘Poor boy
. When
we
all arrive on your doorstep, those rooms will be echoing
all over again. Just release our Liza into those hallowed halls and
see how long his enthusiasm lasts.’

Charlotte laughed.
‘Oh, but they get on very well together, which is
such a relief for you know how Liza can take a dislike to people.’
She gave a happy sigh. ‘It’s going to be a very festive affair,
with all of us together. Our first Christmas.’ She paused, her
smile dimming a little. ‘It is a pity about the dance tomorrow
night but I daresay it will pass quite quickly?’ There was a hint
of inquiry in her voice.

Rachel
shook her head. ‘For heaven’s sake, it is just a dance. Stop
worrying. Everybody will be on their best behavior, determined to
impress your rich and influential lord.’

‘But we
have not seen these people socially for such a long time,’
Charlotte murmured. ‘Indeed, I wish Mama had not troubled herself.
As if we need to invite our perfectly disagreeable
neighbors.’

‘It is more than time to do so,’ Rachel responded with
determined good humor. ‘
You’re
the one who said I should be out and about.
Besides, it is to celebrate your wedding. Nobody will pay the
slightest attention to me, I am sure.’

‘
Are you?’ Charlotte inquired softly.

‘Of
course. Besides, more people in the house will make Charity less
noticeable. Every silver lining has its cloud and there is one
heading our way right now,’ Rachel reminded her. ‘James and George
will also be joining us tomorrow.’

‘I was
rather hoping Charity would throw one of her sickly turns. A bad
head would be so convenient, don’t you think? Not that I don’t want
to see James,’ Charlotte added hastily. ‘I just wish he did not
have to bring his wife.’

‘And so
do we all. Perhaps they will not wish to travel so far in December?
Kent is a long way away.’

They both looked towards the windows and the overcast sky
beyond. It had been threatening snow since the evening before but
as yet, no flakes had fallen. December was an odd month to have a
wedding but Charlotte and Adam had only met each other in
September,
more or less at the end of the London Season. According to
Charlotte, she had known that Adam was the one from the moment she
had set eyes on him and, when they had discussed that first meeting
several months later, apparently Adam had experienced the same
immediate connection, as if the two of them being there in that
moment, in that place, was fated to be.

He certainly had not waited long to propose, coming to
visit their father just before the family removed back down to
Thorncroft. Papa had been startled
by this late runner for his daughter’s
hand but more than willing to entertain Lord Casterton’s suit,
suggesting that he join them for a long weekend at the end of
October where the matter could be further discussed.

Adam had
arrived as directed, requested Charlotte’s hand again the day after
his arrival and somehow that long weekend had lengthened into
weeks. In truth, the pair were reluctant to be parted. He had
finally returned to Warwickshire in early December, to make
Fallowfield ready for the arrival of his wife.

‘
It will be perfect,’ Rachel assured her sister. ‘It is going
to be a wonderful day.’

It wasn’t until Rachel was in her bedchamber later that
evening that she thought of Nash, the Earl of Worsley again. Having
collected her book and taken up a favorite position by the fire,
she found that, instead of finding her place in her well-thumbed
copy of Mrs. Radcliffe’s
The Italian
, she had returned again in memory to a warm night
at the beginning of August and her somewhat fragmented memories of
what, exactly, had taken place between herself and the Earl of
Worsley.

Now that
she thought about it, she was sure it had been just three days
before she had decided to throw propriety – and her future – to the
winds and run away with Dorian Salinger and she could vaguely
recall that she had been both impatient and resentful at her
father’s insistence that she see Worsley alone. It had been so
unlike Papa to insist on any such thing that Rachel had been
bewildered. In retrospect, she knew that her father had been
concerned about her, so much so that he had thrown a hopeful earl
in her direction. Of course, Worsley’s desire to see her alone
could only mean one thing; that the earl had intended to ask for
her hand. She had known from the outset what the answer must
be.

She had been in
love with another man. How could it have been anything but no?

Had she
been too harsh? She had not learned until months later that he had
disappeared from London almost immediately after he had made her an
offer. The uproar surrounding her elopement with Salinger and her
abrupt removal to Northumberland had shut her off from news of the
outside world. That and her subsequent distress over her abortive
‘elopement.’ Rachel had been in no fit condition to take in social
gossip, even if somebody had told her that Worsley had abandoned
England. She hadn’t taken in much of anything in those first,
painful months after she had been brought back to Thorncroft. But
she could recall that her father had flatly refused to put Worsley
off and she had been forced to meet him in the conservatory, where
she had gone to be alone with her thoughts. With her dreams of
Dorian and the future she had been convinced they were destined to
share.

What a fool she
had been…

It was almost second nature to turn her thoughts
from
Dorian
Salinger by now and instead she tried to recall her interview with
Nash Worsley. It came to her in disconnected fragments, his words
coming back in snatches.

‘Miss Sheridan,’ he had begun, and the eagerness in his
face had
been
memorable. She had tried to focus on him properly – for clearly, he
had come with a purpose. Worsley had seemed so young, despite the
fact that he must have been older than she. How much older, she
could not recall but if he was Adam’s contemporary he would be four
and twenty by now. She had instinctively known that she would not
care for whatever he had come to say and had feebly tried to stem
the tide.

‘
My lord, please. I cannot -’

But there
had been no gainsaying the man, no turning him back or deflecting
his declaration. She knew they had gone through with the whole,
sorry business, even if she couldn’t remember the details
precisely. It had not been the first proposal that Rachel had
received but it had certainly been the one she had fumbled the
worst. Caught up in her own preoccupations, she had probably not
managed the thing as well as she should have. In fact, she was sure
that she had not for the one thing she still retained an image of
with uncomfortable clarity was the look of hurt that had replaced
the eagerness in Nash Guthrie’s eyes.

Not her
finest moment. Indeed, fine moments had been few and far between
for her. If she could only have her time again…

But what was
done, was done.

Rachel frowned, staring at the leaping flames in the
fireplace. How different her life was
now, compared to the one she – and the
rest of the world, no doubt – had thought she would live. It had
been over three years since her fall from grace. The first year had
been the worst, of course and there was no doubt things had grown
easier. But they would never be the same again. With all of her
beauty and her advantages, Rachel Sheridan, eldest daughter of an
esteemed old English family, had been expected to achieve great
things. An excellent marriage, a glowing career as a leading light
in the London scene, a position that
mattered
.

If
only she had not come across Dorian Salinger in the
Pulfreys’ blossom scented garden when she had been searching for a
bracelet she had lost.

If she had
listened less to the sweet, intoxicating whisperings that flowed
from his lips and more to the rumbles and rumours surrounding his
doubtful respectability.

And if
she had not made that final, fatal error of judgement, agreeing to
run away with him in the dead of night, knowing full well that her
parents would never sanction their union. It had all seemed so
romantic, so exciting. He was the man that she loved with all her
heart. How could it be wrong to fly to Gretna together, to pursue a
life with Dorian, one where she could not help but be blissfully
happy?

No wonder
poor Worsley’s offer, something that any mama with a marriageable
daughter would have bartered a piece of her soul for, had not found
favor that warm summer’s afternoon. The pity of it wasn’t that he
had made the offer, but that she had refused him so clumsily. Girls
were tutored in subtle responses and she had experienced more than
her fair share of proposals and yet she had been as graceless as a
greenhorn.

It was pointless to wonder if she would have accepted him,
if her heart had been free to do so. She had been under Salinger’s
spell
for
some weeks before she had met Worsley and had been unable to view
any man as a potential husband. But if she had been free to choose,
would she have considered his offer? Probably. Nash Guthrie, future
9
^th
Earl of Worsley was a very pleasant young man; courteous,
sweet-natured and thoughtful. She had welcomed him when he had
sought her out at social events for he was funny and… and
trustworthy. Indeed, they had gotten on together very well. She
knew he would have made an excellent husband. But she had not been
sensible enough to consider him as
her
husband.

Rachel half closed her eyes, searching through her
unreliable memories.
Those unreliable memories suggested that they had actually
spent some time together. There had been so many occasions to
socialize; picnics, balls, the theatre and boats along the river.
Now that she thought of it, Worsley had been there frequently.
There had been so many opportunities. Her life had been an endless
round of entertainments. In one day a popular girl could receive
invitations to a dozen events at the height of the Season and
Rachel Sheridan – the Season’s acclaimed Incomparable – had
been
very
popular. So had Worsley, of course. How could a young,
extremely eligible earl in waiting be anything else? Besides, aside
from the title he would one day inherit, he’d had a lot to
recommend him; tall, broad shouldered and not at all bad looking,
if she recalled correctly. In truth, the thing she remembered most
about him had been his smile, although that was probably considered
the least of his charms. It certainly wouldn’t compare to his net
worth in the funds or the size of his estate or town house. Nash
Guthrie had been automatically feted wherever he went by hopeful
mamas looking to pull off a sterling match and he had seemed
somewhat overwhelmed by the attention he had received.