Midnight Bride (12 page)

The last shot was too much for Dunstan. All his life he had borne insults so calmly that no one had known when they affected him. This time was different. "Had you been the lady I expected you to be, I would be happy to oblige."

Elizabeth drew back as though struck. "What do you mean?"

"After what happened between us this morning, I had assumed you would want the protection of my name. I see I was mistaken." He started past her when she put a hand on his arm.

"What do you mean by 'after what happened'? What happened?"

"You must be very accustomed to finding men in your bed, Miss
Beckworth
, if you do not remember." Each word held the cutting edge of a sharp knife.

"Oh, that." Elizabeth sagged against the door in relief, closing her eyes.

"Yes, that." He stopped short, noting the way her face and body had relaxed. "What did you think I meant?" he asked curiously, intrigued against his will.

Her face flamed again. She simply shook her head. Her reluctance to answer finally told him what he wanted to know. "No, no, Miss
Beckworth
, that
cannot be true. I am certain I would remember . . ." He broke off in confusion, turning hastily to hide his embarrassment.

Elizabeth was more embarrassed than she had ever been in her life. She wanted to sink to the floor, but chose instead to walk to the settee on trembling legs and sat down. "Then why did you insist . . ."

"On marriage?"
She nodded her head. He thought for a moment, trying to find exactly the right words. Finally he just blurted out what he had said before. "I simply could not bear to go through another scandal." His voice was not as clear as it should have been.

"But your life has been nothing but scandal," she said, confused.

"My life?
What do you mean? Who told you about me?" The questions flew so fast she felt that she
were
being hit from all sides. She put a hand up in front of her face as if to ward off blows.

Embarrassed by his tactics, Dunstan dropped into the chair he had occupied only a short time before. He waited quietly until she lowered her hands. "Please, tell me who has been gossiping about me," he said in a soft voice.

"Jeffries told me you were Viscount Dunstan. You are, aren't you?" She looked at him questioningly for a moment and then lowered her eyes again. He nodded. "My stepmother told me that you are known for your gambling and disgraceful behavior."

"Me?" Are you certain she said me?" he asked astonished.

"You are the Viscount Dunstan," she reminded him.

Then as though
a candelabra
had been lit, his face changed. "When did she tell you about me? During your Seasons?" he asked as gently as he could. As embarrassing as it was to admit his father's and brother's villainy, it would be a welcome relief to know that the gossip she had heard had not been about him.

"No.
Oh
, I
heard gossip then," she added, "but this was later.
Something to do with a girl."
She paused and then looked at him curiously, noting his pallor. "Jeffries said you had come into your title recently. What did he mean by that?"

"Until eighteen months ago I had no title and no prospects other than a small income from my grandfather," he told her, his voice as warm as he could make it. He laughed ruefully. "Until today the only scandals I have known has been of my relatives' making. And they made enough to last me for several lifetimes." Then he ran a hand through his hair, embarrassed for having given so much away. Now it was his eyes that were glued to the floor. A faint line of red showed above his collar.

"You did not crawl in bed with me to create a scandal?" Elizabeth asked, not certain whether or not to believe his story. She could ask Charles, she supposed. He loved to gossip. But one thing she was certain of was that her brother would never do anything to harm her, would never introduce her to someone who was bad
ton.
Sebastian Hartley crossed her mind momentarily, but she dismissed the thought as quickly. Even her stepmother had to admit that the man was still acceptable to the
ton.
And she knew Dunstan was a better person than Hartley. Somehow, though she could not explain how, Elizabeth did not want to believe that Dunstan was guilty of anything but having too much to drink and a poor sense of direction.

Dunstan rose, towering above her like a great oak. "If I wanted to create a scandal, I could have made sure the maid found me there on the floor," he reminded her firmly. Her face blanched. "All I want to do now is make certain no gossip about this incident can touch either of us." He smiled
sweetly,
certain she was ready to yield. Soon she would agree with his proposal, and they could begin to make the arrangements.

Just as he was picturing himself beside Lord
Ramsburg
, helping to write speeches that changed the nation, a quiet, throaty voice asked, "You are telling me that what happened this morning was an accident, totally unplanned?" Elizabeth still could not believe that it was true.

"That
's
right." He sat down in the chair in front of her and took her hand in his. She looked at their clasped hands pointedly, but he ignored her. "But I cannot be sorry the incident happened."

"What?" She pulled her hand back as quickly as if she had touched hot coals.

"No. No. I didn't mean that."

"It seems to me you frequently say things you do not mean, Lord Dunstan." This time Elizabeth stood up and crossed to the window. "If you have anything further to say, please hurry. I have many duties waiting on me."

"But you can't go. We haven't arranged the marriage." All of Dunstan's plans evaporated. He stood up to follow her. But she glared at him and he sat back down, feeling slightly foolish. How had the situation gotten out of hand?

"What marriage?" Elizabeth's mouth was set in a firm line.

"Ours.
Yours and mine."
This time his tone was more tentative.

"I have told you before that I do not plan to marry you," Elizabeth said firmly. "If you do not desist, I will have to believe that everything that has happened has been a plot." For a moment she had believed him. Her wealth was too great a temptation, she supposed, remembering the lectures she had been given the first time she had gone to London. Even then she had been taken in. Remembering the humiliation she had faced that time, the quality of her own judgment, made Elizabeth stiffen her back. "If you are as innocent of wrongdoing as you claim, I am certain you are enough of a gentleman to do as I wish. I will bid you good-bye." She stood by the window, a perfect picture of spring, her eyes determined.

Realizing that for the moment he had no choice but to agree or be labeled a cad, Dunstan nodded. He walked to the door. His uneasiness and guilt made him pause just before he opened the door. "I shall be in London for some time. I can be reached at
Darington
House, Berkley Square, or at the Home Office." He swept her a bow worthy of a duchess. He turned to leave and then stopped again. He hesitated and then faced her. "You would do well to discourage your brother's interest in Hartley," he said quietly. Then he opened the door and left.

"
Darington
House? Berkley Square?" Elizabeth swept to the door and opened it. Dunstan was gone. "I suppose he gave me his direction because he thinks I will change my mind," she said angrily. Not for anything would she admit that she wondered what would have happened if she had only said yes.

When Charles burst through the door as energetically as he had when he was a schoolboy, Elizabeth, once more in the throes of writing her friend, jumped.
Her pen left a jagged hole in the paper, and the point on the quill broke. "I have been looking for you," Charles said, his voice carefully cheerful, not at all certain how she would greet him.

"I have been here all morning," Elizabeth said quietly, a smile on her face. He sounded just like he did when he was a small boy in trouble with his nanny or tutor.

"Jeffries said you were busy. So I saw the others off first." Charles dragged a chair across the carpet and sat down beside her desk.

"Where are they going?" Elizabeth looked at him in surprise. "I rather thought you would be out with them on a morning like this."

"Oh, they are going back to London. I decided to stay with you a while, if you will have me." His voice was properly humble. He glanced at his sister to see how she was going to react. She was waiting for him to look, laughter in her eyes.

"Caught you," she said, laughing. "Cousin Louisa will enjoy your visit." She could not hide her pleasure. She sat there quietly
smiling,
waiting for what she was certain would follow.

"I am sorry. You do know that, Little Bit?" His use of his childhood name for her made her smile even more. Charles looked at her, still confused about the easy way she was taking his apology.

"You told me that last night. I am glad we settled it before we went to sleep. I dislike going to bed with our arguments unresolved." She glanced at him, trying to discover any ill effects from his excesses of the evening before. "I only wish you would learn to drink more moderately."

"Now you sound like Mama," he said a trifle petulantly. He paused, still uncertain, and then hurried on. "I was a bit on the go last evening, wasn't I?"

"A bit?
Charles, you were so far in drink you could hardly talk." Indulgent though Elizabeth was at times, she did not approve of his recent habits. "If you are not careful, you could be ruined." She turned to look at him, taking his hand between both of hers. "I don't mean to preach. You get enough of that from Mama. But I wish you could find something to do that would make you happy."

Charles let her clasp his hand for a moment, running a thumb over hers. Then he pulled away, his face darkening. "Little Bit, can you try again with Mama? I know what I want to do with my life, and it is not sitting around my estates watching my agents work." He stood up, running a hand over the back of his neck. Then he began to pace.

"I have tried. But since your cousin's death, she is even more adamant. As the heir to two vast estates, you cannot be risked." Elizabeth sighed, remembering the last letter she had received from her stepmother. Indulgent as the lady was, she was determined that her only son and her brother's heir besides would not risk his life on the Peninsula. She had told Elizabeth that the decision had nothing to do with her and that if she wanted to keep their relationship intact Elizabeth was to say nothing further on the subject. For such a pretty flibbertigibbet, Lady
Ramsburg
had a will of iron about some things. "I will try again but not immediately."