Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

T heodore stared at Stephen for quite a long time.

Generally speaking, Stephen did not like being stared at. He was not one of those nobles who flew into a rage if a subordinate dared to look them in the eyes, but prolonged eye contact was impolite at best—and more often than not a challenge.

Theodore had known Stephen for longer than either of them could remember, however, and was remarkably stubborn, into the bargain. In short, he was too valuable a friend to replace very easily, so Stephen only stared back and waited for his companion to speak first.

“The ton will speak of nothing but this for years,” Theodore said, at last. “The parties involved will never recover. Not that I care for the Marquess, of course, but Miss Haversham is ruined.”

Stephen smiled wryly. “Bold words for a man who married his brother’s jilted bride barely a week later. Perhaps I felt as though you were attracting too much attention and wished to compete.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Stephen. I’m sure Beatrice is innocent in all of this, but truly, her reputation?—”

“Her reputation will be fine,” Stephen interrupted. “She is innocent.”

Theodore growled in frustration. “Nobody will marry her after this.”

“Firstly, I ought to point out that dear Miss Haversham does not seem to intend to get married, and certainly not to the weak sort of men that might be scared off by a trifling scandal.”

“A trifling… Oh, you are infuriating.”

“I work hard at it, my friend. And secondly, she may well be announcing an engagement soon. I intend to marry her.”

There. It was said.

Stephen privately enjoyed poking the wasps’ nest that was the ton. Their stinging reprisals were meat and drink to him. Frankly, at times, he did not feel whole unless there was some shocking scandal hanging about him, some horror story that had gentlemen quaking in their boots and ladies swooning as he passed by.

Their disgust and delight were all one to him. He’d take either, or both, just so long as they were not indifferent .

Theodore was a different matter. Stephen watched his friend carefully, seeing emotions flit across his face. Disbelief, anger, horror, resignation, all in quick succession.

“You cannot be serious,” Theodore said.

“I rarely joke.”

“The devil you don’t. But your jokes are unbearably complicated.”

“Come, Theo. We’re meant to be walking home, aren’t we?”

Stephen turned and began to walk away from the church. Just a little way ahead was a wrought-iron gate through which carriages, ladies, and gentlemen of all ranks were passing, ready to join the gray London streets and go about their day as before, albeit with a fine new piece of gossip to share. A wedding gone wrong was always exciting, as long as it was not one’s own.

Theodore muttered an expletive under his breath, jogging to catch up with his long-legged friend.

Stephen did not bother to slow his pace for his shorter companion. Suddenly, he was very tired of London and people and being out in the open. Mapping out the quickest route to Theodore’s London residence, he decided that the walk home would take no more than fifteen minutes if they took a shortcut.

We might even arrive home before Anna and my new betrothed if traffic is particularly bad, he thought, smiling wryly.

“You cannot be serious about marrying Beatrice,” Theodore said, his voice low and urgent. “Sometimes, Stephen, I think I do not understand you at all. The Marquess may be an unpleasant man, but he was never an enemy of yours. He never made trouble for you, as far as I can recall. Why humiliate him so publicly?”

“So that the wedding would be called off, of course,” Stephen responded.

“And that’s it, then? You wanted to cause mischief? Beatrice is not… She’s a fine lady, to be sure, but she is not swimming in opportunities. Perhaps she was eager to marry the Marquess.”

Stephen stopped short. At this point, they had joined the flow of pedestrians making their way out of the gates, sticking to one side of the road to avoid the carriages. His pause caused something of an obstruction, and there were muffled tuts and quiet exclamations of annoyance, as other walkers were forced to stop and go around.

Nothing was said too loudly, of course, and never said directly to him.

“Do you really think Miss Haversham was keen on marrying the Marquess?” Stephen asked abruptly.

Theodore shifted uneasily. “Well, she is not my friend exactly. More like Anna’s friend. I’m sure she would have spoken up if she were not happy with the arrangement.”

“Oh? What an incisive mind you have, my friend. No detail escapes you.”

Theodore rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright. It is clear you saw something I did not. Frankly, I don’t think she was in love with the man, but that still does not explain why you saw fit to intervene in such a manner. I did not know you were even on close terms with Beatrice.”

“I am not. And as for intervening , it’s rather simple. I helped her because she asked me to.”

Theodore blinked, bewildered. Stephen allowed himself one small, wry smile, then turned and continued to walk.

They stayed quiet until the crowds were mostly left behind. As anticipated, the traffic was back, coaches and carriages and horses thronging the streets. London had always been a busy city, of course, but these days, it grew more crowded by the hour.

“Why would Beatrice ask you to help her?” Theodore asked, picking up the thread of their conversation once the crowds had somewhat melted away.

“I have a reputation, you know. She did not know or care how I would free her from her wedding, but that’s what she wanted. In return, I requested one favor. Just one.”

Theodore shot him a look. “One is all it takes with you, you wretch. A gentleman might have helped her out of her predicament without asking for anything in return.”

“Then a gentleman would be a fool. And I am not a gentleman, am I, Theodore?”

Theodore let out an annoyed sigh. “And that does not explain why you are talking about marrying her, Stephen. I thought you were opposed to matrimony.”

“Not true. I do not see much appeal in the institution—yourself and Anna notwithstanding—and, as you know, I do not intend to continue my line.”

Theodore shot him a quick look. They had discussed Stephen’s father before, but Theodore knew about Stephen’s vow.

Stephen was often under the impression that his friend did not quite agree, but Theodore did understand, and that was the main thing.

“So, explain,” Theodore pressed. “Why Beatrice? And why in such a manner?”

“Quite simply because Miss Haversham was there. She was convenient.”

“Ha! You never take the easiest road, Stephen.”

Stephen rolled his eyes. “Very well. She displayed remarkable bravery by coming to visit me, which one must admire. She is clever, forthright, and clearly desires independence. She does not like me, and so will not bother me, and seems to be the sort of woman who would appreciate a nicely worked-out, old-fashioned marriage of convenience. However, I’m not sure she would have been amenable to the idea of marrying me had she not owed me a favor.”

Theodore groaned. “Did you not consider marrying a woman who was not engaged in a battle of wits with you?”

“Now, where is the fun in that? And I’d like to remind you that the circumstances of your nuptials were also less than ideal.”

That was a fair point, which Theodore conceded with a grunt and a nod of his head.

They reached a busy market square, full of carriages and angry coachmen shouting at each other and flicking whips over the heads of the passersby in an attempt to clear their way. It was not working, and most pedestrians carried on their way, oblivious, heads down, weaving through the market stalls.

There were plenty of independent sellers to avoid, too—small girls with baskets of wilting flowers, pie-men with their steaming, savory goods, slatternly women selling gingerbread and other edibles, along with ribbons, posies, jewelry, and more. Just about every treat and trinket a person could think of.

There were also pickpockets aplenty, and Stephen kept his wits about him as they forced their way through.

There were less savory ladies lurking in the dark alleyways, their faces powdered and clumsily rouged. Their eyes were hard and sharp, on the lookout for peelers and prospective customers alike.

It was always unpleasant to see ladies of the night during the day—it smacked of desperation and perhaps a little fear.

For his part, Stephen never dallied with such women. He preferred mutually beneficial arrangements, with mutual admiration and satisfaction on both sides. It seemed sickening to even contemplate taking advantage of their unfortunate and miserable situations.

He knew only too well that any number of unavoidable misfortunes could send a woman skidding on her backside into the gutter, with no means of earning a living and nothing to sell except herself.

A runaway or drunk husband, a mistake in one’s youth, losing a job in a factory, or even a simple bout of bad luck was all it would take.

A ruined wedding, perhaps.

Men always seemed to have more options, more opportunities to crawl up from the dirt, but Society seemed keen on keeping a woman where she was once she had fallen.

Enough of that.

Stephen purposefully turned away, glad to stride out of the chaos and filth of the marketplace.

Perhaps I ought to take my carriage more frequently. But then, not walking through places like this would not make them cease to exist, would it?

“You still haven’t explained why you want to marry, Stephen,” Theodore spoke again, jogging to catch up with him.

“Perhaps I am tired of being besieged by Society mamas and their precious daughters,” Stephen responded.

“They’re too afraid of you.”

“Unfortunately, that is not quite true. There are always a few enterprising young ladies and unscrupulous parents who are willing to try their luck.”

“Hmph. If you say so.”

“I do say so.” Stephen shot Theodore a pointed look. “Perhaps it would be best if you didn’t mention any of this to Anna, by the way.”

“First of all, I don’t keep secrets from my wife. Secondly, I am absolutely sure that Beatrice will have told her the whole story by the time the carriage arrives home.”

“Oh.” Stephen paused, digesting this. “Do you think so?”

“I do. And frankly, I don’t believe Beatrice would agree to marry you. She is entirely too clever. No offense.”

“That is rather offensive, old friend. Nevertheless, don’t worry—time will tell. I think she has a rather different view on the matter. And it’s not like you have been exactly honorable , Theo.” He paused, giving his friend a grin. “No offense.”

Theodore glowered at him and let out a long sigh. “Sometimes, Stephen, I want to wring your neck.”

“Yes, I believe that’s a popular sentiment.”

Stephen noted with satisfaction that they had made excellent time, and were indeed going to arrive back at Theodore’s house at the same time as the ladies’ carriage. He could see the carriage waiting patiently outside the door. Anna climbed out first, slowly and carefully, a hand placed protectively over the swell of her belly.

With a flash of guilt, Stephen realized that he had never asked Theodore how he felt about the upcoming disaster of fatherhood.

Perhaps I do not want to know. I ought to be a better friend, though.

There was a second lady in the carriage. Miss Haversham, of course. No doubt she had chosen to come back to her friend’s house for a short rest, to forestall going home and facing her parents and the now useless wedding breakfast.

Stephen was not entirely sure what made him speed up, leaving Theodore behind. With a light jog, he was able to reach the carriage just as Miss Haversham unfolded herself out of it, that hideous dress swishing around her legs. She reached out tentatively to steady herself on the door but instead grasped Stephen’s outstretched hand.

She flinched—he felt the movement quite clearly—and of course, her foot slipped, tangled in the drooping hem of the aforementioned hideous dress.

The footman’s reactions were awful . The man’s eyes only widened as Miss Haversham plunged face-first towards the pavement. Stephen stretched out his free arm, keeping a grip on the woman’s hand, and neatly hauled her up from disaster. He bit back a sigh. Mouse would have torn strips from that footman’s hide for half the incompetence he’d just shown.

She stumbled, knocking herself against him, and his arm went around her waist instinctively, steadying her.

And there was a brief pause as Stephen realized that he had only crushed the wretched girl against him. The footman’s eyes were now popping out of his head. There was a rather telling silence from both Anna and Theodore.

Miss Haversham herself was breathing raggedly. The movement only seemed to accentuate their improper closeness. Stephen could feel the swell of her breasts against him. She tilted her head up, her eyes wide and blown with something that was not entirely disgust.

I could kiss her if I chose. With her wrapped up in my arms, our lips could meet before she even knew what was going on.

Kissing her would not be the worst thing in the world. She was pretty, and her plumpness only made her softer, more womanly than he might have thought. Arousal fizzled in his gut, muddling his thoughts.

And then Anna spoke, her voice deceptively calm. “Goodness. You had better let her go, Stephen.”

There was no ignoring the threat in her voice.

Stephen released Miss Haversham, who darted back a few steps as if she were afraid he might bite her.

Well, perhaps I will. Not hard, of course. But a little nibble never hurt anyone.

“I beg your pardon, Miss Haversham,” he said smoothly. “I did not intend to scare you. I thought you had seen me.”

“I was not scared, ” she shot back, as he had known she would. “I didn’t expect to see you again, that’s all.” She paused, and an almost comical expression came over her face. “Wait. You aren’t coming in for tea too, are you?”

He was tempted to say yes if only to see her reaction, but perhaps enough really was enough. Anna might slam his head against a door, or spill boiling water on his crotch, or something similar if he pushed too far.

“No, I am not,” he responded gracefully. “I only wanted to walk Theodore home. Good day to you all.”

He began to walk past, but as he passed Miss Haversham, he bent low enough so that her reddish-gold curls tickled the tip of his nose.

“Let me know when you are ready to discuss my rules, Miss Haversham. I shall be waiting with the utmost eagerness.”