Chapter 8

The following evening, Letty lay in her bed, the exorbitant number of pillows cocooning her in a false sense of safety. In one night, she’d lost her dreams and the man she loved, all because of her brother. A brother who thought she was robbing him of his birthright by simply existing.

Her brother’s treachery was no surprise; it was Mac’s behavior that really gutted her. Pretending like he loved her, even practically proposing marriage.

Was it all a farce only to gain funds for his print shop?

The horrid truth was it didn’t feel like a charade to Letty. Everything about Mac felt real, like he was hers and she was his. From the moment they met at Crestview, there had been a connection, a meeting of like minds, and passion. More passion than she ever imagined.

A sniffle escaped her, and she cursed under her breath—hang it all—she had cried herself to sleep the previous evening, and then awoke and cried some more. Letty was done with that nonsense. Now she was enraged beyond measure. She was angry at Bertram for being a jealous bastard. Furious with Mac for convincing her that he actually loved her, and most of all she was incensed at herself. For one glorious moment, she thought she could have her magazine and the man she loved. How foolish she had been.

‘I never imagined that I would become so hopelessly in love.’

She closed her eyes, remembering his words—remembering his touch—and still finding it hard to believe that he had deceived her.

No, she wouldn’t let herself get swept up in the memory of what she thought was real. He didn’t love her. He loved his print shop. So much so that he took payment from Bertram.

To hell with Mac Meriweather! She was already ruined, so why should she abide by anyone’s rules any longer? It was time for Letty to do exactly as she pleased. And she knew just what she wanted to do.

Letty rose out of bed, throwing the white duvet aside. No more sulking. Walking over to the bell, she rang for her maid, Penny, to assist her in dressing. The family would be sitting down for dinner soon, and that would be her chance to leave.

“I came to warn you,” her sister said, entering her rooms without knocking.

The bright yellow gown she was wearing made her skin shine, enhancing her beauty. Her thick dark hair was swept in an elegant chignon—their mother’s insistence, of course.

“I’m leaving. I need you to make an excuse with mother and my father for me—” Letty rushed over to wardrobe, flipping through her many gowns.

“Leaving? Where are you going?” Cleo walked over to her, placing her hand on Letty’s.

She removed a deep red gown with a plunging neckline that she had purchased in secret when her parents were traveling to celebrate their anniversary and held it to her body.

Smiling triumphantly, she said, “Pleasure House.”

To her credit, Cleo took several moments to respond, her dark brown eyes waiting patiently for Letty to retract her words. She wouldn’t. It was time that she experienced life, and what better way to do that than to attend a scandalous event at one of London’s most wicked establishments?

Releasing a weary sigh, Cleo finally spoke. “I know you’re hurting, but being wild is not the answer. Besides, you have no experience with such things,” Cleo reminded her, taking the gown out of her hands.

Letty loved her sister more than anything, but she didn’t need sensible Cleo in this moment.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m already ruined, I’ve lost my inheritance and my dowry.” She counted each statement with her fingers. “And the man I thought loved me was lying the entire time.” Letty swallowed down the emotion that tried to break free.

No more tears.

She was done being a fool.

“I know men, and I do not believe that Mr. Meriweather lied about loving you. He seemed sincere. Perhaps you could speak with him and find out the truth before you do something you’ll regret.” Cleo placed the gown back into the wardrobe.

Before Letty could respond, her door opened again, both her parents walking in, dressed for dinner.

“You need to dress, Leticia, Meriweather sent a note, and he’s coming to speak to me,” her father said, walking into her room with her mother at his side “Your mother will begin making arrangements for the wedding. We’ll get a special license?—”

“No.” Letty’s voice was firm as she folded her arms across her chest. “I won’t be marrying Mr. Meriweather.”

“Have you gone mad?” her mother shouted, stepping closer to Letty. “You’ve been sneaking around with him for God knows how long and the moment that you’re discovered together, you decide that you don’t want to marry him?”

“I’m afraid you don’t have the luxury not to marry Meriweather.” Her father shook his head, suddenly looking old and fragile. “Oakfield is telling everyone who will listen that he caught you and Meriweather in the very act, and that he is the scorned fiancé?—”

“I never agreed to marry him or dance with him or anything!” Letty threw her hands in the air at the nerve of the baron.

She pointed to her mother. “This is all your fault for trying to push him on me.”

“Is it so wrong that I want you to have a husband with position and a title? So you won’t have to struggle like I did?” Her mother pressed her hands against her own chest.

“I’m starting to wonder if you really love father at all.” Letty let out a humorless laugh, staring at her mother’s wide eyes.

“Of course I love him! But I remember what it was like before I met your father, and I don’t want either of you to know such horrors.” Her mother wiped away her errant tears.

“Did you marry him for his title?” Letty asked, turning her back on her parents.

She’d had enough of their hypocrisy.

“Don’t you dare speak to your mother like that!” her father shouted at her retreating form.

Letty turned around facing him. She marched over to him, meeting his bright hazel eyes. “I’ll speak to both of you anyway I please! You with your conditional love and her insisting on an advantageous marriage,” she cried, unable to hide the pain of her father’s betrayal.

“I was only insisting on a match between you and Baron Oakfield because this world is not kind to women like us.” Her mother clutched at her heart.

Letty’s chest ached at the sight of her mother’s tears. She never fought with her parents, but she was tired of being amiable.

“I’d rather take my chances with the world than in this family,” Letty said storming away from her parents.

“We’ve always loved you and spoiled you and look what good that has done.” Her father shook his head, his shoulders slumped over in defeat.

“Your love comes with conditions, doesn’t it?” she asked, unable to stop her own tears. “As long as I’m the perfect daughter, amiable and without scandal, I can get anything I want, but the first time that I do anything not up to the great Earl of Pinerose’s standards, I’m disinherited. Replaced as if I were nothing. If that is your love, I don’t want it, Father.”

Her father stumbled back, his pale skin draining of all color. He looked like a ghost from one of the stories Cleo would tell her when they were children.

“That is not what I’m doing. I’m trying to protect you!” he shouted, slamming his fist in the hand of his palm.

“Protect me?” Letty tilted her head to the side, heart pounding in her chest. “Did you protect me from your heir? From yourself, who now deems me worthless and ruined?”

“What does Bertram have to do with this?” her mother demanded.

Letty’s mother was never a fan of her only stepson; his disdain for her and her daughters was apparent from the start.

“Yesterday, after you and the earl left the clearing, Bertram said that he arranged for Mr. Meriweather to ruin Letty so that he could receive Letty’s inheritance from the earl,” Cleo explained, playing with her fingertips.

“Is this true?’ her father asked.

“Yes, and that is why I will not marry Mac. If I am ruined, then so be it.” She held her head high, fighting against the despair trembling in her veins.

“Why did you not tell me?” Her father stepped toward her, taking her hand.

She pulled away, hating the pain in his gaze. “What does it matter? You chose to disinherit me, so I’m choosing to finally be true to myself.”

They all stood in silence for several moments, until there was a knock on the door.

“Enter,” her father said.

Penny walked into the room, her green eyes wide, fingers playing with her blonde hair.

“What is it?” her mother insisted in a harsh tone.

“Mr. Meriweather is here to see the earl.”

Her father turned striding toward the door. “I will speak with him alone. I expect you down in half an hour Letty.”

“Of course.”

Letty waited until her mother followed and then rushed to her wardrobe, pulling out the red gown.

“Help me dress, quickly.”

Mac stood in the elaborate entryway of the Earl of Pinerose’s townhouse, shuffling his weight from side to side as he peered down at the marble floors. His empty stomach churned with nerves as he stood between the two lifelike stone statues of Lord and Lady Pinerose.

Dear God, this was wealth like he never imagined.

What did he possibly have to offer her? If she would forgive him, the most he could offer her was a small apartment over a print shop. That wasn’t a life for a lady like Letty.

The short, stout butler returned. “The earl will see you in his office, sir.”

Mac followed the butler down the long hallway, taking in the many paintings of Letty and her family throughout the years. Each likeness of her brought a pang to his chest.

Remembering the utter devastation on her face the night before broke Mac in two. If only he’d had another moment before they were interrupted by Miss Hayward and Oakfield, then he would’ve confessed everything.

The butler opened a large wooden door, allowing Mac to walk in to find Pinerose standing at the sideboard, pouring two drinks.

The study was larger than Mac’s apartment, filled with more paintings of Letty and Lady Pinerose. It was clear the earl loved his wife and daughter very much. It was odd that there were no portraits of Cedemoor or Miss Hayward.

Pinerose handed Mac a glass before taking a seat at the large oakwood desk. “Why are you here?”

It was strange to see the cold look on Pinerose’s face. Usually, the earl had a happy disposition, but that was not the case as he stared at Mac like the other man had the plague.

His gaze swept over Mac’s unkempt form. Mac was aware that he looked awful. He hadn’t slept at all the previous night, and he’d been barely able to work at all. All he could think about was Letty and begging her for forgiveness.

Taking a large gulp of his brandy, he tried to find the courage that he needed to face both Pinerose and Letty. “I would like to apologize for my behavior at Vauxhall Gardens.”

“Which part would you like to apologize for?” the earl asked, leaning forward on his desk. “The part where you dishonored my daughter? Or the part where you took payment for it from my son?” Pinerose raised a white bushy eyebrow at Mac, waiting on his answer.

“Everything.” Mac swallowed, running a hand down his weary face. He needed sleep, but most importantly he needed Letty. “I should’ve approached you and informed you about my feelings for Lady Leticia as well as Cedemoor’s vendetta against her.”

“Yes, you should have. Why didn’t you?” The earl rose, walking to stand in front of Mac, his long form leaning against the edge of his desk.

“I’ve always believed that the one thing I wanted most in this world was my print shop and to fight for justice.” He looked up at the older man, noticing his similarities to his daughter. “I let it consume me, so much that I agreed before I even met Letty.” The nickname slipped past his lips, and Pinerose’s eyes widen slightly. “The moment I met her, everything in me changed, and I don’t care if I lose it all. I just want one more chance to be with the woman I love more than my very breath.”

“How do I know that you’re telling the truth now?” Pinerose placed his glass on his desk, his mouth in a firm thin line.

Mac sipped his own brandy, finishing the glass. He stood, not liking the other man’s dominant position over him. “If Lady Leticia forgives me and agrees to be my wife, I want you to add a clause in the marriage contract that I cannot touch her inheritance or dowry.”

“You’d do that for her?” he challenged Mac with raised eyebrows, his fingers grabbing at his chin.

Mac released a ragged breath, trying to hide the pitiful sob that escaped his lips. “Y-yes, I’ll do anything to prove to her that I’m sorry and that I love her.” His body trembled with the weight of his grief. “I-I’ll always love her,” he stuttered, his shoulders sagging in defeat.

A thin withered hand gripped Mac’s shoulder. “I can see you really care for my daughter, Meriweather. You’re not the first man who did something foolish all in the name of love, and I dare say you won’t be the last.”

The study door opened with a crash.

“Christopher, Letty’s gone!” Lady Pinerose shouted, running into the study with Miss Hayward behind her.

Mac’s heart plummeted to his abdomen, and suddenly he wished he’d eaten something that day. He felt ill, the room spinning. “Gone? Gone where?” he asked, willing his legs to move.

“Mother, I know where she’s gone. I will go after her, but please calm yourself,” Miss Hayward said, panting from running after her mother.

“Where is she?” Pinerose demanded of his stepdaughter.

“Pleasure House, she’s gone to Pleasure House.”

Bloody Hell.

“I’ll go!” Mac said striding toward the door.

“Take our carriage, Meriweather,” the earl said as he followed Mac down the hall.

Pleasure House, though not a complete den of iniquity, was not a place for an innocent like Letty. Mac ran out of the study without hesitation.

He had to find her and beg for forgiveness.