A Scandalous Situation

Chapter Four

R ob followed Lord Rosley into his library, uncomfortably aware of the latter’s suspicious manner, but not overly concerned. Of course the Viscount was worried about what had happened to his daughter over the last two days—and would be more worried when he discovered that she had been the only woman in the house. But Rob knew exactly how to make allaying the older man’s fears a simple matter.

He had given it a great deal of thought in the last day or two. As a gentleman who had carried a young, unmarried lady into a compromising situation, he would be expected to offer for her. And that certainly was to be preferred to finding himself facing one of her male relatives across pistols at dawn. But was he ready to do that? Did he want to marry this particular lady? Or might that prove a disaster for both of them?

On balance, he decided that it would not. He felt a need for a companion. A great many marriages were contracted on no acquaintance at all. And he found Miss Kethley a very interesting companion—talented, intelligent, beautiful. He was a bit troubled about her habit—apparently a very persistent habit—of wandering about the fells alone. But perhaps if he provided her with some of the adventure she craved, she would tolerate him as an escort.

And he had given a great deal of thought to the fact that she seemed to avoid being touched. A wife with such an aversion might make for a rather chilly bed. Not something with which he wanted to saddle himself for the rest of his life. He hoped he wasn’t thinking like a cockscomb to believe that he could overcome that prejudice. Rob smiled to himself. After all, he had succeeded in getting her to dance with him. Surely he could succeed in…

He just hadn’t wanted to marry again yet.

But Lord Rosley was speaking. “Take that chair, Duncan.” His lordship eased himself into a similar chair and carefully lifted one slippered foot onto a low stool. “May I offer you some Madeira? I’ll ask you to serve yourself.” He winced. “Damned gout!”

“Thank you. May I serve you some as well?” Rob went to the desk and lifted the decanter. Was that a growl issuing from his prospective father-in-law?

“Might as well. The curst quacks say it aggravates the curst gout, but I can’t see that it makes a curst bit of difference to leave it off.”

Rob poured two glasses. Hmm. Not a propitious moment to be attempting to mollify a distrustful father. A man suffering the agony of gout was not likely to be amenable to reason. But then again, neither was he likely to call one out into a snowy dawn.

Rob handed a glass to his lordship and returned to his chair. Time to resort to plain speaking. “My lord, please allow me to reassure you as to your daughter’s welfare. On my honor, she took no hurt at my hands. Nor was she injured in the snowslides. She must have had bruises, but she did not complain of them.”

“No, she wouldn’t.” Lord Rosley shifted his limb on the footstool and grimaced. “In her way she is a very strong young lady.”

“I noticed that.” Especially while she was pointing a pistol in my direction. “Her appearance is deceptive. One would not think…”

“There are many things about Iantha that one would not think.” Her father stared thoughtfully into the fire for a moment.

“The thing is…” Rob cleared his throat uneasily. This was the tricky part. “I believe that the most difficult circumstance of the situation for her was that I have only just returned from India and have not even a housekeeper to act as my hostess. Of course, we showed her every courtesy, but she seemed very distressed.”

“I can imagine.” Rosley sipped his wine, giving Rob a calculating glance over the rim of his glass. “Then you are not married?”

“No, sir. I am a widower.” There it was. The marriage hint. Rob drew a deep breath. “I would, however, be honored to make Miss Kethley my wife.”

“As you should be.” His lordship stared at him silently for several heartbeats.

Now what exactly did he mean by that? Rob sipped his own wine and awaited a further response. It was not forthcoming. He frowned. “I realize, of course, that my title is not the equal of yours and that I have engaged in trade for the last few years, but I can keep your daughter in comfort. I feel certain you would want my man of business to call upon yours to assure yourself of that fact.”

Lord Rosley waved a dismissive hand. “No, no. You misunderstand me. I daresay you can keep her, not only in comfort, but in luxury. Rumor has it that you are coming home a very wealthy man—a nabob, in fact. And your family has carried your title longer than mine has been in possession of ours. I have no objection to a man’s engaging in honest trade. All of us invest in various enterprises. Don’t know why we quibble at trade.”

He turned to gaze again into the fire. Rob waited. At last his lordship sighed and looked at Rob. “I meant only that any man should be honored to have Iantha for a wife. She is a fine young woman.” He moved his foot again, using both hands this time. “And I am comforted by your willingness to act as a gentleman and do the proper thing. I would be extremely happy to see her married to a man of your caliber.”

“But…?” Rob raised his eyebrows.

“But there is a circumstance you should know. I will understand, of course, if you wish to withdraw your offer.”

Rob’s eyebrows climbed higher. “I’m listening.”

Rosley nodded, then continued with the air of a man speaking between clenched teeth. “When Iantha was eighteen, she was attacked by a gang of…” His fist struck the arm of his chair. “I know no word foul enough for them. But not to wrap it up in clean linen—she was raped by several masked men. She does not even know how many.”

“My God!” Rob’s lips drew back in a snarl. “The… You are correct. No word filthy enough for them exists. No wonder she cannot endure the touch of a man.”

“Nor of anyone else. She even draws back from her mother when she seeks to comfort her. She shows physical affection only to her younger sister and brothers, but even with Thomas, since he is becoming a man…” Lord Rosley shook his head sadly.

For a moment Rob sat stunned by the enormity of the incident. That explained the proliferation of pistols. How had such a slight lady even survived? His own fist came down on his chair arm as a dark fury welled up in him. Had he but five minutes alone with each of those bastards…!

But he would not have that.

Rob took a long breath and let the anger flow out of him. “How did this happen?”

Rosley took a fortifying sip of wine. “It was the fall before she was to come out in the spring season. My oldest daughter, Andrea, was expecting a baby, and of course, Lady Rosley intended to go to her. But as bad luck would have it, Valeria and Nathaniel were both taken ill with the measles and needed her care. Complications developed. The children were very sick.”

He paused in his tale, deep feeling marking his face. “Iantha had already had the measles, so was in no danger of communicating them to Andrea, who had not. She wanted to see the child and London—get a feel for town before her come-out. So I consented to her going to help her sister. I would have accompanied her, of course, but I have never had the damn measles, either. Still haven’t had them. To be safe, I sent her in our own coach with a coachman, a footman and two armed outriders. And her old nurse as her chaperon.”

He stopped again, his voice choked with emotion. Rob waited silently and respectfully. After a time his lordship again took up the story. “They shot all four men from ambush and tied them to the wheels of the coach. One of them died. The nurse they killed out of hand.”

Now he ceased speaking altogether, bowed his head and covered his eyes with one hand. Rob’s heart ached with sympathy, and he wiped a tear from his own eye. “Lord Rosley, I can only imagine what you feel, but I believe I have some idea. I lost my daughter to illness.”

“Then perhaps you can comprehend.” The older man lifted his head. “To be laid by the heels here while those devils tormented my sweet Iantha… A day does not pass that I am not consumed by guilt.” He closed his eyes, his jaw tight.

What a horror for a father! Rob well understood the guilt, too, and the helplessness of not being able to save his child. It always seemed that there should have been something he could have done. He gave Lord Rosley a moment to compose himself, and then asked, “The authorities have never apprehended these villains?”

Lord Rosley shook his head. “Strangely, they have not. I hired Bow Street to pursue the matter, but they made no progress at all, even though they tell me that several similar incidents occurred at different places around the country that same year. I suspect the detectives’ lack of success has to do with the fact that the gang had all the accoutrements of—” he sneered and spat the word out “—gentlemen. They are not the ordinary rascals with whom Bow Street usually deals.”

“The runners are limited in whom they can question.”

“Exactly. Iantha has since received threatening and gloating letters couched in the vilest language. Thank God that she did not completely understand the words and thus brought them to me.”

Rob’s brows drew together as anger rose again in him. “What! Does she still receive them?”

“I’m not sure. I suspect she does and destroys them because they distress her mother and me. I have sent the ones that came into my hands to the runners, but they cannot trace them.”

It seemed the horror had no end. Now Rob understood the sadness in the lady’s eyes. Not only the sanctity of her body, but her security and, indeed, her whole future had been ripped from her just as the bud of her womanhood was opening. How had she endured it at all? What unbelievable strength! His desire to comfort her, to shield her, grew. He could not bring his family back, but he could protect this gallant, injured wraith.

“Have I your permission to speak to her?”

“Of course, if you still wish to.” Rosley shook his head sadly. “But she won’t have you.”

Iantha gazed at Lady Rosley in the dresser mirror while she lovingly arranged her hair. Iantha knew that her mother performed that service as a way of being near her. “But Mama…I can’t. You know I can’t. I could not stand it, and it wouldn’t be fair to Lord Duncan.”

“Please, Iantha. Do not refuse the offer without giving it a chance. I would so like to see you established in your own home. You are too fine a woman to dwindle into an aunt, and you know that—” Lady Rosley broke off and glanced at her youngest daughter, who sat on a footstool, leaning against Iantha.

“That I will never have another opportunity.” Iantha stroked her little sister’s hair. “I suspect that I will not have this opportunity, either, Mama. Papa is bound to have told him.”

“Told him what?” Valeria looked up at her mother. “What are you two talking about?”

“Nothing that would interest you, dearest. But look, you have a spot on your dress.” Lady Rosley patted the girl’s shoulder. “Go and ask Miss Harrington to help you change, and you and Nathaniel may sit in the drawing room with us before dinner and visit with Lord Duncan.”

Valeria skipped out of the room. When the door had closed behind the child, her mother directed her attention to Iantha. “Of course your father will tell Lord Duncan about your…situation. It would hardly be honorable not to do so.”

Iantha grimaced. “No, one cannot honorably deal in damaged goods without revealing their defects.”

“Oh, Iantha, darling!” Lady Rosley dropped to the footstool vacated by Valeria and clasped one of Iantha’s hands, gazing intently into her face. “Don’t say that! Please don’t. You are not d-damaged goods. You are not! You are good and sweet and…” Tears welled in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Mama. That was unkind of me. I did not intend to wound you so.” Iantha tightened her jaw and willed her own tears to remain unshed. “But we both know how men feel about this…situation.”

Her mother patted her hand. “I do know, dear. But I have a very good feeling about Lord Duncan. He seems…different somehow. I do not believe he will fail you.”

“But I would fail him.” Iantha shook her head. “Even if I were willing to trap him into marriage with the excuse of the last two days—which I am not, Mama!—I would not be able to perform the duties of a wife. You know I could not.”

Lady Rosley sighed. “Iantha. What can I say to you? I do understand your hesitation. But, dear…” She paused for a moment, apparently choosing her words. “But, dear, the duties of a wife, as you called them, need not be unpleasant. In fact…” To Iantha’s astonishment, her mother’s face turned deep rose to the roots of her silver hair. “In fact, the marriage bed can be a great source of pleasure and comfort to…to both parties.” She gazed earnestly into her daughter’s face. “I would like for you have that comfort for yourself.”

What a great effort that admission had cost her reserved mother. Iantha smiled at her fondly. “Thank you, Mama. I will speak with him.”

In the unlikely event that I have that opportunity.

Rob sat in the drawing room listening to Thomas, resplendent in an elaborate cravat and a shockingly puce waistcoat, explain how it was that he had been sent down from Oxford until after Christmas. “It was a silly prank. I can’t think how I allowed myself to become involved.”

Rob nodded, suppressing a smile. How mature the young man sounded. Now. After the damage was done. “I myself found it discouragingly easy to become involved in silly pranks. Some sillier than others.” The smile crept up the corners of his mouth. “Some very silly, indeed. I’m afraid I accounted for a large number of my father’s gray hairs.”

“Well, yes, I suppose I have done my share for Papa. But I have apologized, and Papa says that my allowance will resume next quarter day, so that my pockets will not be quite to let when I go back.” The boy sighed.

“No doubt a mistake on my part,” drawled Lord Rosley. “I am, in all likelihood, funding more mischief.”

“Oh, no, Papa. I have promised not to get sent down again before summer. Honor of a Kethley. Besides…” The look the young assume when they believe they have been unfairly used invaded his face. “I have not done so nearly so often as John did.”

“God be praised.”

At Lord Rosley’s dry rejoinder, Rob’s ready laughter escaped him in a loud burst. “I see that rearing sons is a challenging undertaking.”

At that moment the ladies entered, and all three gentlemen got to their feet, Lord Rosley with some effort. He subsided gratefully into his chair as soon as his wife and daughter had been seated. A few steps behind them, the schoolroom party arrived under escort of Valeria’s governess. Rob came to his feet again and made a bow as Lord Rosley presented his youngest progeny.

“Your most obedient servant, Miss Valeria. Nathaniel.” Rob shook the boy’s hand and solemnly kissed the girl’s petite fingers, smiling at the ensuing blush. “Would you like to sit here?” He pulled a chair forward and placed it beside his own. Not to be outdone in honor, Nathaniel quickly drew his own seat near.

Rob studied the young lady perched demurely at his side, her eyes fixed shyly on the hands in her lap. Her honey-blond hair contrasted sharply with Laki’s long black curls, but the long thick lashes rested on her cheek just as his own little girl’s had done.

Rob missed his little daughter. How old would Laki have been by now? No need to calculate. He knew to the day. Only seven. The familiar lump rose in his throat. Five years was much too short a life.

While her mother conversed with Thomas and her father tried in vain to achieve a comfortable position for his afflicted foot, Iantha watched Lord Duncan quietly from her place across the room. First he engaged Nathaniel in a lively discussion of hunting. A very manly conversation, indeed.

One that Thomas could not resist joining, but his lordship gave the same grave attention to Nat’s opinion of Peel’s hounds as he did that of his big brother. Iantha smiled as her youngest brother swelled almost visibly with increasing importance. Lord Duncan certainly knew how to make a friend of him!

Then, by some means or other, he drew Valeria into the conversation. From her giggles and blushes and a few overheard words, Iantha deduced that the subject now had to do with prospective beaux. Even a few scornful comments from Nathaniel did not seem to dim the girl’s pleasure. Unmistakable signs of incipient hero-worship blossomed on both the youngsters’ faces. Yes, his lordship could definitely win children.

But she detected no sign that he felt any differently about damaged goods than any other man.

The dinner party quickly took on the air of a quiet celebration for the return of the lost. Even Lord Rosley managed a quip or two. His lady beamed at all of them. Rob did his jovial best, but his gaze persisted in traveling to Miss Kethley, who smiled silently and bestowed her attention on her food, presenting little clue to her thoughts. The interesting companion with whom he had dined at the Eyrie had retreated behind her wall of mannerly restraint.

What made him think she would entertain an offer from him? Perhaps he would be better advised to let the matter drop. But if he did that, she would certainly believe that he had changed his mind because of her misfortune. He despised that sort of thinking. He would never hold against her something over which she had no control. Men who were themselves the worst sort of rake seemed always the first to condemn women.

Rob did not intend to count himself in their number.

But her father had said she would not have him.

Well, they would see about that.

At last Lady Rosley rose from the table, and she and Miss Kethley turned to leave the room. Rob stood and cleared his throat. “If Lord Rosley and Thomas will forgive me for not sharing their port, I would like to have a few words with Miss Kethley, if I may.”

“To be sure.” His lordship nodded. “The sawbones says I can’t drink port now, in any event, and Thomas will be the better for tea. We will join Lady Rosley.” He struggled to his feet, reaching for his cane.

Rob offered Miss Kethley his arm, and she, with her usual hesitation, took it and directed him to a small parlor adjacent to the dining room. He could feel tension radiating from her body through her slender arm. He patted her hand comfortingly, but did not speak until they were ensconced before a cozy fire.

He would have preferred to share the sofa with her for this occasion, but she moved immediately to the chairs flanking the fireplace. Rob pulled the chairs closer together—near enough to face her across a much shorter distance. Deciding against taking her hand, he leaned forward with his forearms on his knees.

“Miss Kethley, I feel sure you know what I wish to discuss with you.”

She held up a hand, palm outward, her expression serious. “Please, Lord Duncan. There is no need for this conversation. I appreciate your willingness to act as a gentleman, but I would not ensnare you simply because you had the ill fortune to save me from a storm. I have told you—my reputation is not at stake.” She glanced at the fire, then down at her hands. “And I…I am sure my father told you…”

“About the terrible outrage you endured? Aye, he told me. And I have no desire to further the injustice done to you afterward.”

She raised her eyes to his. “What do you mean?”

“That I see no justice whatever in denying you the home and family you deserve simply because a set of blackguards chose to work their perverted will on you.”

“Plain speaking, indeed, my lord.”

“And why not? Their actions confer no shame on you.”