Scandal Page 6

  Lord Stanwell nodded back and took another drink. "My father was in the midst of arranging a match between my oldest brother, Averil, and Lady Cordelia Fitch, the Duke of Kilminster's daughter, when the influenza took the prospective groom. Kilminster was, and still is, a man of enormous power, both socially and economically, and a match joining our families was a coup my father was loath to surrender, even in the face of my brother's death." He quaffed the remainder of his brandy in one long swallow, clearing his throat to soothe the sear of the liquor before resuming his explanation. Now staring into the empty tumbler, he continued. "Because my second brother also fell victim to the disease, I was now the heir and the duty fell to me to wed the girl."

  "And did the girl have nothing to say about the change in husbands?" Gideon inquired, appalled that a parent would so callously pawn his child.

  His lordship shrugged one shoulder. "She had no more choice in the matter than I did."

  "There is always a choice," Gideon reminded him harshly.

  "Not for a coward." Lord Stanwell looked up then, his eyes pleading for understanding. "You did not know my father, Harwood. I simply could not tell him about my marriage to Silvia. Had he even

  suspected that I was wed to a commoner, and to a lowly miller's daughter, no less, well, I do not even wish to speculate upon what he might have done. Besides, once I actually had the title in sight, I found

  that I rather wanted it. I-"

  "Wait." Gideon held up his hand to halt the other man's speech, unable to believe what he was hearing. "Exactly how was it that your father did not know of your marriage to Silvia? I cannot imagine how you could have hidden such an important matter from your family."

  "As a mere third son, my father wasted neither time nor thought on me. Indeed, he most probably would never have acknowledged my existence at all had my mother not insisted that he do so. After she died"-another shrug-"we spoke only when we met by chance. As long as I remained clear of scandal he was free to ignore me and I was at liberty to live my life as I pleased. Because of his disregard, he was ignorant of the fact that I owned Fellthwaite. You see, the estate was forfeited in lieu of a large debt owed to me at the gaming table and thus never numbered among the Barham properties. I still keep it separate for reasons I need not explain."

  The very thought of carrying on such a deception for so many years boggled Gideon's mind beyond all comprehension. So much so, that he could not keep a note of incredulity from creeping into his voice as he asked, "How in the world did you manage to keep your wives ignorant of each other's existence?"

  "It was far more simple than you might imagine, for Silvia had no interest in London, and Cordelia is interested in nothing else." He held up his empty glass, seeking permission to refill it. At Gideon's nod, he rose and made his way back to the sideboard. As he replenished his drink, he explained, "Silvia never questioned me when I attributed my frequent absences from Fellthwaite to business. She was a simple woman, who was content to live a quiet life in the country. As for Cordelia"-there was a clink of glass against glass as he replaced the stopper in the decanter- "I sometimes wondered if she even noticed my absences. Like many couples in the ton, we lead separate lives. That is not to say that we do not care for each other. Were I not so fond of her and our children, I would not be here."

  Though Gideon suspected that the visit had been prompted more from a sense of self-preservation than from any great love for his family, he let his lordship's pretense of devotion pass unchallenged. He did so not out of understanding or sympathy for the man's plight, but because he did not see it as his duty to bring him to justice. Indeed, considering the weight of his problems with his own family, doing so was the furthest thought from his mind. However, since his lordship was here and clearly feared what he might do with his damning knowledge, he might as well make him pay a small measure by letting him squirm like a worm on a fisherman's hook. With that punitive purpose in mind, he chuckled darkly and replied, "You mentioned a proposition earlier, one, I suppose, with which you intend to buy my silence?"

  His lordship nodded as he resumed his seat. "Yes. As I said, I am very fond of my family."

  "I shall judge how fond by the magnitude of your offer," Gideon countered. "Do proceed."

  His lordship drank deeply of his brandy, then said, "I know that you are an exceedingly wealthy man, Harwood. If the accounts of your fortune are true, then your wealth matches, or even exceeds, my own. In view of that fact, I realize that it would be foolish to attempt to buy your silence with money."

  "How very astute," Gideon interjected dryly. "So?"

  "So-" His lordship indulged in another tipple. "So, I am prepared to offer you something that you cannot, with all your wealth, buy. Something every man in your position covets but has no chance of gaining on his own."

  "Which is?" Gideon was genuinely intrigued and took no pains to hide the fact.

  "The ton. I am offering entree into London's highest circles."

  Gideon emitted a derisive snort. "You will have to do better than that if you expect me to remain silent. Please believe me when I say that I have no interest or use for the ton."

  "Do you not?" Lord Stanwell raised his wiry bronze eyebrows, his expression smugly challenging. "Think, man, think! Just imagine what such an opportunity could mean to your family, especially your sister."

  "Sisters," Gideon said, willing himself to ignore the other man's directive and the temptation it presented.

  "Sisters," Stanwell echoed with another significant lift of his brows. "All the more reason to consider my offer. With my patronage, your sisters will move in the highest circles, gain powerful friends, and make fine marriages. If I recall correctly, the women of your family are blessed with uncommon beauty. Such extraordinary looks paired with your wealth and my sponsorship should allow them to marry into the aristocracy. In short, they shall enjoy every advantage afforded those of noble rank, as will their children and all future generations. As for your brother, you are far more likely to find him with all doors open and every resource at your disposal."

  Of course his lordship was right. His family would benefit immensely from such an opportunity. Yet how could he, in good conscience, allow himself to profit from Lord Stanwell's sins? And that is exactly what he would be doing if he accepted the man's bribe. Then again, where was the real harm in doing so? Lady Silvia was dead and thus beyond being hurt by her husband's deception. As for Lady Stanwell, she was now his sole wife, though not his legal one since in the eyes of the law they were never truly wed. Gideon contemplated the troubling detail for several beats, seeking a way to right the wrong in his mind.

  Hmmm. Perhaps his acceptance of the bribe might not be so egregious if his lordship agreed to legally wed her ladyship. Indeed, in forcing his lordship to do so, he would actually be remedying the injustice done to the woman. Yes, and-

  No. No! Gideon gritted his teeth, his conscience springing forth to battle his temptation. It would be worse than wrong to accept such a bargain. It would be disgraceful- immoral. No. He would not entertain such an offer. He could not. Not if he wished to retain even a shred of honor and self-respect.

  In spite of his noble intentions, his resolve remained dangerously shaken as he growled, "Exactly how do you intend to work such a miracle, Stanwell? I doubt the ton will accept me on your say-so."

  His lordship shrugged, visibly unfazed by the prospect of what most men would view as an onerous task. "I am prepared to offer you my greatest prize, my treasure, to ensure your acceptance."

  "Which is?" Heaven help him, he had to ask.

  "Why, my daughter Julia, of course."

  "What!" Gideon more roared than uttered the word in his shock. That the man would sacrifice his daughter to save his own skin-good God! Was there no end to his villainy?

  Lord Stanwell smiled, clearly mistaking his outrage for startled surprise. "Yes, I am prepared to give you my dearest Julia's hand in marriage." He couldn't have looked smugger or surer of himself. "I pro
mise you, Harwood, you cannot lose with my daughter by your side. Not only is she a respected member of the haut ton, she is greatly admired for her charm and beauty. As such, she is naturally much sought after for a bride. To date she has had a dozen offers from noblemen of the first description, all of whom she refused. Her suitors were, of course, crushed by her rejection. Now if you were to win her, especially with my blessing"-he spread his hands to illustrate the magnitude with which the feat would be viewed-"why, the ton will most certainly clasp you to its bosom."

  "Yes, and you can rest secure in the knowledge that I shall never reveal your foul secret at the cost of branding my wife a bastard and myself as big a villain as you for entering into such an arrangement,"

  Gideon bit out.

  "That too," Stanwell confessed with a galling air of nonchalance. "Nonetheless, it will be you who will be coming out on the winning end of our bargain."

  "Provided that your daughter will accept an offer from me. And what makes you so certain that she will do so?" Not that he would ever consider such a marriage. Of course not. Not only would it be dishonorable to do so, he simply was not attracted to the girl, who in his opinion was insipid in both looks and manner.

  Now visibly certain of victory, his lordship replied, "She will wed you because I shall command her to do so. She is a malleable chit." Before Gideon could respond, he added, "I can promise you that Julia is everything you could wish in a bride. Not only is her breeding impeccable, she has been thoroughly schooled in the wifely arts. Thus she is prepared to manage your household, supervise your servants, and regulate your family. Why, just imagine how your sisters will benefit from her example." He nodded, his smile coaxing. "Think, Harwood. Just think! Under her tutelage they will learn how to go about in society and show themselves at their best advantage. I guarantee that they will blossom into perfect ladies under Julia's direction."

  Gideon did think. He thought about the letter he had received from Bethany the day before expressing her despair over Bliss's ungovernable nature and her own inability to curb it. Poor, sweet Bethany. She was hardly in a state fit to deal with their young sister's wildness. Then again, it seemed as if no one was. That the three seasoned governesses he had thus far employed to tame the child had failed to last in their positions more than a fortnight spoke volumes of the trouble he had on his hands. Could Lady Julia Barham, perhaps, be the solution to his problem?

  The moment the thought entered his mind, Gideon tried to dismiss it. Yet it refused to leave. After all that his sisters had suffered from his neglect, he owed them the best life he could give them. And the best in life went beyond the obvious material effects, all of which he had already given them. The best meant comfort, happiness, and peace. That being the case, would it really be so very wrong to wed Lady Julia Barham if doing so meant buying Bethany the peace she would gain from knowing that Bliss was in guiding hands? As for the incorrigible Bliss, she could not help but to be improved by Lady Julia's refined ways, and such improvement would most certainly add to her happiness. And they would all benefit from the comfort to be derived from him having a properly trained wife to set right the shambles he presently called his estate. The more he weighed the advantages of the union against the eternal damnation he would no doubt suffer for entering into the bargain, the further his resolve slipped.

  "Well?" Lord Stanwell pressed. "Have we an agreement?"

  Gideon shook his head. He had to be sure. "Not so fast. What guarantee do I have that your daughter will take my sisters and household in hand, and do so with the proficiency you claim her to possess? Do not forgot that I have met the girl, and she strikes me as overly young to have much experience in such matters."

  "She is twenty, hardly a child by anyone's measure. However, to answer your question, her experience with children comes from her dealings with her younger siblings, to whom, I feel compelled to point out, she is selflessly devoted. She spends much of her day in their nursery granting them guidance and counsel. Everyone who sees her with them comments upon her natural fondness and talent for managing children. She is firm, but kind. As for her experience in household matters, I can say only that she has done admirably on those occasions when she has been called forth to manage our home in her mother's absence."

  "That is hardly what I call a guarantee," Gideon countered, though he had to admit she sounded ideal. What did it matter that he found her physically less than alluring?

  Lord Stanwell nodded. "Very well, then. If she fails to perform in her domestic duties as promised, you have my word that I shall rectify the situation by personally seeing to it that you have the best housekeeper, abigail, and governess to be had in all of England. The best servants naturally reserve their services for the aristocracy."

  "Naturally," Gideon murmured dryly.

  "So you see? You cannot lose."

  "Perhaps not on that score," he said, his eyes narrowing as he was struck by a new and exceedingly important consideration. "However, you seem to have forgotten one small detail in all of this. Bethany and Caleb both lived in Fellthwaite, and often saw you in the village. No doubt they will recognize you and guess at your secret."

  "Not if you tell them that I am a relative of the master of Fellthwaite Village. If you do so straightaway, marveling at the rare coincidence that has made the daughter of a distant cousin of Lord Gilbert catch your eye, they will believe you easily enough. Indeed, why would they not? Besides, as my wife mentioned at Vauxhall, Barham men all bear a striking resemblance to one another. I might also add that

  four of us are currently named Gilbert, after one of our more illustrious ancestors. Those details coupled with the fact that I have changed much over the years-" He broke off with a sweep of his hand. "So you see? You truly cannot lose."

  "So it would seem," Gideon said, considering his words. Lord Stanwell was correct in that he had changed a great deal since Bethany and Caleb had last seen him. So much so that he, himself, most probably would not have recognized him had he passed him on a London Street, displaced from the familiar setting of Fellthwaite. His lordship was also accurate in that they would believe him to be a mere relative of the village's master if he, their brother, told them that it was so.

  "Then you accept?"

  Gideon held up his hand. "On three conditions." Good God! Was he really considering entering into the sordid bargain? The answer was yes. He would enter into a bargain with the devil himself if in doing so it would benefit his family.

  "The conditions?" his lordship quizzed.

  "Number one." He held up one finger. "You must remarry Lady Stanwell, make her your legal wife."

  Lord Stanwell chuckled and drained the remaining contents of his glass. "Already done. I have convinced her ladyship that I wish to marry her all over again to demonstrate to the ton how much I adore her. Being a female, she naturally finds the notion impossibly romantic." Another chuckle, this one accompanied by a head shake. "With the plans she is making to celebrate the occasion, it is certain to be the event of the Season. As my future son-in-law, you will, of course, be invited."

  "Of course," Gideon muttered, not relishing the notion.

  "Your second condition?"

  "Number two." He flashed two fingers. "Our marriage must look like a love match to the world. Only then will my family gain genuine acceptance into the ton. This means that I must court your daughter, and she must pretend to become infatuated with me. At least when we are in public." He only hoped that he was up to the charade. It was going to take an extraordinary talent for acting to convincingly feign interest in the tedious milk-and-water miss.

  His lordship's lips curved into a most reassuring smile. "As I said, Julia will do as I say, and I shall instruct her to dote upon you as if you are the answer to her maiden's prayer. Who knows? Perhaps she will find you so. You are not without certain manly charms, or so my wife informed me last night." He chuckled and shook his head. "Females."

  Gideon smiled back tautly. "For my part, I promise to show your d
aughter every kindness and consideration due to her as my wife." Not that he truly thought Lord Stanwell cared how he treated the girl. Nonetheless, he had every intention of honoring his vow, and he genuinely hoped that the chit would find a measure of happiness within their union.

  "Your third condition?" his lordship asked, impatiently waving aside Gideon's honorable pledge. Ah, fatherly love.

  "Number three." Three fingers. "Your daughter must agree to be unfailingly kind to my sisters. She must understand that they are my first consideration, and that my sole purpose for entering into this marriage is for the advantages it will bring them."

  "Of course. Of course." Lord Stanwell bobbed his head several times to the affirmative. "She shall be the soul of benevolence."

  Gideon gazed at the other man for several moments, coming to terms with what he was about to do. Then he sighed and nodded. "Very well."

  "Then we have a bargain?" His lordship could not have looked more triumphant.

  "If all my conditions are met, yes." Heaven help him. He had just sold his soul to the devil.

  Chapter 5

  "It is barbaric, and I shall not allow it," Julia exclaimed in shocked accents as she gazed at her sister Jemima, who stood at the end of the long schoolroom table reciting a particularly laborious selection from Shakespeare's sonnets. To her horror, the eight-year-old child was strapped in a "spider," as the torturous iron collar and backboard combination was commonly referred, a painful, posture-perfecting device that Julia herself had been forced to endure every day of her young life between the ages of six and twelve.

  The perpetrator of the outrage, her aunt Aurelia, who presently lorded over the cheerless schoolroom from a comfortable leather wing chair at the head of the table, rose at the sound of her voice. A tall, aristocratically beautiful woman with rich auburn hair and the striking amber Barham eyes, Aurelia could not have looked more elegant or icily remote than she did at the moment, standing ramrod straight in her simple yet fashionable gown of brown and cream linen. Now poised for what had become her daily confrontation with her eldest niece, she snapped, "The board is necessary, Julia. The child stoops." Her frigid gaze shifted to Jemima, her razor-edged voice sharpening with accusation as she added, "Had the willful chit not ignored my repeated admonishments to stand straight, I would not have been required to resort to such measures. As it is"-a dismissive shrug-"she shall grow accustomed to the device by and by, and in time will hardly be aware that she is wearing it."