Because in the ton, marriages solved everything.
Nicolas had allowed no distraction and no weaknesses since those he hunted had enough power to cause him considerable loss if they ever discovered him.
As if to mock him, a wide-eyed stare behind round spectacles swam in his thoughts. He ruthlessly suppressed her image and the arousal she had stirred to life. It was a delicate balance, but one he had maintained for years, and he would not misplace his footing now. “Whenever this is over, I am leaving England for a couple of years.”
“Leave? And go where?”
“Sailing.”
“That’s it? Sailing?”
“Yes.” That was one of the only pastimes he allowed himself. Every now and then, he would head to Dover, take out his yacht, and sail, feeling the wind behind him, the sun or rain on his face, and an inexplicable sense of freedom hovering on the horizon.
“You are a madman,” David said with a laugh.
Nicolas smiled. “Miss me, will you?”
David snorted. Nicolas laughed and slapped his friend on the shoulder and then made his way out from the revelry and enticement of the club. It had been an unending day and an even longer night. He wanted to go home and fall into bed. And he wanted a deep sleep, one undisturbed by memory or guilt or one of the most painful things he would ever have to do—destroy the wolf.
Chapter Seven
The rumor would have started last night and spilled into society like fire on dry kindling. It was early yet, but those who had taken their obligatory stroll to be seen in Hyde Park would have stopped to gossip, and afternoon calls would be made scandalously early in drawing rooms to spread this latest ondit.
The bedchamber Nicolas St. Ives, Marquess of Rothbury had been seen sneaking from was that of Lady Maryann, a desperate wallflower, the daughter of the Earl and Countess of Musgrove.
“I am silly—no one would be that bold,” she said to herself as she hovered in the hallway leading to the dining room. “More likely they will say St. Ives’s mysterious lady is ‘one Lady M, daughter to the earl of M.’”
Then the ton would use that affirmation along with the whispers at the ball and drawing room to condemn her.
Squaring her shoulders, lifting her chin, she entered the dining room. Her father, mother, and brother were already seated and eating. From the lack of laughing and talking, Maryann gathered they were already aware of the rumors. Her mother always took an early morning ride in Hyde Park, and many would have been only too happy to drop their sly hints and suppositions.
Her mother’s light green eyes lit up in reserved welcome. She still retained a youthful bloom in her cheeks, and often dyed her hair to cover the smattering of gray that would otherwise appear at her temples. Her father sometimes remarked on how her mother retained her slender, elegant carriage despite having birthed two children.
Going to the side table laden with food, Maryann selected a plate and filled it with sweet buns and slices of succulent ham. Everyone watched as she took her place by the table, and to her shame she could not meet their eyes. She reached for a bun and bit into it instead, savoring the honeyed and cinnamon flavor bursting on her tongue.
Her papa cleared his throat, and she lifted her gaze to look at him.
His was more curious than angry. “It seems you are also aware of this rumor going about.”
“Yes, Papa.” I started it. She closed her eyes tightly, hating that there was an ache of tears in her throat and behind her eyes.
“Why do you appear so out of sorts?” he demanded gruffly.
“Because I brought scrutiny to our names,” she said, a hitch in her voice.
Anger flared in her father’s eyes. “I know you acted with admirable conduct. It is this blackguard, Rothbury, who had the nerve to enter your chamber and ruin your reputation! I can only imagine what he did, that bloody bas—”
“Philip,” her mother gasped, cutting off whatever improper word her husband was about to say.
“He did nothing, Papa,” Maryann hurriedly said. “This is only a rumor.”
The earl took a steady breath. “The marquess’s actions will not be allowed to go unanswered. I will visit him and demand that he comes up to scratch.”
Alarm scythed through her heart. “Papa!”
“I will not have that…that scoundrel marry my daughter!” her mother cried, staring at her husband in horror.
“Then he will meet me over dueling pistols.”
Maryann almost fainted. “He did not climb into my room, Papa! It is just a baseless rumor. There is no truth in it.”
Relief lit her father’s eyes, and with a sense of shock, she realized he was worried that she had been ravished. The marquess’s reputation was that dastardly. And of course, that was too much of a delicate conversation to have with her.
“He…Lord Rothbury was never in my chamber.” And curse it, she blushed, recalling every provocative and provoking instance of the man actually being in her room last night.
Her father’s eyes sharpened, and her mother appeared ready to swoon.
“Good heavens,” the countess breathed. “This…this man, really…he…I…”
“No, Mama, the rumors you are hearing…they are baseless. He did not steal into my chamber at Lady Peregrine’s house party. I spent most of my time with Ophelia.”
“We should never have sent you,” the countess moaned, her eyes tearing up. She cast a wrathful glance at Crispin, who seemed silenced with shock. “You were to have chaperoned your sister!”
“Even in her bedchamber, Mama?” her brother demanded in a choked whisper. “The marquess is reputed to be a crack shot, but I do not care! I will visit his club tonight and demand—”
“Stop!” Maryann cried. “There will be no duels or talks of duels because Lord Rothbury did not steal into my chamber! I…I started the rumor.”
Dear God. Her entire face flamed once again, and she wanted to slide under the table at her unguarded reaction.
The countess paled and simply stared at her. Her mama had a reputation of being very haughty and concerned with rules and propriety. Regret clutched at Maryann’s throat for the discomfort she was about to cause her family.
Her mother leaned back in her chair, her fork clattering to the table. Silence fell, and Maryann gazed at them miserably. Despite planning to mislead them, she could not hold her silence, not when they were talking of duels and marriage within the same breath. Not when she knew of her brother’s fierce protective instincts when it came to her. Maryann had thought they would have accepted her explanation that it was simply a rumor, but it wasn’t so.