Laura Carroll Butler Read online

  The social circle she now inhabited was very concerned that they appear honorable and concerned with the public welfare; she found out quickly that it was mostly for show. In private they were hedonistic and completely self-absorbed. Davis occasionally complained about the hypocrisy of some of his colleagues in Lords who espoused the virtue of men being in control of their destiny when they meant only aristocratic, landowning men like themselves and not the general public. But while he would complain at home, he was always civil in public.

  Michael, on the other hand, was sincere in his derisiveness. He was sanguine in his lack of a good reputation and this made him unchallengeable. But he forgot sometimes, that not everyone in his world was as secure.

  Rebecca was an unfortunate accomplice to Michael’s mocking. On an afternoon walk in Berkeley Square, he grabbed her hand and kissed her full on the mouth just as the carriage of an especially snobbish and ancient Duchess passed them. Rebecca was flustered and her first impulse was to slap him, but Michael whispered “Now watch.” The Duchess, who had slowed her carriage, popped her head out of the window and stared, her face screwed up in contempt. “Lovely day for a walk wouldn’t you say, Duchess?” Michael said, nonchalantly tipping his hat at her. Rebecca was mortified that Michael had so compromised her reputation. What would Davis think? She immediately started for home, refusing to speak with Michael who kept in step, chuckling at his little joke.

  When she arrived home, she told Johanna what had happened and was puzzled that she found the incident amusing. “It’s time someone stuck it to the old crow,” were her exact words. Johanna explained to Rebecca that the Duchess was a notoriously unreliable gossip and crazy as a loon. She would repeat what she saw and it would drive her mad that no one would take her seriously. Nevertheless, Rebecca fretted until she could explain herself to Davis. She was annoyed that Davis was amused as well. She considered being angry with them all, but Michael’s sincere apology appeased her.

  After that, he was more careful with her, though he did enjoy filling her in on all the dirt about her new friends. He was fun and flattering and she enjoyed the attention of someone dear to Davis.

  Everything was perfect. If not in name yet, she was living the life of Baroness Edderle and truly enjoying the perks. The only thing missing was a burgeoning level of physical affection from Davis.

  Davis seemed to enjoy being with her. Their conversations were no longer superficial. They talked of the events of the day. He asked her opinion on matters before Lords. She read the Public Advertiser daily, enjoying the politics as she had never expected she would. It was exciting that he valued her opinions and she stifled the voice of her mother advising her to say only what Davis wanted to hear. Though he might disagree with her conclusions, he still encouraged her to speak her mind.

  He escorted her to supper, to the drawing room, and to her room ending each night with a chaste kiss. Since the day at the estate when he had caressed her so tenderly, he had been a complete, respectful gentleman. Unfortunately, her passion was stirred and she found her desire for more of him, his kiss and his touch, left her with a sensuous ache. In his presence, her heart beat a little faster and she felt breathless and warm. At night, it was worse.

  *************************

  Two things changed the placidness, both involving Michael. Susanne, constantly focused on her budding relationship with Gordon, found herself confiding in the only person who could tolerate him: Michael. He was initially amused by her guilelessness about Gordon. He was familiar with Gordon Wilborn and knew that Susanne’s devotion was misplaced.

  Susanne was not the only woman Gordon spent his time with. Like Michael, Gordon was constantly short of funds; unlike Michael, though, Gordon would not be coming into a family fortune. The Wilborn’s had spent a considerable amount of money securing Gordon’s commission, but their money was dwindling fast due to bad investments. He required a wealthy wife to finance any future commissions.

  But Susanne was so young and very much left to her own devices. Michael could see that she and Rebecca were close, but Rebecca had her own stresses between running a household and planning a wedding. Her mother remained at Tundle, coming to London only once since the Season ended. Sarah seemed impatient with Susanne’s infatuation with Gordon. Very often, he found Susanne in another room, quietly embroidering during much of her mother’s visit.

  Michael saw Susanne as a fragile young woman wanting only someone to love and care for her. Maybe it was her hopeless devotion to a man who was a bigger bastard than himself or her complete obliviousness to Michael’s charms. When Susanne was around, he was intoxicated.

  He had not counted on Davis’ reaction.

  “You could have any bloody woman in London--and probably have--but why does she have to be someone under my roof?”

  What started out as just another conversation with his best friend about just another woman quickly became an argument. Michael didn’t flaunt his conquests, but Davis was aware of how prolific he was. Nevertheless, he had never criticized Michael’s behavior or choice of women.

  “I didn’t expect this to bother you, Davis. Is it because she’s Rebecca’s sister?” Michael asked, ignoring the feeling that he shouldn’t need to be defending himself.

  “There is that also!” Davis added. “And she’s very young, not just in years, but also maturity. You’ve seen how she behaves, mooning over some good-for-nothing, drinking too much, acting irresponsibly!”

  “Have you tried to understand why she is that way?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Michael; you’re not interested in her mind. Except for Johanna, you’ve slept with every woman you’ve been friends with.”

  Davis was harsh and he was almost correct. Michael’s relationships always became physical; when they became emotionally demanding, he broke them off. Except for Johanna; Rebecca didn’t count. But there was something more in how he felt when he thought of Susanne. He enjoyed being around her, even as he was frustrated that she didn’t really see him. But Davis knew him better than anyone. “Maybe you are right, Davis. I suppose I’m just attracted to her because she is so frivolous,” he said, hoping to alleviate Davis’ anger at him.

  “She does not have the best judgment, Michael. But,” he laughed sarcastically, “I suppose you two have that in common.”

  Michael was cowed by Davis’ reaction. “I won’t touch her, Davis. But why does this upset you so?” He laughed carelessly. “You’re not in love with her, are you?”

  “Of course I don’t love her!” Davis quickly answered. “Why would you think such a thing?”

  “I didn’t. Not really. But this bothers you so much and I don’t understand why.”

  Davis paused then smiled calmly. “It could become uncomfortable for Rebecca to have her sister involved in an illicit affair right under her nose. Susanne has done so much in the past to embarrass her; it wouldn’t be fair to Rebecca.” Michael seemed placated. “Besides, I don’t expect Susanne to remain here much longer; she expects that beau of hers to sweep her off her feet and take her with him to wherever he is stationed next.”

  “We all know that would be a mistake.”

  “Mistake or not, as soon as Rebecca and I are married, Susanne will be moving out. Right now, she’s just a familiar face to help Rebecca adjust to her new status.” Davis sensed that Michael remained unconvinced so he added, “Chase her when she’s moved out unless her charms have worn off by then.”

  But Michael couldn’t deny his attraction and didn’t see any reason to live like a monk. He began to spend his evenings out of the house and away from Susanne. Sometimes he stayed out all night, returning after supper. Sometimes he stayed away for days.

  No one else knew of the disagreement between Davis and Michael. Johanna’s various suitors provided her with some distraction. But for Rebecca, Davis and Susanne, Michael’s absence affected them directly and differently.

  Rebecca missed Michael’s carefree nature and now realized how much he was able
to balance Davis’ seriousness. Davis was suddenly and uncharacteristically aggravated with everyone and quick-tempered.

  Susanne was more acutely affected; she had lost the one person who actually listened to her and didn’t judge her. When their paths actually crossed, only once when he happened to be by for supper, Michael was courteous to her, but no more so than he was to anyone else. Before he left, he slipped her a note. She put it aside to read later and in her excitement over seeing Gordon again, forgot it.

  To her surprise and delight, Davis asked her to invite Gordon over once again. This time, Gordon was on his best behavior, but Rebecca still didn’t care for him. She could tell by Davis’ reserved politeness that his opinion had also not changed. Later, when she asked why he had wanted Gordon to come over, he said simply, “Don’t you want your sister be happy?”

  Rebecca believed Davis’ sudden testiness had something to do with Michael. For days she tried to be more vigilant to Davis’ needs, hoping to shake him out of his disagreeable mood, but he didn’t notice. Then she wondered if Davis was envious of Michael’s freedom and that he no longer wanted to marry her. The gossip she heard indicated that Michael had a new lover, a young lady in the East End whose husband had his own relationship. It was sordid to Rebecca, but maybe not to Davis. After all, men were different.

  One morning, two weeks after Michael’s absences began, she saw Davis watching Susanne leave the room with an unfamiliar look on his face. Was it contempt jealousy, or, dear God, lust? She needed to know what had happened, but the matter had to be approached delicately.

  “Darling,” she said, her fingers lightly brushing his hand playfully, “Are you feeling well?”

  He looked at her in puzzlement. “Of course, I’m fine. What an odd question?”

  “You just seem so tense these days. I wonder if you might be working too hard.”

  “My work,” he said cynically, “is never difficult. I sit, I listen, I give my opinion.”

  “Then is it something else, darling?”

  “Rebecca,” he sighed in exasperation, “Please get to your point.”

  “Davis.” She paused in hesitation. “You do still love me, don’t you?”

  “Of course I love you,” he answered too quickly. “I’m marrying you, aren’t I?”

  It was not the answer she had expected. As soon as Davis spoke, he regretted his tone. Rebecca removed her hand from his and immediately replaced the shock in her face with her normal pleasant expression. “Of course,” she said.

  “Rebecca, please don’t be that way,” he said.

  She shook her head, still smiling patiently. “I don’t understand, Davis. What way?”

  “As though what I said didn’t hurt you.”

  She swallowed hard, wanting to cry, but refusing to. Something was wrong, she knew, but crying wasn’t going to make it better.

  “I’m sorry,” Davis said, taking her hand gently. “I don’t mean to be so harsh with you. I am under a lot of stress and I know that I am not handling it well. Will you forgive me?”

  “Of course, darling.” He kissed her on the forehead and left quickly.

  But Rebecca thought of nothing else all day. If the very nearness of him caused her to wonder about the feel of his skin next to hers, how glorious it would be to be wrapped in his arms, could the ache be just as great for him? Her mother said men were different when it came to physical intimacy. Their needs could be satisfied with just the act and that emotion meant little to them. Davis was an honorable man, but a man nonetheless; a man just like her father and she knew what he had been like. There had never been affection between Henry and Sarah. Rebecca never saw a kiss or a knowing glance pass between them. She’d seen loathing from him and capitulation from her. The idea that they had once shared a bed and created three children strained the imagination.

  That wasn’t her and Davis. She’d felt his quick pulse as he lay with her at St. Clare’s. It was not her imagination. If she kept her chaste bed until their wedding night, he would honor it. But she didn’t know that he wouldn’t satisfy his physical needs in another woman’s bed. The thought of him kissing and touching another made Rebecca physically ill.

  She and Johanna were alone in the parlor, each engrossed in their needlework after tea when Rebecca blurted out, “Does Davis have a mistress?” When she didn’t answer, Rebecca painfully looked up to see Johanna in mid-needle thrust with her mouth open. “I know he is your brother, Johanna,” she continued obviously distressed. “But I have no one to ask…my mother is not here, but I could never ask her…he is distant and I know he has…needs. I want to…be there for him, but…”

  As her surprise subsided, Johanna smiled reassuringly. She put her needlework and Rebecca’s aside and took Rebecca’s hand. “It’s fine, darling. Though I’m not sure I can tell you much—“

  “Oh, I didn’t mean to imply—“Rebecca quickly added.

  “No, I understand,” Johanna said, patting her hand in assurance. “Davis? No, I could never see him be able to separate the…physical from the emotional. He has never loved a woman. He has never spoken to me of a woman with such tenderness as he speaks of you. If he had a mistress before you, I assure you that she is no longer a part of your life.”

  Rebecca was not completely assured. “Then there were other women he was…physical with before we were engaged?” When Johanna didn’t answer, she shrugged her shoulders. “Of course, there were. He is a man.”

  “Whoever was before you is not who matters. He is with you now,” Johanna said gently. Rebecca wiped a tear before it fell. “May I ask why you two have waited so long to marry?”

  The wedding was supposed to be in spring, though no firm date had been set. The banns had been read, but they seemed to be in some sort of limbo, essentially living as husband and wife, except, Johanna realized, in the most intimate way. She hadn’t thought one way or the other of their arrangement, but now she wondered if it was a matter of propriety, morality, or simply fear.

  “I had thought we would marry soon after the Season was over. Then Lord Edderle…that is, your father died. I want our wedding to be perfect for Davis and he had so much already with settling the estate. I didn’t want to add the burden of a wedding.”

  Johanna laughed kindly and put her arms around Rebecca. “Oh, you ninny! A wedding is not a burden to men, only to women! I’m sure Davis is waiting for you to tell him what day he is to marry. But that’s not all is it?” Rebecca stared down at her hands and shook her head. “We place such a price on the virtue of our brides that we forget that they are women as well.” Rebecca remained silent. Johanna went to the wine table, poured two glasses of claret, and handed one to Rebecca.

  After more silence, when both glasses were nearly empty, Johanna said, “When I was a little younger than you, I met a man. His name was Anthony. My mother had died the winter before. We fell in love, but my father refused to consent to our marriage. I believed that if we waited long enough, my father would consent and, if not, we could marry when I turned 21.” Johanna sat down on the sofa again. “I really believed that in time my father would see how much I loved Anthony,” she said almost in a whisper. Her voice became stronger and she continued. “When I turned 21, I announced to my father that I would be marrying Anthony with or without his approval. And he said that if I did, he would not pay my dowry and he would find a way to cut off my allowance from my mother’s estate.”

  Rebecca put down her glass and grasped Johanna’s arm. “How could he be so cruel?”

  “He hadn’t always been that way. But when my mother died, he forgot how to love.”

  “What happened to Anthony?”

  “He married another. I was ready to leave my father’s home when Anthony informed me that he could not marry me unless I had an income. He was the second son after all.”

  Rebecca’s heart broke at the sad bitterness in Johanna’s voice. Johanna looked up at her. “I waited years for a man who did not love me.” She squeezed Rebecca’s hand. �
�Davis loves you.”

  Rebecca absorbed the intent of her words. “But what if I should become pregnant,” she said in a whisper.

  Johanna smiled. “Then I suppose you will have to marry him!” They laughed as the tension eased.

  At supper that night, Michael came over unexpectedly. Rebecca was nervous and drank a little more wine than usual. After supper, Michael suggested he and Davis go to the club; Rebecca was disappointed when Davis enthusiastically agreed. She hid her feelings well, though and hoped that time away would help put him in a better mood.

  After they left, the exhaustion of the day and the wine finally caught up with her and she retired early, hoping she could stay awake late enough to hear Davis when he came home.

  Chapter Six

  It was more than two weeks since Davis and Michael’s argument. Their conversations were superficial dances as each tried to avoid upsetting the other. But Susanne was never far from Michael’s mind. Now, alone in a private room of their club, Michael hoped to clear the air with the help of cribbage and scotch.

  “My book is selling well,” he began. “I’ve decided to find a room of my own,” Michael began.

  Davis was silent as he continued dealing cards. When he finished he asked, “Does Susanne know?”

  “Susanne knows nothing,” he said wryly. “She is still in thrall with Lt. Wilborn.” His bitterness at the name was palpable.

  “You don’t have to leave, Michael. Rebecca wishes you were around more. We all do.” Davis’ tone was casual, but his glance was pointed.

  Michael chose two cards and placed them face down to the side. The game gave each time to weigh their words as carefully as they considered their next play. “I think it is for the best. It is easier for me to be distracted if what I want is not in front of me all the time,” he added with a smile.

  “We can’t always have what we want, Michael.”

  Michael looked at Davis with irritation. “And what is it you want that you cannot have, Davis?” Davis drained his glass, but didn’t answer. Michael didn’t press the issue.