A Not So Respectable Gentleman?

He did not waver. ‘Some men use whips. Some burn with hot pokers. Others merely use their fists.’ His cheek twitched. ‘Sometimes the woman is bound by ropes or chains. Sometimes she is deprived of food or water.’

Her stomach roiled. ‘Why do you say this to me?’

His features twisted in pain. ‘Because Lord Kellford has boasted of such predilections. Because I have heard accounts about him. I have seen him use a whip—’

An icy wind swept through her. ‘That is the information you needed to give me?’

‘Yes.’ His voice deepened. ‘That is it.’

She glanced over at Penny, whose expression reflected the horror Mariel felt inside. Penny had heard it all.

Mariel had known Kellford to be a greedy, calculating man hiding behind a veneer of charm. Now she discovered he was depraved as well and that he would likely torture her. Hers would not merely be a wretched marriage, it would be a nightmare.

She turned from Leo and started to walk away.

Again he seized her, this time holding her with both his hands, making her face him, leaning down so he was inches from her face. ‘You cannot marry him, Mariel. You cannot!’

He released her and she backed away from him, shaking her head, anger rising inside her like molten lava.

It was easier to be angry, much easier than feeling terror and despair. She fed the anger, like one fed a funeral pyre.

Why had Leo saddled her with this appalling information? Did he think it a kind gesture? A worthy errand? Would he depart from this lovely park feeling all self-righteous and noble? Might he even pretend this atoned for disappearing from her life and breaking her heart?

He had walked away from her without a word, as if she’d been nothing to him, and now he burdened her with this?

She felt ready to explode.

‘Do you think you have helped me?’ Her voice shook.

He seemed taken aback. ‘Yes, of course. You can cry off. It is not too late.’

She gave him a scornful laugh. ‘I can cry off.’ Suddenly she advanced on him, coming so close she felt his breath on her face. ‘You understand nothing, Leo.’ Let him feel the impact of her wrath. ‘I have to marry Kellford. Do you hear me? I have no choice.’

She swung around and strode off.

‘What do you mean you have no choice?’ he called after her. ‘Mariel!’

She did not answer. She did not stop. She did not look back. She did not even look back to see if Penny followed. She rushed down the path and out of the park. Hurrying across Park Lane, she did not stop until she reached the door to her town house.

Out of breath, she leaned her forehead against the door and waited for Penny to catch up.

To herself she said, ‘I have no choice, Leo. No choice at all.’

Chapter Three

Leo watched Mariel flee from him. Seeing her had shaken him more than he cared to admit. Her ginger-coloured eyes fascinated him as much as they’d done two years before. His fingers still itched to touch the chestnut hair, peeking from beneath her bonnet. And her lips? It had been all he could do to not taste of them once again.

He thought he’d banished her image from his mind, but the full glory of her flooded back to him. Her eyes sparkling with delight. Her smile lighting up his very soul. Had that all been illusion? She certainly seemed to find his presence distasteful to her now. Had she merely been pretending all that time ago?

It was a question that had once kept him awake at night and consumed his days. Finally he’d pushed it aside so well he’d thought he’d forgotten. One glimpse of her brought everything back.

But his emotions were not at issue here. No matter her feelings towards him, she must not marry Kellford.

Her words still rang in his ears. I have to marry Kellford. Do you hear me? I have no choice.

What did she mean no choice? Had Kellford compromised her? Good God, had the man already forced himself on her?

All manner of circumstances came to Leo’s mind as he finally walked out of the park. He’d supposed this task relatively simple to discharge. Unpleasant, but simple. Merely call upon her father and warn him about Kellford and that would be the end of it. Cecil Covendale had not been pleased to see him; in fact, he’d been surly, as if he’d wished he could toss Leo out on his ear. Leo had minced no words. He’d explained precisely what Mariel faced if marrying Kellford. Covendale accused him of spreading falsehoods, ordered him to leave and never return.

Mariel had not assumed they were falsehoods, though. She’d believed him and still declared she must marry Kellford.

He must speak with her again, learn why she felt compelled to marry at all. She was only two years away from inheriting her fortune outright. It was madness for her to marry, let alone marry Kellford.

He crossed over to Hereford Street and glanced at Mariel’s town house as he passed. Perhaps he should knock on the door again and insist she see him right now.

No. Her father would forbid him admittance. Leo needed to find some place where he might catch her alone and off guard.

The problem was, she did not attend the sorts of places that he frequented of late. Gaming hells. Taverns. Dank and dismal rooms in the Rookerie with Walker and the shipping partners. Mariel attended society functions, called upon society friends. With his newly acquired reputation, Leo was on no one’s invitation list and would be an even more unwelcome caller.

He knew precisely how to rectify that problem, although it was a step he detested making. His brother Nicholas could get him invited anywhere. Who would refuse such a request of a duke? Nicholas would agree. As always, Nicholas would be delighted to help his bastard brother.

Leo walked the short distance to the ducal residence on Park Street. His knock was answered by a footman whom he did not recognise. The man’s brows rose.

‘Please tell his Grace his brother Leo desires a few moments of his time.’ Leo handed the man his hat and gloves.

‘I will see if his Grace is available.’ The footman gestured to the drawing room off the hall. ‘If you would care to wait …’

Leo strode into the drawing room, a room transformed from the gold-gilt furniture and rich brocades of his childhood into something warmer and more welcoming. The new duchess’s influence, no doubt. Too fired up to sit, he wandered the room, noticing that the clock and some of the porcelain figurines were relics from his childhood.

As children they had not stayed in the Mayfair residence often, so it always had been a special treat. It had also been a place Leo had not felt at ease. He used to think about all the dukes and duchesses who’d once graced these rooms, including Nicholas and Stephen’s mother. He wondered how she must have felt, knowing this house was sometimes occupied by her rival, Leo’s mother, and her illegitimate children.

The footman appeared in the doorway. ‘His Grace will see you now.’

Leo followed the man up the marble staircase to another more private drawing room, one where the girls had been allowed to practise the piano and where they all played at skittles.

Nicholas and his wife approached Leo as he entered the room.

‘Leo! I hope this means you have had a change of heart.’ Nicholas’s tone, as always, was welcoming.

Nicholas’s wife reached Leo first. It was evident she was expecting another child, news probably given to him the day before but not recalled.

‘It is so wonderful to see you!’ she cried, clasping his hands.

He leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. ‘Emily. You look as beautiful as ever.’ He glanced at her. ‘I hope you are feeling well.’

‘Very well, thank you.’ She smiled.

Nicholas’s expression turned serious. ‘Are you in any trouble? You know I will help you in any way I can.’