Secret Lessons With The Rake

Hell and damnation! The girl looked like Ellie—or a paler reflection of her. Younger, her hair lighter, her frame smaller, but with similar facial features and the same wonderful deep violet eyes. Before he could gather his rattled thoughts, Ellie brushed past him and almost ran out the door.

He rushed after her, having difficulty keeping her in sight as she darted around knots of shoppers and out of the Bazaar. He had to wait for a group of ladies to pass through the entrance before he was able to exit himself. After looking up and down the street outside, he caught a glimpse of Ellie headed west, towards Green Park, and set out in pursuit.

She didn’t slow until she reached the outer reaches of the park where, finally free from the street traffic that had hampered him, Christopher caught up to her. Her face ashen, her eyes wide and startled, she looked back over her shoulder at him and stumbled.

He caught her and braced her against him as he led her to the nearest bench. ‘What is it, Ellie? What frightened you so? Breathe, now!’

He sat her down and chafed her chilled hands, talking at her to make her focus her vacant gaze on him, all the questions churning in his head submerged as he worked to calm her.

Finally, she took a shuddering breath and attempted a smile. ‘S-sorry,’ she said, her voice unsteady. ‘Running off like some mindless goose. You...saw the ladies I was looking at?’

‘I did. But you needn’t explain anything you don’t want to.’

‘The resemblance is so striking, I suppose much of the story must be evident to anyone with eyes. As I’m sure you already suspect, that...girl was my sister, and that lady, my mother.’

Though Christopher was surprised by the connection, he wasn’t shocked. Given the strong resemblance between the two young women, he’d already figured Ellie must be the girl’s half-sister. It was deplorable, but sadly not all that unusual, for a peer to sire a daughter on the wrong side of the blanket, farm her out somewhere to give her a genteel upbringing, but never acknowledge her. Which would explain both Ellie’s ladylike qualities—and her ending up a viscount’s mistress.

Until he realised the flaw in that explanation. Ellie had identified the girl as her sister—but the lady as her mother.

‘You’re not base-born?’ he exclaimed before he could stop himself.

Infinite sadness in her face, she shook her head. ‘You know me as “Miss Parmenter”—my governess’s name, by the way—but until ten years ago, I was Miss Wanstead of Wanstead Manor in Hampshire.’

Miss Wanstead of Wanstead Manor? So Ellie had been legitimately born a lady? Christopher thought, astounded. Then how under heaven had she ended up Summerville’s mistress?

He looked down at her, her face expressionless as she stared into the distance.

Pain twisted in his chest. He’d long suspected Ellie was either illegitimate, or the offspring of a wealthy cit educated with the daughters of the Upper Ten Thousand at some elite academy. An innocent beauty who’d been beguiled by a seducer or compromised by a man who refused to marry her, stripping her of reputation and respectability.

But to be born a legitimate lady of quality and end up Summerville’s mistress? What an enormous loss of position that had been! No wonder she had that aura of sadness wrapped about her like a cloak.

Though it was far from extraordinary for a family to disown a legitimate daughter who’d been ruined, he couldn’t quell a rising anger at Ellie’s father. No matter what she’d done, how could he have thrown her out to survive on her own, leaving her vulnerable to a man like Summerville?

She looked at him then. ‘You’ve always been so kind to me, despite my...position.’

Simple kindness that had cost him nothing, given to a lady who should never have required it. ‘I can’t even imagine how—why—’ he exploded, goaded into speech by anger and outrage. ‘Sorry, you needn’t explain,’ he said, raising a hand in apology. ‘It’s not my right to question, and I don’t want to pry.’

‘You wonder how I came to be with Summerville,’ she said quietly. ‘I suppose no one else besides your mama has better right to an explanation. Since I might well not have survived the experience, but for you.’

He must have looked as puzzled as he felt, for before he could question that, she continued, ‘You probably don’t even remember the incident, but you...saved me once, from the depths of despair. At a masquerade ball, shortly after Summerville brought me to London.’

‘But I do remember it!’ he exclaimed. ‘Mama had sent me a note, begging me to come and escort her home. While looking for her, I found you, distraught. But—I didn’t do anything! I couldn’t even take you away, much as I would have liked to, for Summerville spotted you while you were helping me locate Mama, and bore you off.’

With a look that said the younger man had better steer clear of the Viscount’s woman. He’d often wondered what might have happened had he been older, and sure enough of himself to have taken up that challenge.

‘On the contrary, you did something—everything—I needed,’ Ellie was saying. ‘Treated me like the lady I’d been born, reminding me of who I was, what I was. What I could in my own mind continue to be, despite my circumstances.’

‘I always knew you were a lady. What...did happen to make Miss Wanstead of Wanstead Manor end up with Summerville?’

‘Papa’s debts. Not all incurred by him, to be fair; the estate was already heavily encumbered when he inherited. Apparently many in Society knew he was dished. Summerville visited Wanstead to talk to Papa about buying some land—and bought me instead.’

It took a moment for Christopher to comprehend that stark statement. ‘You mean your father accepted money from Summerville in exchange for allowing him to take you as his mistress?’ he said slowly, incredulous. ‘That’s...criminal! How could he?’

She shrugged. ‘Papa summoned me to his study, told me he’d been offered one last chance to save the estate, provide my younger sister a dowry, and keep my mother from homelessness and penury. That it was my duty to the family to shoulder the bitter task of making all that happen. Then he left...and Summerville walked in.’

Christopher strangled a curse, curling his hands into fists to keep from reaching for her as her expressive face revealed the absolute bleakness of that moment.

‘I didn’t really understand, at first,’ she said softly. ‘I drifted through the early days of the arrangement in a fog of disbelief, certain I was trapped in a nightmare from which I must awaken. But that night at the masquerade, the first public event I attended as his mistress...the crude comments, the groping hands of his friends as they fondled and kissed me, Summerville looking on, laughing, finally broke through the cloud of abstraction with which I’d been protecting myself from the truth.’

She took a shuddering breath before continuing, ‘I was a viscount’s mistress. No longer a part of polite society, but a denizen of the demi-monde. A harlot. The future I’d always envisaged irretrievably lost. Feeling I must crawl out of my skin in torment, I fled the pawing hands and suggestive comments and took refuge in that anteroom. Where you found me, and asked how you could help. Though there was nothing you could do to put right the terrible wrong of my world, you treated me with such courtesy and gentleness! As if I were still the lady I’d been b-born.’ Her eyes sheened with tears, she continued softly, ‘I truly didn’t know what I might have done that night, had you not given me just enough hope that I would one day escape for me to summon the courage to go on.’

As she told her story, tears had begun to drip down her cheeks. Wiping them away, she sucked in deep, uneven breaths, obviously battling to regain her composure.

His heart aching for the youth and innocence and position in life that had been stolen from her, Christopher had to restrain himself from taking her in his arms. If they hadn’t been in a public park, he would have.

Disordered thoughts and emotions tumbled through his mind as he watched her struggle for control. Fury at the man whose weakness had forced his daughter into sacrificing herself for the family. Contempt for the unbending rules of Society that punished a woman without possibility of redemption for any lapse, whether or not she was responsible for it. The anguish of a man who’d dedicated his professional life to righting wrongs and knew there was nothing he could do to right this one. A sense of shame that, had he not recently taken it into his head to marry, believing Ellie a courtesan who had chosen that profession, he too might have done her the insult of offering carte blanche.

‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,’ he murmured, as, with one last shuddering breath, she lifted her face to him.

Swiping away two final tears, she said, ‘No, I’m sorry. I thought I was done long ago with weeping over what cannot be mended. I suppose this unexpected glimpse into a vanished past got past my guard.’ She frowned. ‘My time would be better spent figuring out about what I mean to do about that glimpse.’

‘Do about it?’ he echoed. ‘Why need you do anything?’

‘There could only be one reason for my sister to be in London. She must be—eighteen now! I should have foreseen that, at some point, she might be given a Season. Only recall how strong an impression was made on you, seeing me and my sister in close proximity. Should anyone else see us and note the resemblance, it could ruin Sophie’s debut before it even begins. I shall have to avoid the fashionable shopping areas until the Season is over.’

‘You mean to avoid buying essentials until the family that abandoned you departs from the metropolis?’ he asked, furious on her behalf that she would be so concerned for the welfare of relations who had treated her with callous neglect. ‘Why should you further deprive yourself for their benefit?’

‘None of what happened was Sophie’s fault. Indeed, she was devoted to me.’ Her gaze lost its focus, as if she were looking back through the years. ‘What an enchanting child she was! And what a strikingly attractive young woman she’s grown to be. I’d rather starve than do something that would ruin her chances to make a respectable marriage.’

Before he could remonstrate, she waved a hand. ‘But there’s no need to turn this into a melodrama. Though I should avoid areas where the ton shops, most of my purchases nowadays involve coal or candles or victuals. A young lady embarked on her first Season is hardly likely to frequent establishments that sell those. And if for some reason I should need a new gown or bonnet, I’m sure your mother would be happy to find one for me.’

‘Mama never needs much excuse to look for gowns and bonnets,’ Christopher agreed.

‘Very well, Sophie is in London, but I should be able to stay out of her path.’ She gave her head a little nod, as if finished coming to terms with the shocking development. ‘I think I’m ready to proceed back to Hans Place.’

But as she tried to rise, she swayed, then sank back on to the bench. ‘I seem unaccountably dizzy. Perhaps I should rest a bit longer.’

‘Little wonder, after such a shock! The Gloucester Coffee House is just down the street. With all the coach traffic coming and going, they always have freshly made victuals. Why don’t I get us a flagon of wine and a meat pasty? Some sustenance will revive you.’

She looked up at him gratefully. ‘Thank you. That sounds very appealing.’

‘Very good. You rest here; I’ll be back in a trice.’

With that, after another concerned glance at Ellie, Christopher strode off in the direction of the Gloucester.

Chapter Four (#u4a19c7cd-4fd3-580a-bc5c-d33766a55449)

His mind still on Ellie and her shocking revelations, his hands full with a flagon of wine and the meat pasty, Christopher had just exited the Gloucester when some sixth sense alerted him. Stopping abruptly, he turned to see a ragged urchin attempting to slip one thin hand into his jacket pocket, where the change from his purchases jingled.