A Shameful Secret (26 page)

Hester smiled up at him. She had hoped that she might find a way of seeing her daughter very soon, but if they were to go abroad, that might have to be delayed for some months. However, now was not the time to remind Paul that she had other concerns.

Many of the house servants had lined up outside the Hall to welcome her home, and they too showered her with dried rose petals and lavender. They cheered as Paul swept her up into his arms and carried her over the threshold. And then they stood with Mrs. Weston and Paul’s parents to welcome the guests to the magnificent reception. Some of the guests had come only for the wedding, and Hester had not yet been introduced to them. She struggled to remember all their names, but when it came to the family, she fared better.

“Ah, there you are, m’dear,” Uncle Staunton said when his turn came. He kissed her on both cheeks. “My word, you’re a beauty. I hope Paul appreciates his good fortune?”

“Yes, I am sure he does, uncle,” Hester said and blushed. “I am very lucky too, you know.”

“Well, he ain’t a bad fellow,” his uncle said with a twinkle in his eye. “But if I were a few years younger, I’d have cut him out.”

At last, all the guests had arrived and the footmen were circulating with trays of champagne. A huge buffet had been lain in the dining room, but the tables and chairs overflowed into the gardens. The ballroom had been cleared to allow for dancing after the meal, and everyone strolled about with a glass in their hand for sometime before beginning to separate into groups and eat the delicious food.

“And now I would like to offer a toast to the bride and groom.”

Uncle Staunton stood up and gave a long, witty and slightly wicked speech before asking them to lift their glasses. Charlotte made a very brief speech about how much she loved her cousin, and wished them both a long and happy life.

When Paul stood to reply to the speeches, a loud crashing sound occurred at the back of the room, and when everyone turned to look, it was seen that a man had smashed a tray of glasses quite deliberately. Several people gasped, and Hester’s heart caught as she saw who it was.

“How does it feel to be married to a whore, Crawford?” Henry Blackwater spoke into the sudden silence.

The color drained from Hester’s face, for everyone was staring at him in horror, transfixed by the terrible accusation. She sat like a frozen statue as Paul’s mouth thinned and a little pulse started to beat at his temple. She saw his hands curl into tight fists as if he would like to strike someone.

“I fear I do not understand you, Blackwater,” Paul replied in an icy tone. “To my knowledge you were not invited to this wedding.”

“The ghoul at the feast?” Blackwater’s mouth curved in sneer of derision. “Perhaps you were afraid that something like this might happen. Or do you deny that she is a whore?”

“I must ask you to explain your reasons for insulting my wife, and then I shall demand satisfaction,” Paul said his eyes glittering. “It is time there was a showdown between us, for I believe you once tried to kill me. And we both know why, do we not? It was you who supplied faulty cannon to the army and are therefore guilty of the deaths of several men.”

“Had I been the one who shot at you, you would be dead,” Henry Blackwater replied. “However, it will be my pleasure to meet you when and wherever you wish. As for your accusations, they are ridiculous—and the woman you have married, I call her a whore because when she was but eighteen she gave birth to a daughter. That daughter lives in a hovel for the family disowned her.”

Hester felt sick, the shame washing over her. Mrs. Weston’s face was stricken, and Charlotte looked as if she wanted to kill the man who had set out to ruin Hester’s wedding day and her life. However, Paul laughed, giving an impression of a man much amused.

“And you like the blackguard, and fool you are have the wrong end of the stick,” he said. “I suppose you are speaking of Sylvia—the child I have recently decided to adopt?” Blackwater’s eyes bulged as Paul chuckled, highly amused it seemed. “It may interest you to know that the girl is mine by a former mistress.” He turned to Hester, his expression suddenly contrite. “I must beg you to forgive me, dearest. I meant to tell you about it and to ask if you could bear to acknowledge the child—but I thought it would keep until after we were married.”

“Paul . . .” she whispered. Her throat was tight and the tears were threatening to well over. She could not answer him, could not lie as he would have her lie, but to admit the truth would ruin them both. Pushing back her chair, she got to her feet and ran from the room in distress. Behind her, she could hear shouting and angry voices, and one of the loudest was Uncle Staunton’s.

“Blackguard! You, sir, are no gentleman, and I will have you thrashed as you deserve. How dare you make filthy insinuations about that girl?”

Hester could not bear the shame of being denounced in front of all those people, nor Paul’s lies to defend her. He should not have had to do that—and on his wedding day of all days. She ought never to have put him into such a humiliating position. She ought never to have married him. She had known it was wrong, and now she had brought shame and scandal to his family for no one would believe him when he said the child was his. They would admire him for defending her, but some would call him a fool and laugh behind his back.

Hester rushed up the stairs and flung herself down on the bed to weep. The tears came thick and fast for she could not stop them.

“Hester, dearest.” It was only a moment or two before she heard Charlotte’s voice from the door, for she had not thought to lock it. “Do not break your heart over this nonsense. Paul will manage it.”

Hester sat up, turning to stare at her with reddened eyes. “How can you think I want him to risk his life over this? It is all my fault, Charlotte. I should never have married him. It was wicked of me.”

“Are you admitting that that man’s accusation is true?”

Hester looked past her cousin to Lady Longstanton, and her heart sank for there was a look of anger and dislike in her face that made her wish herself a thousand miles away.

“Ellie . . . Lady Longstanton . . .” The gentle lady who had begged her to call her Ellie had gone, in her place a woman who could not conceal her outrage and disgust. “Please . . . I never meant . . .” she choked on a sob for her honesty would not let her lie and the shame was overwhelming. “Paul knew . . . he said it did not matter . . .”

“If he said that, my son is a fool,” Lady Longstanton said coldly. “You have brought scandal to our family, Hester, and I am not sure that I can ever forgive you. If my son is killed in this wicked duel . . .”

“No!” Hester cried, fear clutching at her heart. “You must not let him. You must tell him to stop. I do not want him to die for my sake. I would rather go away and never see him again.”

“Yes, that is what you must do,” Lady Longstanton said. “If you leave now while all this nonsense is going on, it may soon be forgotten. No one will think the worse of Paul for trying to defend you, for what gentleman would not? But you must see that you cannot continue as his wife after this? He would become a laughing stock. His reputation would be ruined—and in time, he would come to hate you.”

Hester stared at her in dismay. Leave Paul? How could she bear to do that on her wedding day? It would tear the heart from her, and yet as she looked into her mother-in-law’s cold eyes, she knew she must find the strength to do it because Lady Longstanton was right. If she disappeared, Paul could have the marriage annulled and then he would be free to marry again. He would not need to fight this senseless duel.

“Yes, very well,” she said in a voice that barely reached a whisper. “I shall go if you will help me.”

“No, Hester, you must not run away,” Charlotte said, catching her arm as she started towards the door. “Paul would not want you to go. You know he loves you.”

“Yes, he loves me,” Hester said, “and I love him. I love him too much to ruin his life. Lady Longstanton is right. If I leave now, it will be a nine-day wonder, and then people will forget, but if I stay . . .” She choked back a sob looking at the woman who had once been kind to her but now looked as if she hated her. “My clothes are packed and ready. Would you order them taken to the carriage so that I may leave as quickly as possible? Your carriage and horses shall be returned to you as soon as I am settled.”

“You may keep them,” Lady Longstanton said, and for a moment, there was regret and a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. “You may have need of them, and we have others. I respect you for having the courage to do what you know is right, Hester. I am sorry that it had to come to this.”

“It was not your fault,” Hester said with quiet dignity. She turned to Charlotte. “I shall go to the house you gave me—though I have no right to it now.”

“You have every right,” Charlotte said. “You are Lady Crawford, and you should not forget it. I think you are a fool to do this, Hester, but if you wish it, I shall accompany you.”

“No, thank you, dearest Charlotte. Come to me in a week or two if you will, but for the moment, I need to be alone.”

“My poor Hester,” Charlotte said. “If you will not let me comfort you, I must go and comfort your mother, for I think she is near to collapse.”

“Tell her I am sorry for shaming her,” Hester said. “All I want is that she—and you, ma’am—may find it in your heart to forgive me.”

She picked up a small bag lying on her bed, and the cloak she was to have worn that night, and walked to the door. There, she turned to look back at Lady Longstanton.

“All the presents I have been given shall be returned,” she said and then she went out. Hester did not look back as she slipped downstairs and out of the back door. She found a stone bench to sit on while she waited for the carriage to be made ready, and it was here that Richard Mortimer found her some minutes later. He took in the bag and her air of dejection, drawing the obvious conclusion.

“Where are you going, Hester?”

“I am leaving. I cannot stay here any longer. I have brought shame to Paul’s family and they will never forgive me.”

“I am sorry,” Richard said. “I came today only to wish you happy, but now perhaps I may be of service to you. I would be happy to escort you to wherever you are going.”

“You are kind,” she said, “but for the moment, I would rather be alone.”

Even as she spoke, the girl Anna came running towards her, carrying another small bag. She bobbed a curtsey and looked at Hester.

“Will you take me with you, my lady?”

“Do you really wish it?”

“Yes, my lady. Everyone is on your side. It’s wicked what has been said to you. You must not be alone. I want to come and take care of you, my lady.”

“Then you may, for I shall need a friend,” Hester said and smiled. “Thank you, Anna—but please, I would rather be called Miss Weston, for I am not really Lord Crawford’s wife. Our marriage will be annulled and then . . .”

The carriage had been brought round and she saw that her trunks were strapped to it, though Paul’s had been removed. A groom opened the door for her and helped Hester, then Anna, inside before closing it.

Hester sat with her eyes closed as the carriage moved away, for she could not bear to see the house she was leaving or to think of the happiness that had been so cruelly snatched from her.

“Damn it, Paul, let me kill him for you!” Uncle Staunton growled. His generous moustache quivered with outrage as he looked at his nephew. “This is your wedding day. You should be with that little darling you married, comforting her rather than preparing to fight a duel.”

“I shall be with Hester as soon as I can,” Paul told him. “This is my fight, uncle, though I thank you for your good intentions. The man set out to ruin me from the start. I am not sure what I have done to him, except that I may have humiliated him once or twice in public—and I once took a woman he wanted for my own mistress.”

“Good grief, man!” Uncle Staunton said. “Men have murdered before this for less. Did it never occur to you that he might be your enemy?”

“Not until recently,” Paul said. “Hester gave me the clue, for she recognized his voice when he kidnapped her, but I could not quite believe it. I had blamed Richard Mortimer for the faulty cannon since it was he who Blackwater chose to be the go-between, though even he did not know his name. Mortimer was hired by one of Blackwater’s minions. And he redeemed himself by helping to find Hester—without his help I may never have recovered her.” The look in his eyes told his uncle just what that would mean to him.

He shook his head, his weather-beaten, ruddy face registering concern. “Well, my boy, this is a pretty kettle of fish, if you please. I dare say we shall brush through it—but not if the fellow kills you, and he will try. It is his chance to destroy you. He believes he has ruined your reputation and your happiness, and now he wants you dead at his feet.”

“Yes, I know. I am considered a decent shot,” Paul said, though he had never killed other than on the field of battle, and it turned his stomach to think of it now. “If anything should happen to me, uncle . . .”

“Consider it done, Paul. I think she is a prize worth fighting for, and in your place, I would do the same. I shall take care of her—but shoot to kill, my boy. The man hates you. He will not hesitate.”

Paul nodded grimly. His uncle and two of the wedding guests had instantly agreed to be his seconds. Two rather reluctant gentlemen had agreed to act for Blackwater, though with apologies to Paul. It had been agreed that they would meet near the lake in half an hour’s time, for it was thought best to have the affair over and done with so that the wedding celebrations could resume for the bride and groom—if that were possible.