Brushed by Scandal (26 page)

So how did he go about resolving this mess? How did he change her opinion of him without hurting her—or convince himself to marry her despite all the reasons he should not?

More importantly, how was he to go on living, if he was unable to do either?

He was passing a small copse of trees when he heard it. The snap of a twig. The sound of laboured breathing. Someone hiding in the bushes, waiting to spring. But even as he jumped to the left and drew the sword from its ebony holder, Barrington knew it was too late. His enemy was upon him, the sudden, sharp pain in his right shoulder proof that the danger was much closer than he’d anticipated.

Clamping his teeth against the pain, Barrington whirled and saw the man standing behind him. Darkness hid the contours of his face, but he had no need of lamplight to know who his enemy was. The hatred emanating from Hayle was a tangible force. And when he lunged again, Barrington knew it was in the hopes of finishing him off.

Fortunately, this time, the lethal blade missed its mark.

‘The opium must have muddled your brain,’ Barrington said, switching the sword to his left hand, knowing his right was now useless. ‘A skilled fencer wouldn’t have missed an opportunity like that.’

‘I didn’t miss with my first strike,’ Hayle growled. ‘Shall I take pity on you and finish you off quickly, Parker? Or are you as good with your left hand as you are with your right?’

Barrington shifted his weight to compensate for the change in fencing arm. ‘I am, by nature, a right-handed fencer, but I learned to use a sword in my left so I might be doubly prepared.’

‘Then we shall see how well you were taught,’ Hayle cried, lunging again.

The sharp clang of blades echoed in the night, but Barrington knew better than to look for help. No sensible person was abroad this time of night and the watchman was likely asleep in his box. Hayle had chosen the time and place of his attack well.

‘I must have caused you considerable alarm,’ Barrington said, the edge of his blade gleaming dangerously in the moonlight, ‘to provoke you into coming after me.’

‘You said enough.’ The earl’s son aimed a deadly blow at Barrington’s right side, obviously hoping to worsen the damage he’d already inflicted. ‘I don’t intend to let you or anyone else humiliate me again and I certainly don’t intend to let you expose me.’

Barrington skilfully deflected the attack, but Hayle was fighting like a man possessed. While his skills were inferior to Barrington’s, his anger and fear combined to make him a dangerous adversary. Fortunately, with that much opium in his system he couldn’t hope to last long in a sustained fight. ‘Killing me won’t change the situation with Rand,’ Barrington threw out. ‘He’ll always be your father’s son.’

‘His bastard, you mean!’ Hayle shouted. ‘And I’m damned if I’ll let him take what’s rightfully mine.’

‘Don’t be stupid, Hayle. Your father won’t leave his estate to Rand. You’re his legitimate son and heir.’

‘But he
likes
Rand,’ Hayle spat contemptuously. ‘He wishes I was more like him. But I’m not and I’m never going to be. Rand’s a spineless interloper who’s going back to the country as soon as I can make it happen.’

Barrington felt a sudden wave of light-headedness. He must be losing more blood than he thought. And the pain in his right shoulder was a constant reminder of his carelessness…

‘Feeling the strain, Parker?’ Hayle taunted. ‘It’s all well and good to put on a fancy show in front of others, but we both know
this
is what it’s all about. The fight to the death.’

Barrington took a deep breath. He
was
getting weaker, which meant he had to change his strategy. If he hoped to survive, he had to convince Hayle that he was failing. Lull him into believing that he could close in for the kill at any time.

Fortunately, Barrington had a feeling his opponent wasn’t looking to make this a quick kill. Hayle was the kind of man who enjoyed prolonging the agony. By doing so, he would unwittingly give his opponent the advantage he needed.

Barrington let his arm fall, as though weakening. ‘What do you hope to gain by killing me, Hayle? Freedom from persecution?’

‘You could say that.’ Hayle withdrew a few paces, but kept his fighting arm extended, the point of the blade level with Barrington’s chest. ‘With you dead, there will be no one to challenge my father’s guilt. He won’t go to jail, but he will be ostracised. And Rand will go back to the country where he belongs and I’ll see to it that Anna is married off to some harmless bumpkin who prefers life in the country. Maybe
I’ll push her in Lord Andrews’s direction. She’d do nicely for him once he has knocked the spunk out of her.’

Fighting down rage at the thought of Andrews getting anywhere near Anna, Barrington took a step, exaggerated a wince and made sure his opponent saw it. ‘You’ve thought of everything.’

‘I always do. It’s taken a while, but it’s all come together,’ Hayle said. ‘Rand’s humiliation, Father’s disgrace and, eventually, my marriage to the lovely baroness. And with it, an end to all my financial worries.’

‘So that was the final part of your plan.’

Hayle inclined his head. ‘I’ve already told her it was my father who stole the necklace. She didn’t believe me, of course, but she won’t have a choice once it all comes out. And I have been very careful in my addresses to her. I am, of course, in utter despair over my poor father’s circumstances. But if a man cannot bring himself to act according to the law, he must suffer the consequences. Julia will see that and, in time, she will agree to be my wife. I have expensive habits and they need constant feeding. I intend to make damn sure no lawyer puts her money beyond my reach.’

It was shameless, Barrington reflected, but he couldn’t fault Hayle’s strategy. Through careful planning, he had removed each of the obstacles that stood in the way of his getting what he wanted. Barrington saw the anticipation of victory on the other man’s face and knew he believed success lay within his grasp, confident it was only a matter of minutes before it was his.

But he’d reckoned without his opponent’s equally fierce determination to prevent any of that happening. Barrington let his arm fall another inch and saw the smile break out on Hayle’s face.

‘Well, I think it’s time to bring an end to this. Goodbye, Parker. I hope your skills with a foil serve you better in hell than they did here.’

A
nna stared through the window of the carriage as it made its way home from the card party. Peregrine was dozing quietly beside her, but even though the hour was late, she was far too wide awake to sleep. She had hoped an evening with friends might help her forget her concerns about Barrington and her family, but not even the constant chatter about balls and betrothals had been enough to do so—because she couldn’t stop thinking about Barrington. She couldn’t stop remembering everything he’d said to her. Everything he had come to mean to her.

And in remembering all that, Anna knew she had no choice but to tell him she loved him and dare him to turn her away! She would suffer the embarrassment of being spurned, take whatever chances she had to, but she was
not
going to let him walk out of her life without having made one last effort to get him to stay. She had no intention of spending the rest of her life alone, knowing she had no one to blame but herself if that’s how it ended up.

They were passing the end of the park when she saw a flurry of movement in the trees. Two dark figures—then a
shimmer of silver in the moonlit darkness. Swords! She sat forwards and pressed her face to the glass. ‘Peregrine! Wake up!’ She thumped on the roof of the carriage. ‘Stop!’

‘What’s the matter?’ Peregrine said, groggily coming to.

‘There’s a fight,’ she said, throwing open the carriage door. ‘In the park.’

‘Anna, wait, are you mad?’

She ran across the grass, deaf to his cries. Some sixth sense warned her that this was no ordinary fight. She hadn’t seen her brother or Barrington the entire evening, but Lord Richard Crew, appearing late at the home of Lady Bessmel, said he had been at a hell earlier in the evening and that both Barrington and her brother had been there and that neither of them had looked happy. Had Barrington gone to confront Edward about his conduct with Eliza and been met with threats of violence?

Those words echoed in Anna’s ears now as she ran towards the two men. One of them was tiring. He was staggering backwards, hunched over, his right arm hanging limp at his side. The other man raised his sword for the killing blow and she felt the scream build in her lungs.
‘Barrington!’

* * *

A split second before he heard Anna scream, Barrington straightened. With deadly intent, he lunged, moving at incredible speed and catching Hayle completely off guard. He stabbed him first in the left leg to disable him, then in his right shoulder to render his sword arm ineffectual.

The earl’s son screamed in pain as the sword fell uselessly from his hand. As he sank to the ground, Barrington saw the look of disbelief on his face. He hadn’t expected that final rally. Hayle had been preparing himself for victory, readying his blade for the killing blow, his wounded opponent all but vanquished.

Instead, he was the one now down on the ground, blood flowing freely from wounds in his leg and his shoulder. He would live, but he would never fight with that arm again. Only then did Barrington turn and see Anna flying across the grass towards him. Anna, her eyes wide, her face white with fear. ‘Barrington! Oh, dear God!’

And then she was in his arms, heedless of his blood soaking into her gown. He gasped at the pain her embrace caused, but there was no way in hell he was going to push her away. Not now when he felt the wetness of tears on her face. He closed his eyes and held her close as his knees finally gave way and he sank wearily to the ground.

‘Barrington!’ she cried, falling with him.

‘I’m fine, Anna,’ he whispered. ‘Fine. I just need to…sit down.’

Seconds later, Peregrine came running. ‘What the hell’s going on?’ He looked in horror at Edward lying on the ground, and then at Barrington bleeding in Anna’s arms. ‘What in blazes—?’

‘Lord Hayle and I had some…unfinished business,’ Barrington murmured over Anna’s head. He handed his sword to Peregrine with the instruction that he watch Hayle, then he tipped Anna’s face up to his. ‘It’s over, love. Everything’s going to be all right now.’

He stared down into her eyes and saw everything that mattered to him. Everything that ever would matter. She was his now and for always. And he was never going to do anything to risk losing her again.

That was his last thought as he slipped into darkness and the pain in his shoulder mercifully disappeared.

* * *

It was a tense party that gathered in the Earl of Cambermere’s library just over an hour later. Barrington, his
shoulder bandaged and wearing a clean shirt lent to him by Peregrine, held a large glass of brandy in his good hand and Anna sat next to him wearing a new gown, her previous one having been liberally stained with his blood. Peregrine sat in the chair in front of the fireplace, looking deeply upset by all that had gone on, and the earl sat behind his desk, looking equally troubled as he nursed an even larger glass of brandy.

Only Edward was absent, his injuries being tended to upstairs by the surgeon his father had called in immediately upon the party arriving home.

A few minutes later, the door opened and the surgeon came in. Instantly, the earl was on his feet. ‘Well?’

‘Your son will be fine,’ Mr Hopkins said with a weary smile. ‘I’ve stitched the wound and given him a sedative for the pain. I doubt he’ll wake up for some time.’

‘How serious are his injuries?’ Anna asked.

‘The injury to his thigh was superficial, but he won’t have much use of his right arm.’ The surgeon glanced at Barrington. ‘I suspect the only reason he’s still alive is because you knew exactly where to strike.’

‘It was never my intention to kill him,’ Barrington said quietly. ‘Only to prevent one of us from being killed.’

‘Then you have my congratulations on a job well done. I’ve left some laudanum on the table by the door for you, Sir Barrington. It will help ease the pain.’

Barrington nodded. ‘Thank you, Mr Hopkins.’

‘Yes, thank you, Hopkins,’ the earl said gruffly. ‘Good of you to come so quickly.’

The surgeon smiled. ‘I’ll add it to the bill. Goodnight, all.’

Cambermere waited for the surgeon to leave before saying,
‘Now would someone please tell me what in God’s name happened tonight?’

Barrington glanced at Anna, but realised she was still too shaken to talk about it. Given that Peregrine didn’t look much better, Barrington said, ‘I think it falls to me to explain, my Lord. And as much as I regret some of what I am about to say, I’m afraid you need to hear it all.’

The earl grimaced. ‘Say what you must. I shall bear it as best I can.’

So Barrington told him, beginning with Hayle’s taking up with Elizabeth Paisley, followed by the details of his plan to have her steal the baroness’s necklace and finally his reasons for placing the necklace in his father’s room. He purposely made no mention of the conversation he’d had with Hayle regarding his feelings towards Peregrine, knowing it would reveal more than he—and likely the earl—wished to, but what he did say was damning enough.

At the end of the lengthy telling, the earl abruptly stood up, his face devoid of colour, his brown eyes deeply troubled. ‘Why?’ was all he said. ‘I’ve never been hard on Edward. Never forced him to do anything he had no wish to do. And I gave him everything he asked for.’

‘I’m sure you did all that and more,’ Barrington said. ‘But when you invited Peregrine to come and stay with you, everything changed. It’s time, my Lord,’ he said softly. ‘You can’t keep this a secret any longer.’

He felt Anna stiffen on the sofa beside him, but knew the time for deceit was over. She had to hear the truth and she had to hear it from her father’s lips.

Cambermere obviously knew it, too. ‘You’re right, of course,’ he said finally. ‘It was naïve of me to think I could keep the secret for ever. A man’s past is never truly past.’ He looked at Anna and sadly shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, my
dear. I should have told you the truth straight away. Before Peregrine even got here. But I was afraid you would think badly of me.’

‘I could never do that, Papa.’

‘You might over something like this.’

‘Like what?’

The earl sighed. ‘The fact that Peregrine
is
my son.’

Barrington heard Anna’s muffled gasp, but it was to Peregrine’s starkly white face that his gaze was drawn. ‘I’m what?’

‘It’s true,’ the earl said. ‘I met your mother when I was nineteen. We fell madly in love and it was my dearest wish that we be married. But my father wouldn’t allow it. Olivia wasn’t well born and I was heir to an earldom. So while my parents didn’t object to our friendship in the beginning, they did once they saw it getting serious. When I told my father I was in love with Olivia, he forbade me to see her ever again.’

‘Oh, Papa,’ Anna said softly.

‘We were both heartbroken,’ the earl said quietly. ‘At that age, love is so keenly felt, as was the pain of our enforced separation. But I had no choice. I had duties and obligations. Responsibilities to my name. So I made the decision to break it off. I never saw Olivia again.’

‘But what about Mama?’ Anna asked. ‘Did you not love her?’

‘Yes, but not in the way I loved Olivia. I’m sorry, my dear, but you may as well know the truth. My marriage to your mother was arranged and the love we came to feel for one another developed over time. But what I felt for Olivia was entirely different. Something that only comes along once in a lifetime. Peregrine is the result of that love.’

‘But how could you just leave her like that?’ Peregrine
asked in a harsh whisper. ‘You got her with child and then just…walked away?’

‘I never knew she was increasing,’ the earl said, the sadness in his voice reflected in the bleakness of his expression. ‘I was sent away to Europe. When I got back, it was to find the preparations for my marriage to Isabel already underway.’

‘How did Mama feel about the marriage?’ Anna asked.

‘We liked each other well enough. Your mother was high born and beautiful, everything a man could ask for, and we were married a few months later. The problem was, I was still in love with Olivia.’

‘But you never saw her again,’ Peregrine said grimly.

Cambermere shook his head. ‘I went looking for her when I got back, of course, but she was gone. And I had no idea there was a child until two months ago when the man you believed to be your father wrote to tell me about you.’

‘But how did he know?’

‘Apparently, Olivia fell ill not long after I was sent away. When she found out she was…dying—’ the earl’s voice caught, but he forced himself to go on ‘—she gave you to her sister, Mary, to raise. But she made Mary promise not to tell
anyone
who your father really was. Mary kept that promise until the night before she died. Only then did she tell her husband who you really were and that it was only right I be contacted and made aware of your existence.’

It was a shocking story and Barrington wasn’t at all surprised that no one in the room spoke for a few minutes. They all had much to come to terms with. The knowledge that Cambermere had been in love with another woman before he’d met his wife. The fact there had been a child from that ill-fated love, and the fact that only three people had known the truth about Peregrine’s existence.

‘So, Peregrine really
is
my half-brother,’ Anna said, the first to find her voice.

‘Yes, my dear, he is,’ her father said. ‘And I hope you will believe me when I say that I was as deeply shocked when the letter arrived telling me about him as you are now.’

Anna nodded, her eyes heavy with regret as she glanced at Barrington. ‘I’m so sorry, Barrington. I should never have doubted you.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘Yes, it does.’ Anna turned to glare at her father. ‘You should have told us the truth, Papa. As soon as you found out.’

‘I know. I thought you might have realised it the first day Peregrine arrived,’ Cambermere said. ‘Edward saw it straight away.’

Anna shook her head. ‘I wasn’t looking. You introduced him as your godson. I had no reason to suspect otherwise.’

‘But if you knew who I was when you wrote to me,’ Peregrine said slowly, ‘why didn’t you tell
me
when I first arrived in London?’

‘Because I wanted the three of you to get to know one another without any kind of prejudice standing in the way,’ the earl explained. ‘Perhaps that was naïve of me, but I thought it would be easier for you to become friends if you didn’t know about the connection. Wrong, I know now, but that was the decision I made.’ He glanced at his daughter, his eyes pleading with her to understand. ‘I knew it would be difficult to explain my having a child with another woman. You loved your mother deeply and I feared you would see it as a betrayal of her that I had been with another woman, even if happened before your mother and I were introduced. I didn’t want you to hold that against Peregrine. It wasn’t his fault.’

‘But it mattered to Edward,’ Anna said sadly. ‘He knew who Peregrine was and he wanted nothing to do with him.’

‘It was worse than that,’ Barrington said. ‘Your brother wanted to humiliate Rand, the way he felt he’d been humiliated by your father’s bringing Peregrine to London. Edward was convinced that if
he
knew Peregrine was your father’s son, so would the rest of society.’

‘And did they?’ Anna asked.

‘I’d be lying if I said there hasn’t been speculation about it. Nevertheless, it was Edward’s intention right from the start that Peregrine should fail.’ Barrington said. ‘He introduced him to Lady Yew, knowing her penchant for younger men, and made sure that Peregrine knew the truth about the state of the Yews’ marriage. He encouraged him to become Lady Yew’s lover, and he used that to try to set your father against Peregrine, and perhaps against you as well.’

‘That’s why he tried to make it look as though I’d stolen the necklace,’ the earl said sadly.

Barrington nodded. ‘He knew you wouldn’t go to jail, but that your standing in society would be hopelessly compromised. That’s what he was counting on. He also planned on courting the baroness in the hopes of eventually marrying her. He felt that by showing you in such a bad light, and himself in such a good one, she would eventually transfer her affections to him.’