Catch a Falling Heiress: An American Heiress in London (8 page)

“But I thought you said you don’t even know this man.”

“I don’t. I’d seen him in the ballroom, that was all. Mother pointed him out to me, but I never spoke to him. And when I went down to the pagoda, I never dreamed—”

“My God, Lin.” Her father sighed and raked a hand through his silver hair. “My God, do you know what you’ve done?”

“I didn’t do anything,” she flared. “Why does everyone always blame the woman in circumstances like these?”

“Maybe because the woman in question put herself in these circumstances by sneaking off to meet with a cad.”

Those words, coming from the man she’d always adored, felt like a slap across the face, but Linnet strove to maintain her dignity. “Frederick is not the cad in this. His intentions were honorable.”

“Honorable?” her father echoed in disbelief. “That’s not what I’d call it.”

“He was there to propose marriage.”

“This Lord Featherstone had the same intention, apparently. Would you call him honorable, too?”

“Of course not.”

“Then what’s the difference?”

“Featherstone didn’t just propose. He—” She stopped and gave a grimace. “It’s worse than that, I’m afraid.”

“Tell me the rest. There is nothing you tell me,” he added when she hesitated, “that could be worse than what I’m imagining.”

“He kissed me.”

“Kissed you?” Ephraim roared, and Linnet cast another alarmed glance at the closed door.

“Sssh. Daddy, keep your voice down. Things are bad enough already. If someone overhears—”

“I’ll kill him,” her father muttered between clenched teeth. “I’ll kill that British, fortune-hunting son of a bitch.”

Linnet might have been warmed by that show of paternal outrage but for the suspicion that his anger wasn’t solely on her behalf. “Killing Featherstone won’t save my reputation. Mrs. Dewey heard his proposal and saw what he did. No doubt she’s telling everyone in the ballroom all about it right now. The one thing that will stop the scandal is an announcement of my engagement, followed as soon as possible by my wedding.”

“You’re right, of course.” Her father stepped around her. “Which means there’s no time to lose.”

“Where are you going?” Linnet turned, watching as he strode toward the door. “What do you intend to do?”

“I’m going to find Franklin MacKay and tell him what’s happened before he hears it from someone else. You and Davis will have to become engaged right away.”

“What?” Linnet started across the room after him. “But I’ve already told you I can’t marry Davis.”

“You don’t have a choice. As you said, you have to marry someone.”

Desperate, she tried again to dissuade her father from his course. “Franklin MacKay won’t agree to let Davis marry me. Not now. Mr. MacKay has a puritanical sense of respectability.”

“We’ll soon find out.” Her father paused, hand on the doorknob, and when he looked at her, his smile was grim. “Let’s hope the appeal of profits overcomes his scruples.”

“But I want to marry Frederick.”

Her father didn’t argue the point, but his eyes glittered with all the ruthlessness she’d seen earlier. “Maybe you do,” he countered, “but after this, what makes you think Frederick will still want to marry you?”

The question took her by surprise. “What do you mean? Of course he wants to marry me. He proposed, didn’t he?”

“So you tell me, but that was before you became open to scandal. After what happened with Featherstone, you seem quite sure Davis won’t have you. What makes you think Frederick will?”

“Because he was
there
. He knows—” She stopped, appreciating her father’s point even before he voiced it.

“He knows nothing,” Ephraim said. “From what you’ve told me, he was unconscious.”

“Well, yes, but even so, that doesn’t matter. All I have to do is tell him . . . tell him what . . .” Her voice trailed off into silence as doubts crept in. Until this moment, it hadn’t occurred to her that Frederick might change his mind, that he would cease to want her because of what Featherstone had done. She tried to rally. “Frederick won’t desert me because of this. He cares for me.”

“Maybe so,” her father acknowledged as he paused by the door. “But in light of Featherstone’s actions, I doubt Albert Van Hausen will take Frederick’s sentiments into consideration. At least Franklin Mackay knows there’s a lucrative business deal in the offing if his son marries you. Van Hausen has no such incentive, and without his father’s approval, I doubt Frederick will marry you.”

“Why not?”

Her father opened the door. “Because he hasn’t got the guts. Frederick is a noodle-spined jackass.”

With that brutal and most unfair assessment, her father walked out the door, leaving Linnet alone with all the doubts he’d just planted in her head.

Chapter 5

Of all the nights of her life, this one had to rank as the absolute worst, Linnet decided as she stared at the closed door of the library.

It had started out so beautifully, too. She sank down onto one of Prescott Dewey’s big leather armchairs in a pouf of pink silk, remembering in amazement how she’d felt sailing into the ballroom less than two hours ago—relieved that her months in the grinding London marriage market were over, hopeful that her mother’s shameless matchmaking was at an end, aware that with her twenty-first birthday a month ago, she could not be forced into anything by her mother. She’d been happy to be home again among all her old friends and confident that her destiny would be in her own hands. And what a nice surprise it had been to find Frederick, his face so comfortingly familiar, his eyes gazing at her with such gratifying adoration. Her future had seemed full of promise, as bright as the morning sun on the waters of Easton Bay.

And now? Linnet fell back in her chair with a sigh. Now her romantic evening was in tatters, her heretofore pristine reputation was teetering on the brink of ruin, and any illusions she’d ever had that she was in control of her own destiny had been trampled into dust. How, she wondered in bewilderment, had everything gone so wrong?

It was that man. She straightened in her chair as the memory of Lord Featherstone hiding Frederick’s unconscious body came into her mind. He’d known, she realized, just what he was doing. He’d seen his opportunity, the calculating bastard, and he’d taken full advantage of it, hiding Frederick from view so that the women wouldn’t see him, then compromising her on purpose, shouting his proposal so it would be heard by her mother, then . . . and then . . . Linnet’s rage blazed as she remembered that insufferable smile on his face just before he’d kissed her in front of her mother and Mrs. Dewey, sealing her fate and lining his own pocketbook.

Linnet ground her teeth, her lips burning from that kiss. His actions had been unconscionable, his intentions corrupt, and his motives so obvious a child wouldn’t be deceived. Her mother, however, wasn’t going to care two bits about any of that.

Helen’s ambitions knew no bounds, and though Linnet had managed to stay strong in the face of her mother’s relentless campaign, she knew her strength had been due in part to the bolstering support and reassurance of her father. Ephraim, she’d thought, was on her side. But now, she knew her father’s support was nothing but an illusion.

At that reminder, Linnet’s anger receded, giving way to bleak despair, as well as something sharper and even more painful—the stab of betrayal. All this time, she’d thought Ephraim to be her ally, that unlike her mother, he loved her more than his own ambition.

Pain squeezed her chest, pushing upward, erupting in a sob.
Oh, Daddy,
she thought, lifting a gloved hand to her mouth,
how could you?

She closed her eyes and pressed her hand hard against her mouth, trying to stifle the sobs that seemed bent on coming out.
Damn it,
she thought, as a tear squeezed out between her closed lids and rolled down her cheek, crying wasn’t going to help. She had to
think.

Linnet fought back the tears of desolation and panic, striving to don some of her father’s cool, mercenary business sense. After a moment, she pulled out her handkerchief, blotted her face, and took stock of things. It was clear she would be marrying someone, and to her mind, Frederick was the only possible choice.

What makes you think Frederick will want to marry you?

Her father’s question, though cruel, was also valid. Like it or not, she would be tainted now, and there were many men who would cry off in such a circumstance. Was Frederick that sort of man? Would Frederick desert her once the story came out?

She turned the question over in her mind, and as she did, she realized that though she’d known Frederick her entire life, had at one time been in love with him and had almost agreed to marry him, she did not know him well enough to answer the question with any degree of certainty.

He cared what people thought of him. She was certain of that. In particular, he had a high degree of respect for his father’s opinion, and Albert Van Hausen would never approve of her marriage to his son once the knowledge of Featherstone’s kissing her became public knowledge. What if her father was right that Frederick was a bit weak? What if he caved to his own father’s opinion and left her high and dry?

The door opened, diverting her from the appalling direction of her thoughts, and when she saw Frederick’s blond head emerge through the doorway, she gave a cry of relief.

“Oh, thank heavens it’s you.” She jumped to her feet. “I thought it might be my mother with Lord Featherstone. Are you all right?”

He nodded as he came in and closed the door behind him. “What about you?”

She sighed. “I’m well enough, all things considered. How did you know where to find me?”

“I didn’t. I’ve been looking everywhere. When I returned to the ballroom, I heard almost at once what Featherstone had done. The despicable swine. When I see him again—”

Linnet’s cry of dismay interrupted him. “You know? You’ve . . .” She paused and swallowed hard. “You’ve heard, then?”

He sighed. “I’m afraid so. I wasn’t in the ballroom ten seconds before Dotty Ridgeway rushed over and told me all about it.”

“Dotty?” The idea that one of her own friends had so eagerly imparted sordid gossip about her sent Linnet’s spirits sinking even lower. “My, my,” she murmured, squaring her shoulders and trying to force out a laugh. “Bad news travels fast, doesn’t it?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Frederick cried and grasped her arms. “Not to me.”

The bleakness around Linnet’s heart lifted a little. “Really?”

He stared at her as if incredulous she’d even ask. “How could you think it would?”

“My father said—” She stopped and shook her head. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. I just thought that when you heard about what happened, that you might . . .” She paused and swallowed hard. “That you might change your mind about the whole thing.”

“Why? Because Featherstone’s a cad and an opportunistic fortune hunter?”

Linnet’s spirits were rising higher with each word, but she tempered the feeling. She still didn’t have a formal proposal of marriage from him, and given how her evening had gone so far, she didn’t want to take anything for granted. “If you did feel differently about me now because of what he did, I would understand.”

“Don’t be a ninny. As things are, I’m tempted to force Featherstone to stand a second round of fisticuffs. If I did, the outcome of our fight would be very different, I promise you. But I doubt I’ll have the chance. When I came out of the pagoda, I saw him with your mother in the garden. They were looking thick as thieves.”

“Planning the wedding and discussing the dowry, I have no doubt,” she countered with a grimace.

“I didn’t stop to eavesdrop, but if what Dotty told me is accurate, everyone thinks you’re engaged to him, and given what he did, you’ll be expected to marry him. I couldn’t stand it, Linnet!” he cried, his voice rising with gratifying intensity. “If you married him instead of me, I’d—” He broke off, swallowed, and said, “The point is, your reputation is in serious jeopardy.”

“Yes.” She felt her throat clogging up, and she had to force out her next words. “I’m damaged goods now.”

“No, you’re not. Damn Featherstone to hell. And damn Mrs. Dewey’s malicious tongue. I’m sorry,” he added at once. “I didn’t mean to swear.”

“I think swearing is called for.” She tried to smile, but it was a wobbly effort. “I’ve sworn a bit myself during the past hour.”

“Everything’s going to be all right. There’s no avoiding a scandal, I’m afraid, but does that matter? I mean, you’ll end up all right as long as we go forward with our own plans. I think we should be married as soon as possible.”

A sigh of relief escaped her, but she had to be sure he was sure. “Within a week, what Featherstone did will be in all the gossip columns. If I don’t marry him, I’ll be branded a shameless wanton, and if I marry you, you’ll be declared a laughingstock for wanting me.”

“Nonsense. We’ll just tell the truth. We had agreed to become engaged, and Featherstone intervened, assaulting me and making unspeakable advances toward you. You’ve done nothing wrong. And let people say what they like. I shan’t care.”

For those words alone, she wanted to fling her arms around his neck and kiss him, but there was still one obstacle in their path, and remembering that restrained her. “Frederick, even if . . . even if you do want to marry me, my father won’t hear of it.”

“You spoke with him about this?” Frederick’s brows drew together in a frown. “You asked for his consent? Damn it, Linnet, why?”

“I had no choice. I had to tell him the truth of what happened tonight before he heard some sordid reiteration of the story from someone else. It never occurred to me he would refuse his permission.”

“Did he give a reason? Did he speak against me?”

“No, of course he didn’t. It’s just that he’s got someone else in mind for me to marry.”

Frederick’s frown deepened into a scowl. “Who?” he demanded, his voice tense and sharp.

“Davis MacKay. My father is off with Franklin Mackay right now, trying to persuade him to agree to the match.”

He gave her a hard, searching stare. “And would you rather marry Davis than marry me?”

“Heavens, no.”

His brow cleared, and he shrugged, seeming once again his usual carefree self. “Then we’ve got nothing to worry about.”

She made a choked sound that was half laugh, half sob. “No? Then why do I have this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach? I don’t want to marry Davis. And I’d rather spit nails than marry Featherstone. And Daddy won’t let me marry you. Given all that, I don’t see what I can do. There’s no answer.”

“Stop panicking,” he ordered, once again putting his hands on her arms to give her a little shake. “Your mother can’t make you marry Featherstone, and your father can’t make you marry Davis. You’re twenty-one. You don’t need permission from either of them to marry me. We can elope.”

“Elope?” She stared at him, dumbfounded, for as strong-minded as she could be, such a course had never occurred to her. “You want me to run away with you?”

“Why not?”

She considered. “Well, my father could disinherit me, for one thing.”

“He won’t. He adores you too much for that.” He laughed. “And even if he did, why should it matter? Are you afraid I can’t support you?”

She couldn’t help laughing with him at that absurd idea. “Of course not, but I thought it only fair to warn you that he’ll be furious and he might cut me off. Daddy can be . . .” She paused and swallowed hard. “He can be ruthless. Your father might cut you off, too, since my reputation will be ruined.”

“I don’t care about his money, or my father’s either, if it comes to it.” He kissed her nose. “I have plenty of my own, you know. I’ll have more than enough to support us.”

“An elopement between us will inflame the gossip all the more.”

“Or it will make everyone realize the truth. Once we’re married, we’ll be able to tell the true story of what happened, and this whole mess will blow over.”

“And everything in our garden will be lovely? That’s a nice thought, Frederick, but I’m afraid it’s a case of wishful thinking. People will talk about this for years.”

“Even if they do, it still doesn’t matter. If there’s a scandal to face, we’ll face it together as husband and wife.”

With those words, Linnet knew her reputation would be saved. She’d be marrying a man who wanted her, not her money, and her relief was so great, she felt her knees giving way. “Oh, Frederick,” she cried, clutching at the lapels of his dinner jacket to stay on her feet. “Daddy told me you wouldn’t want me once you knew what had happened.”

“And you believed him? My darling, if you’re going to marry me, you might give my character a little credit.” He glanced at the door. “We don’t have much time. Since your father’s off with Mr. MacKay, and your mother’s probably still with Featherstone, this is our chance. We’ll slip away through a side door, take my carriage, and be gone before anyone knows we’re missing.”

“Leave right now? You mean this minute?”

“We have to be away now, for we won’t have another chance. After tonight, your parents will watch over you like hawks.”

“But look at us. We’re not dressed for travel. We’ve no clothes, no proper shoes, not even toothbrushes. I’m in a ball gown and dancing slippers, for goodness’ sake. We have to at least take time to change—”

“I told you, there is no time,” he interrupted, his voice carrying a strident urgency she’d never heard before. “If we take my carriage, we’ll put the top up and no one will see you. We can be in Providence by first light, and I’ll put you in a hotel, purchase a change of clothes for both of us, and we’ll find a justice of the peace. We’ll be married by the afternoon and return in the evening as man and wife, and no one will be able to do anything about it.”