How to Handle a Scandal (17 page)

“I really am sorry about what happened.” His voice held a gentleness she wouldn’t have expected him to use with her. She looked into those green eyes she’d known for what felt like forever and knew that he truly was sorry the baby had been lost—for her sake anyway.

Dusk was turning to dark and the chill deepening. Tommy had no cape or overcoat, but he didn’t look cold in just his faintly shimmering cocoa tailcoat and tan breeches and boots. He looked a little exotic, and also commanding and handsome, a man as capable of carrying the weight of national hopes as of dispatching pirates and charming ladies. He wasn’t trying to charm her now, nor had he been since coming home—except for the Victoria incident—but he still made her heart thump erratically in her chest.

Not that it mattered.

“You’ve changed from the selfish person I thought you were,” he said. “You do seem to have some quite worthy goals.”

“Did,” she corrected, and gave a mirthless laugh. “What we were doing at Truehart Manor is finished.”

His brows drew together. “What do you mean? I won’t stop you from continuing the work you were doing—as long as there won’t be any more brothel visits and you promise to take a footman with you into the bad parts of London.”

“It’s nothing to do with you. I made too many rules for the girls, pushed them too hard, and they started leaving on their own. In addition, it seems that our neighbors were outraged about us bringing ‘miscreants’ to live in Mayfair. So there’s not really anything left to do.”

Tommy frowned. “Of course there is, if you still want to do that work.”

“I don’t really know what I want. All I know is that the girls didn’t like me, and I didn’t even really like myself very much.” She sighed. “Do you know, I haven’t eaten cake for six years.”

His eyebrows rose. “Cake?”

“It was too indulgent. I was going to lead us all down the path of virtue with cold rooms, plain food, and work.”

A wry smile hovered at the edge of his mouth. “Couldn’t you perhaps have done something in between that and the scandal you used to be? Why did you decide you had to be so virtuous anyway?”

She looked away. “Partly because I felt guilty. When you left years ago, I knew it was my fault. I knew that Will really missed you, and that you never would have stayed away if it hadn’t been for me.”

“Really,” he said dryly. “You had that much power over my life?”

Her head snapped to him. “But…weren’t you furious? Didn’t you stay away because you hated me and you knew Will was too noble to abandon me, no matter that I’d hurt his brother?”

“I left because I was an angry, besotted young man who didn’t know how much he needed to grow up. I stayed in India because I loved it.”

“Oh,” she said, feeling something lift in her…guilt fluttering away like a black bird departing.

His eyes softened. “Let it go, Eliza. It was six years ago, and it doesn’t matter now. We were both too young. It was a mistake, just like what happened at the brothel. I suppose we’ll never manage to be civil to each other if we don’t both put those incidents behind us.”

“I… Thank you.” He couldn’t know the release his words had given her.

His lips twisted in a half-smile. “Maybe you’re right that we need to find a way to be friends of a sort, at least so our family and friends don’t suspect we’re not besotted newlyweds. And the servants as well. I think Mrs. Hatch is beginning to despair of us.”

“That’s the most sensible idea you’ve had since I married you.” For the first time since he’d come back to England, she felt relaxed with him.

But she wished he hadn’t just made her like him more.

* * *

Tommy was at breakfast early the next morning when Eliza came in, and he managed a cheerful smile despite the fact that the way she looked in her gown made him want to groan. It was a delicate pale pink, with little rosebuds decorating the rise of her breasts like the icing on an irresistible cake. He turned his gaze to his kippers.

“I’ve been considering quite a bit of redecoration for the manor,” she said. “Why don’t you come around with me today and we can make some decisions together?”

He looked up to find her piling lemon curd onto her toast. She bit into it, licking a stray dab from her top lip. He swallowed. Going around the house with her sounded like torture considering the effect she was having on him, which only seemed to be more acute now that he wasn’t angry with her anymore.

In fact, he thought as she closed her eyes in apparent pleasure after another bite of her lemony toast, he was remembering all too many of the things he’d always liked about her, like her honest pleasure in small things. And her fondness for lemon curd.

“Er, that sounds like a fine idea, but I need to see to repairs at some of the tenants’ homes, so I don’t think I’ll have time.”

She looked a little disappointed, but she nodded. “Of course—that’s certainly more important. Maybe I should come with you.”

“I’m sure you’ll be needed here at the manor,” he said, envisioning himself sitting uncomfortably on horseback with lust pounding through him while she bounced up and down next to him on her horse. “Isn’t it best to divide and conquer as far as the mountain of things to be done?”

“I suppose,” she said, her pretty brow crimping, “though I really would like to know what you think about the decisions for the interior of the manor.”

“Perhaps soon,” he said, thinking of procrastinating indefinitely, which reminded him, with an unwelcome pang, that he’d all but forgotten about Rex. He supposed he ought to explain about the boy, considering he was, at least for the moment, legally responsible for him.

“There’s a small issue I forgot to tell you about earlier. Do you remember that boy I mentioned at the Bridewells’ lunch—Rex? He’s the son of my friend Oliver Thorpe, who died in India last year. Just before you and I married, I became his guardian. He had been in the care of a Major Delancey, but Delancey sent him to me, and it’s up to me now to find the boy’s aunt.”

Eliza blinked at this information. “Wait—what? But where is he?”

“Rex is staying with Will and Anna. It seemed best to put him in a household with other children.”

“You are the guardian of a boy, and you forgot to tell me?”

“He’s thirteen—practically all grown up.”

She gave him a look. “Were
you
practically grown up at thirteen?”

“Very well, no. But still, it’s not as though he’s some tender wee thing in need of constant care. Besides, you and I
have
both been fairly preoccupied with other urgent matters in the last few days. In any case, it’s only temporary. I can hardly be an effective guardian to him while in India, and I certainly couldn’t bring him back there with me, so once his aunt is found, he can go to her.”

She squinted into the distance as though turning over ideas. “Perhaps I might be of some assistance to him.”

“I’m sure it won’t be necessary. Rex has been bounced from one person to another ever since his mother died a few years ago. Oliver left him mostly in the care of an ayah who I doubt ever said no to him. I really do think the best thing will be for Rex to be with a family member. His aunt is Oliver’s sister.”

She nodded slowly. “I can certainly understand that he might wish to be with family.”

“Exactly. I’m a sort of holding-place guardian for him until my man finds Aunt Diana. She’s the wardrobe mistress in a traveling theater troupe roving about England.”

“A traveling theater troupe?” Eliza frowned. “That doesn’t sound good at all.”

“Nonsense,” he said. “She’s just sewing costumes.”

“Hmm,” she said. “I don’t know.”

“There’s nothing to worry about—it’s all being taken care of. I just thought you should know.” He put down his cup and stood up; fortunately, all the talk about Rex had had a quelling effect on his desire. “I’d best be going. I don’t think I’ll make it back in time for dinner.”

She looked genuinely disappointed about this, but she just said, “I understand. There certainly is a great deal to be done around the estate.”

“Exactly,” he said gratefully on his way to the door. He just needed to avoid her as much as possible while still behaving like a contented husband. The contented part wasn’t hard now; he liked being with her. It was the husband part that gave him pause, because husbands had privileges of intimacy…privileges he had no business even thinking about.

* * *

Eliza spent a satisfying day seeing to the installation of the carpets throughout the rest of the manor and sorting the books that had been sent for the library.

Knowing Tommy wouldn’t be home for dinner, she thought of taking yet another tray in her room, but she realized she would feel as though she were hiding, or as though she didn’t deserve to enjoy a nice meal. Instead, she told Cook she’d be eating in the dining room on her own. She didn’t say “alone” because that would have sounded as if she’d been abandoned, when what she wanted was to do exactly as she wished, heeding impulses she would once have crushed.

She changed into a carmine silk gown, put on a pair of the earrings Anna had sent, and sat down at the table in the now much-more-appealing dining room with a sigh of satisfaction.

Dinner was a leisurely affair as she sipped her wine and savored the hearty roast and the billowy popovers with their soft centers. She lingered over each bite of the cake Cook had prepared, which was piled with cream and delicious.

Meals had been just more items on her daily list for so long that she’d forgotten the pleasures of simply paying attention to her senses. With a feeling of contentment, she nibbled cake and listened to the quiet crackling of the fire and the discreet bustle of the servants moving around beyond the closed door to the dining room.

From his new home above the mantel, Flaming Beard looked down at her, handsome and swarthy and a little disreputable. His dark eyes had wicked glints, but the suggestive expression teasing his mouth inspired her to lift her wineglass to him in a silent toast.

After dinner, unsurprisingly, she felt rather full, and as she looked out the dining room windows into the early evening darkness, she decided a walk would do her good.

She took a lantern and strolled briskly down the front drive, enjoying the chill of the night and the pure dark of the country sky. It was, she discovered, extremely fine to walk aimlessly about, enjoying herself without feeling as though she was wasting time. For years her goal had been to fill every moment with purpose. But now all those days of constant industry seemed pointless.

When she returned to the manor, she refused to listen for the sound of manly boot heels on the floor and retired to her room with another glass of wine and a stack of novels that had come with the library order. As she luxuriated on her bed with the wine in one hand and a book in the other, she told herself this was just the kind of thing she needed to do.

And she did enjoy herself. But she also had a thick head when she awoke the next morning.

At breakfast, she discovered that Tommy had already gone out, which meant that he’d gotten up quite early, and she’d slept so heavily that she hadn’t heard him rise. But he’d politely left word for her with Mrs. Hatch that he was going for a long ride and also meant to see about workers to fix a hole in the stable roof.

Apparently, though, he would be home for dinner—Eliza supposed he knew it would defeat their purpose of looking happily married if he was never there—and she decided to make sure a nice meal was waiting for him.

She worked in the library well into the afternoon, accompanied by Traveler, who dozed by the hearth, then spent time with Mrs. Hatch making arrangements for a kitchen garden to be dug in the spring. Afterward, she indulged in a long, hot bath, then put on a luxurious velvet gown of pale purplish-pink.

Dusk was blanketing the manor in gold-tinged shadows as she stood in the foyer with Mrs. Hatch, arranging some bittersweet in a vase. Tommy returned just as she stepped back to admire the effect.

“Did you have a good ride?” she asked as he handed Mrs. Hatch his dusty hat. His black hair was windblown and his cheeks red, and she suddenly wished that he would pull her into his arms the way another newly wed husband might.

His eyebrow quirked at her and she winked in the direction of Mrs. Hatch, who’d turned around.
Our audience
, her wink said. He smirked at her and said he was going to have a bath.

“Then we’ll dine when you’re done,” Eliza said.

He cocked his head at all this wifely consideration, but then he smiled like a doting husband and said he would look forward to it.

Mrs. Hatch grinned hugely as he left, as though glad to see that the master and mistress had finally figured out how to behave like a happy couple.

“A feast of vegetables, I see,” Tommy said with a theatrical sigh once the servants had brought in the platters of roasted cauliflower, along with peas and potatoes, and disappeared from the dining room. He did, though, help himself to all three, even if it was with an air of forbearance.

“
And
a substantial roast beef with Yorkshire pudding,” Eliza pointed out, helping them each to slices of beef and pudding.

“The best part.” He downed several mouthfuls of food. “Though potatoes are a vegetable I will always approve,” he said.

“You have such an Englishman’s taste for meat and potatoes,” she pointed out. “I wonder how you’ve managed in India.”

“I actually like many Indian foods,” he said, sounding pleased with himself. “The spicy curries with lamb and the ones with chicken, and there are these stew things I love—though I’m not actually sure what’s in them.”

“Quite possibly vegetables.”

“Very likely,” he acknowledged gamely. “I suppose it’s best if I don’t actually know.”

“Gives you a sense of culinary adventure, does it?”

“Exactly.” He polished off his beef—she didn’t know how he’d done it so quickly, since he had very nice table manners—and she helped him to some more.

“So,” he said, “tell me about your marriage to Gerard. I only knew him in passing.”

Her hand paused in carrying her fork to her mouth. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d be interested.”

“But I am. You said you two were ‘good friends,’ and he was quite a bit older than you.”

“Thirty years,” she said. “He was patient and kind, but he also had a strong sense of justice.”

Tommy nodded, listening as she told him how she and Gerard used to take long walks, and how he’d brought her to lectures and encouraged her to do charitable works. Tommy was a good listener, which was another of his appealing qualities. As much as she’d always liked men, many of them liked talking about themselves far more than listening.

“I suppose it sounds…nice,” he said.

She tipped up her chin. “There’s nothing wrong with nice.”

He gave a soft chuckle. “But it’s not much fun, is it?”

“I wasn’t interested in fun back then.”

“And now?”

She decided it was better not to answer that, but just made a little hum and pushed away her plate. They’d both finished eating, and Tommy pulled the almond custard pie closer and offered her a slice before cutting one for himself.

He took a bite and closed his eyes with pleasure. “Another of your recipes?”

“Yes,” she said, grabbing the cream pitcher. She poured an outrageous swath across her pie and devoured several bites, nearly moaning with pleasure.

“This tart is the food of the gods,” he said.

“It is, isn’t it?” she said, pleased he liked it. “Cook is a gem. Your man of affairs did find very good staff for the Hall. And Mrs. Hatch, of course. She’s been invaluable so far with the redecorating—though really, I should say the decorating, since there was almost nothing here but mismatched furniture. And we’ve only just begun.”

He arched a brow at her. “Well, clearly you’ve made a vigorous beginning. I’ve already gotten an astronomical bill from the auction house, and the one from the draper nearly knocked me over.” When she cleared her throat meaningfully, he said, “And grateful I am for the carpet that’s now in my bedchamber. Any more time walking in my stocking feet, and I was going to have nothing left but frozen stumps. I’ve never encountered floors so cold as Hellfire boasts.”

She nodded. “At least our rooms and the dining room and the drawing room aren’t quite so inhospitable now, with the wall hangings and new carpets. But those are just temporary—the manor needs major changes. For one thing, we need a plasterer, so the walls can be painted and wallpapered. And we ought to get some water closets, which would make everything more civilized. My thinking is to make the place tolerably comfortable for now, and then gradually undertake larger projects like the plastering over the coming months.”

His lips pressed together thoughtfully. “When I bought the estate, I didn’t imagine doing much more than making the manor habitable for tenants.” She knew that he didn’t want her to think of Hellfire Hall as a home, but she liked the idea of living there.

“But now you have a wife to see to things,” she said. “No matter how the manor is going to be used, it’s simply not sensible to let it languish in an appalling state fit only for disreputable people.”

He sighed. “I suppose you’re right.”

“I’m right,” she said firmly. “And while we’re on the subject, you really should come around with me tomorrow and discuss the improvements. Some of them will be costly, and it’s more sensible if we agree on how to spend
our
money.”

He frowned a little, but he said, “Very well, I’ll come around with you tomorrow.”

“So,” he said around bites, “was Gerard some sort of father figure for you?”

She made an outraged sound. “What a thought. He was simply a dear man.”

Wickedness sparkled in Tommy’s eyes. “Endless walks, lectures, charity—he sounds like he wasn’t exactly the sort to set the sheets aflame.”

“It’s not all about flaming sheets in life,” she said indignantly, and then wished she hadn’t when, with the merest quiver of an eyebrow, he let her know he thought she was sadly mistaken. Something shameless in her responded to the devil in his eyes, but she tamped it down.

“I’ve heard of some fellows who simply don’t care for sheet flaming,” Tommy mused. “And then there are those men who prefer…well, men.”

She’d heard whispers about men who liked other men that way, but she’d never thought Gerard was like that. “I don’t think he liked marital relations,” she said, blushing to speak of it.

Tommy just shook his head. “Can’t at all understand not liking sex, but there you are. I find it pretty funny, actually, considering he was married to you, which would put ideas in most men’s heads one hundred percent of the time.”

Did that mean Tommy had ideas about her one hundred percent of the time? Though the thought was exciting, it was better if she didn’t know the answer, because just sitting at dinner with him was making her feel fluttery and extra warm, never mind that her eyes kept wandering toward his shoulders and chest. They’d decided that they’d behave as friends, but friendliness wasn’t the way to describe how she felt when she was with him.

“What would Gerard have thought of Victoria’s charades?” he asked.

“He was very much in favor of helping those in need, which
was
my ultimate purpose in being at the brothel.”

“I’m in favor of helping those in need as well, but don’t think you’ll ever do something like that again.”

She sucked her teeth, realizing she’d let the happy intimacy of their dinner soften her toward him too much. “I thought we decided to be friends. Friends don’t order each other around.”

“You’re my
wife
, Eliza Tarryton Truehart Halifax,” he said roughly, and there was something about his naming her this way—as though he was acknowledging all she now was and had been—that made her heart skip, even though his next words were totally unacceptable. “And I won’t have you putting yourself in that kind of needless danger again.”

His eyes glittered at her dangerously, but in the past few days the two of them had moved beyond the mistakes that had brought them to where they were now, and she didn’t feel guilty about asserting that she wasn’t going to owe him that kind of obedience.

“We’ve agreed to be equal partners, Tommy. I’m not going to tell you to stay away from tigers, and you don’t get to tell me what to do.”

He was glaring at her, but she could almost have sworn there was heat in his gaze. The edge of his mouth twitched. “You don’t actually need to tell me to stay away from tigers,” he said, a husky note creeping into his voice. “I would do that anyway.”

A soft whoosh of laughter escaped her. Something felt different between them. Was he flirting with her?

It didn’t seem possible. No matter how much she was attracted to him, she knew he hadn’t wanted their marriage and that his mind was set on India. She’d told herself that he couldn’t possibly want anything more than friendly cooperation from her.

But…what if she’d been wrong? She wanted to be wrong, because the truth was that sharing dinner with him was the most fun she’d had in years.
Years
.

He frowned. “Eliza,” he said in that husky voice that he couldn’t possibly realize was making her heart melt into syrup. But then he looked away and turned his attention to folding his serviette. “I…think you should order some new gowns.”

What?
She’d almost thought for a moment that he was going to say something intimate. Clearly she’d only been indulging in fantasy, because she’d even imagined them standing up and moving together and kissing. Which she needed to not imagine.

“You don’t like what I’m wearing?”

He waved a hand dismissively. “The things Anna sent are rather fancy for Hellfire.”

“I like them, actually,” she said, lifting her chin. “I’m tired of drab gowns, and pink makes me feel cheerful.”

“But the Hall is ridiculously cold, and it’s only going to get colder. It’s October—you’ll want some sort of high-necked wool thing.”

He gestured vaguely at his neck and chest area, the place on her that apparently needed covering up. Was he trying to cover up her bosom? Could it be that he, too, remembered the desire that had flared between them that one night?

How she wished she could read his mind, because it was so hard to forget how it had felt being in his arms.

Yet he was frowning now, and clearly he didn’t want to look at her.

She crossed her arms, reminding herself that she’d always been too good at spinning fantasies, even if in recent years they’d been about scaling the heights of virtue instead of winning the admiration of handsome gentlemen. “You don’t need to worry about me being chilly, though I’m certainly touched by your concern. Anna packed me some wool shawls.”

He just grunted.

She knew she ought not to probe him about the future, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. Perhaps because now that she knew she could have a baby, a future without a child of her own seemed empty in a way it hadn’t before. A baby would have changed everything for her, in ways that would have been so wonderful.

She cleared her throat. “I know my pregnancy was a shock, but hadn’t you thought about having children sometime soon anyway?” she said.

He made a choking sound.

“After all, you’re not
that
young anymore,” she pointed out as he took a sip of water.

“I’m only twenty-eight,” he said indignantly. “I’ve hardly needed to be worrying about marriage and babies.”

“But don’t you want children
someday
?”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Perhaps. I’m not sure I even especially
like
children.”

“Nonsense,” she said. “From what I’ve heard, Heck and Vic adore you. Children are better than anyone at telling who really likes children.”

“Very well, let’s say that I hadn’t
envisioned
having children for a number of years yet, and I think it’s a crime to bring children into the world if one doesn’t intend to be involved with them.”

“I agree.”

“My work in India comes with peril. Life there is wild, and I would be a poor risk as a father.”

“You want risk and adventure,” she said. “Or perhaps you think you need it.”

His jaw tensed. “It’s not just adventuring for my own entertainment, you know. There’s a great deal of necessary work to be done in India.”

She forced herself to speak plainly, even though part of her wanted to let things remain unsaid, because if they never spoke of them, maybe it would mean they weren’t true.

“And you don’t want to be tied down.” She might cherish the foolish wish that he could come to care for her, but she was done with glossing over hard truths and arranging things to suit herself.

He stuck a spoon in the little dish of salt on the table and lifted it, watching the grains fall back into the bowl. “India is hard on English marriages and families. And Hyderabad, where I put up, isn’t like Bombay or Madras, which offer many of the pleasures of English society. Not many English women live in the hinterlands, and the ones who do are lonely and bored. It’s a strain on a marriage, but it’s equally a strain for a couple to live apart.”

Though his regretful tone acknowledged that these were not words a wife would want to hear, Eliza understood that they were the truth as he saw it.

When he’d first insisted they marry, she’d panicked at the idea that he’d force her to go with him to India, simply because things between them were so acrimonious. Now it was different, and she knew she would likely love to live in India, even in the parts that would feel wild to an English person. Maybe especially in those parts.

Hadn’t she loved living in Malta, with its different customs and climate? After she’d rejected Tommy’s proposal, she’d taken to seeing her uninhibited years in Malta as one more unacceptable part of her that had to be rooted out, but now she found herself thinking of those years with gratitude. And she realized she wanted the chance again to have the kind of adventures that foreign places offered.

But would Tommy change his mind about taking her with him?

He had little faith in marriage, apparently. Considering her own merely pleasant first marriage, she had no reason to be particularly enthusiastic about it herself, but stupidly, she felt tempted to believe that she and Tommy might be different.

He replaced the spoon in the salt and moved on to squaring the bottom of his knife against the bottom of his fork. “I spoke to you once of fidelity,” he said finally, “of how I’d always expected that marriage would mean that to me.”

“I have always valued fidelity in marriage.”

“And we’ve both agreed that men and women ought to be equal partners in marriage as much as possible. Yet ours was begun in difficulty, leaving neither of us a choice.”

“Yes.”

He looked at his hands as if they might hold some answer for him, then leaned back against his seat and crossed his arms. “My work will call me away for years—I don’t even know how many. That might easily mean a whole lifetime lived apart for both of us.”