“You did. I’m not asking for much.” Tremaine sent him a glare of intense dislike. It was obvious their conversation was not going the way the man expected. “I simply want you to revoke your demand for payment on all my investment loans.”
“I still fail to see why I would do such a thing. Your claims would be unsubstantiated.”
“Ah, but I have Lady Ruth,” Tremaine said smoothly as he took a step toward Ruth and caressed her cheek.
A bolt of anger lanced through him at the man’s gesture. The thought of Tremaine touching her at all, let alone bedding her, enraged him. He immediately condemned himself as a fool. The woman wasn’t worth the emotional effort. In the back of his head, a sharp voice protested the thought vehemently.
“You seem quite confident of your ability to bring me to heel like some dog, Tremaine.” He eyed the man with scorn.
“I don’t see that you have much choice.”
“There is always a choice,” he said as his gaze darted toward Ruth. She’d turned away from both of them, and there was a forlorn look about her that he recognized. He snorted softly. Why was he so damned determined to find an excuse for her betrayal?
“Then perhaps you should consider the
best
choice to make in this matter.”
“And I suppose that in exchange for my coin you’ll remain silent.” He narrowed his gaze at Tremaine.
“Precisely. And because your uncle’s investments directly affect mine, I shall expect the payment demands on his investments to cease as well.”
“Naturally,” Garrick said as he narrowed his gaze at the man.
The request to cease and desist in his attempt to ruin his uncle wasn’t all that unexpected. But it made him consider once more the possibility that Ruth really was a pawn in some twisted game Tremaine was playing.
He looked in her direction and studied her profile for a moment. Almost as if she could feel his gaze on her, she turned her head.
Was that sorrow in her beautiful violet eyes? No, she wasn’t any different than Bertha. She didn’t have a heart. She’d betrayed him in a span of days. No doubt, it had amused her to tell Tremaine his secret. He crushed the protest echoing in the back of his head.
“Well, are we in agreement then?” The viscount eyed him with confidence.
“I don’t think so.” As he met the man’s gaze, he knew he wasn’t going to agree. The fact amazed him.
“What?”
Tremaine’s angry roar wasn’t surprising. “I’ll expose you, Stratfield. Don’t think I won’t.”
“Oh, I’ve no doubt you’ll
try
to do your worst”—he smiled coldly at the man—“but I’m wondering who’s going to take the word of a whore or a bounder who hovers on the fringes of fashionable Society.”
Without waiting for the man’s reply he turned and headed toward the office door. Behind him, Tremaine was sputtering with fury, and it filled Garrick with a small nugget of satisfaction. His life in the Set was over, but telling this bastard to go fuck himself had felt good. He turned the knob on the door and opened it as Tremaine shouted out after him.
“You’ll regret this, Stratfield. I’ll see to it that this ruins your family, too. That young brother of yours won’t be marrying up in Society with everyone knowing your secret.”
An icy rage engulfed him at the threat. Slowly, and with great control, he turned around to face the man. The contented look on the viscount’s face dissolved into a look of fear as Garrick studied him with a deadly calm.
“If you do anything,
anything
, to hurt my family, Tremaine, I’ll kill you.”
The menacing sound of his voice echoed loudly in the room, and the viscount swallowed hard. The man’s expression suddenly changed back to one of malicious satisfaction, and Garrick saw Ruth’s eyes widen in horror as she stared at something over his shoulder. In the deepest recesses of his mind, he wondered why she would be horrified for him. He turned his head and met the wide-eyed look of a stockily built gentleman he didn’t recognize.
“Mr. Millstadt, what a surprise.”
From her breathless greeting, Ruth knew the man. But then she knew a great many men, he thought bitterly. With a sharp grunt of fury, he pushed his way past, and strode down the hall without a backward glance. In less than a minute he was out on the street, where he ordered Jasper to drive him to the Club.
Throwing himself into the leather-cushioned seat of the Berline, he seethed with a fury unlike anything he’d ever known. Not even the night he’d caught his uncle trying to enter Lily’s room or the day he’d caught Tremaine in Seymour Place had he been this angry. If he’d given way to his impulses moments ago, he would have pulverized Tremaine until the man couldn’t walk and then repeated the exercise.
Ruth.
The image of his hands wrapping around that beautiful neck of hers wasn’t satisfying at all. He wanted to hear her pleading for mercy. Bertha had made a fool of him all those years ago, and he’d allowed Ruth to do the same thing. How could he have been such a simpleton?
Once more a woman had humiliated him, but this time he wasn’t infatuated. He was in love, and the pain of her betrayal was a knife carving into the heart of him. His jaw clenched, he drew in a sharp breath between his teeth. Arms folded across his chest, he dug his fingers deep into his biceps.
She’d betrayed him.
The knowledge still left him stunned. It was almost impossible to believe given everything they’d shared. The image of her in Tremaine’s arms filled his head again, and it made his blood flow hot with anger once more. The thought of her with that son of a bitch sickened him. Christ Jesus, how could he still love her in spite of what she’d done?
Her betrayal cut deep. So deep he knew there was little Tremaine or anyone else could do to him that would come close to the excruciating pain of her treachery. Ever since that terrible night in Bertha’s room, he’d lived in fear of his uncle revealing his secret. Lived constantly on edge at the thought of someone exposing him for the freak of nature he was.
The irony of it was that it was a woman who’d revealed his secret. Something that never would have happened if he’d simply stayed away from Ruth. His fist hit the buttoned leather seat as the vehicle rocked to a halt in front of his club. To hell with Tremaine. He refused to let the bastard dictate to him. Not waiting on Jasper, he stepped out of the small carriage and climbed the steps of the Club, two at a time.
Lord Tremaine was going to find himself ruined by the end of the month. The bastard could do his worst, but Garrick refused to be blackmailed. Ruth might have betrayed and lied to him, but there was one thing he’d learned from his experience with her. His physical defect didn’t define him. He’d been a fool to care what others thought.
He charged through the Club toward the gymnasium. He needed to hit something, and if he couldn’t hit Tremaine, then a punching bag would have to suffice. Tremaine might find it pleasurable to humiliate him, but it didn’t matter anymore. Nothing would be as painful as knowing the one woman he wanted above all others had deceived him.
18
Ruth stared at herself in her dressing table mirror. The dark circles under her eyes only emphasized her age. Her elbow resting on the well-polished maple tabletop, she cradled her forehead in her hand. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this exhausted.
She’d barely slept last night as the entire scene with Garrick at the orphanage yesterday afternoon had played in her head over and over again. Although Tremaine had said he would visit her last night, he’d never showed. For that she was grateful. It had given her time to think about how the bastard had coerced her into doing as he wanted.
At the time, she’d been terrified of Garrick discovering she was in love with him. But seeing him struggle with Tremaine’s threats yesterday had nearly done her in. The thought of his being blackmailed was abhorrent, particularly when Tremaine had made her a part of Garrick’s pain. A teardrop rolled down her cheek, and she brushed it away. With shaky hands, she swept her hair up and used hairpins to hold the shape she’d created on the top of her head.
She’d invited Allegra to come for breakfast several days ago, and she needed to put on the best front possible where her friend was concerned. She’d not even managed to formulate an explanation as to Tremaine’s sudden presence in her life. Something Allegra was not going to let go so easily. With one last glance in the mirror, Ruth stood up and headed downstairs. When she reached the foyer, Simmons emerged from the back of the house. She forced a smile to her lips.
“Good morning, Simmons. I expect Lady Pembroke to arrive shortly. Please let Dolores know that I’d like breakfast to be served as soon as her ladyship arrives.”
Simmons always had a serious expression on his face, but today he appeared grimmer than usual. She frowned as he bowed his silent acknowledgment of her command before handing her the morning paper. As she took it from him, she noticed him hesitate for a fraction of an instant.
“Is everything all right, Simmons?” A shiver streaked down her back as his hesitation became even more pronounced.
“I believe the
Town Talk
is particularly ugly this morning, my lady. Perhaps the
Times
would be a better choice of reading material.”
His words made Ruth’s heart skip a beat, and her fingers curled around the paper Simmons had given her until she heard it crackle softly.
Tremaine.
The bastard had changed his mind. It had taken more than an hour for her to convince him that it was in his best interest to try one more time to persuade Garrick to accept his terms. But something told her the bastard hadn’t waited. What had he told the papers?
“Thank you for the suggestion, Simmons, but gossip is rarely kind. I’ll be in the salon. You may show Lady Pembroke there when she arrives.”
Without waiting for a reply, she turned and walked toward the drawing room with the paper at her side as if it contained nothing of concern to her. The moment the door closed behind her, she tore the paper open in a frantic effort to reach the Society section. The moment her gaze fell on the gossip column, she quickly skimmed the words downward.
A moment later, her stomach lurched, and she swayed on her feet for a second before stumbling to the nearest chair. She sank into the lush cushions with the paper clutched to her stomach as if doing so would help ease her nausea. Although she knew she’d not misread the column, she slowly opened it again to ensure she’d not dreamed the words.
It appears the Lady R. has revealed a most interesting fact about a certain Lord S. The gentleman in question seems to have a round, exceedingly prominent piece of his anatomy missing. However, Lord S. is apparently quite capable of performing his manly duties, despite being only half a man.
Bile rose in Ruth’s mouth. The paper fell from her hands, and she leapt to her feet to rush to the sideboard and pour a glass of brandy. She tossed the liquor down her throat then proceeded to cough violently from the burning sensation. The memory of Garrick chastising her the night of the Rothschilds’ party flooded her mind, and she squeezed her eyes shut hoping that he would come charging in to do so again. It was a futile wish.
One hand pressed into her stomach in an attempt to ease the churning, she offered up a prayer that this was all a nightmare and she’d wake up soon. A voice in the back of her mind scoffed at her. The sound of the doorbell ringing made her stiffen. Allegra had arrived. Behind her the door opened and she turned to see her friend sweep through the doorway followed by Lord Pembroke. She’d only expected her friend for breakfast, not the earl.
“Oh my dear, we’re too late.” Her friend hurried forward as she glanced over her shoulder. “Shaheen, my darling. She looks ready to faint.”
Lord Pembroke quickly followed his wife’s forward movement, and in seconds she was in between the couple as they escorted her to the sofa. She shook her head as Allegra sank into the cushions next to her.
“I’m quite all right,” she whispered. “It’s of little consequence.”
“All right? Little consequence?”
Allegra’s green eyes widened as she gasped in obvious horror. “What the devil is wrong with you? It’s terrible.”
“I know that. But I had nothing to do with it. I can’t change what he did.”
“What
he
did?” Lord Pembroke said sharply. “How do you know he’s guilty?”
Confused, she stared up at the earl with a frown of puzzlement then turned to look at Allegra. Their expressions of horror and dismay made her heart sink. Had something else happened? Dear God, she didn’t think she could take any more. She pressed her fingers to her forehead as she suddenly realized her head was throbbing.
“Because I was there. I heard Tremaine threaten Garrick with exposure, and now he’s done just that.” She gestured to the paper on the floor with a sharp wave of her hand. “And the bastard blamed me for it. He had the paper say
I
betrayed Garrick. But I didn’t. I would never . . .”
She swallowed hard, unable to finish the sentence. Her eyes went to Allegra, who blanched slightly as she looked up at her husband. The earl’s expression was grim, and she heard Allegra draw in a sharp hiss of air before she caught Ruth’s hands in hers.
“Then you haven’t heard.” The note of alarm in Allegra’s voice made Ruth uneasy as she met her friend’s troubled gaze.
“Heard what?” she whispered as a wave of dread washed over her. Something was terribly wrong. She gripped Allegra’s hands. “Garrick. Is he all right?”
“Oh my dear . . .” Allegra shook her head slightly, the auburn color catching the morning sunlight streaming in from the salon window. “Shaheen, I . . . please, I can’t.”
“Oh God,” she whispered. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”
Lord Pembroke shook his head. “No, he’s not dead, but Tremaine is, and Stratfield has been arrested for his murder.”
Suddenly feeling light-headed, a shudder ripped through her as Ruth struggled to comprehend the earl’s words. Tremaine was dead, and she was glad. But Garrick—he couldn’t have killed the man. In the background, she heard the doorbell ring, but she ignored it as she met the earl’s forbidding look and Allegra’s sympathetic gaze.