Revenge Wears Rubies (38 page)

“I cannot wear red to every occasion.” She leaned over to kiss his cheek as she reached the bottom of the staircase. “But for the dance at Milton’s, I will, I promise.”

“Promise me you’ll have a good offer before the dance at Milton’s and you can wear any color you choose!”

“Leave her be, Alfred!” Aunt Alice came down the stairs at a more peaceful pace. “How in the world is a girl supposed to attract a husband when you keep haranguing her until she has the vapors?”

“I wasn’t—” Lord Moreland cut himself off and took his daughter’s hand with an apologetic sigh. “Ignore your father and enjoy yourself this evening, dearest.”

“Thank you.” She smiled and kissed him again, wishing once more that she could have managed both their happinesses instead of sacrificing her own to recover and make a match that would save them all from financial ruin.

For Haley, these last few days were a blur, and every smile tasted of ashes in her mouth when she thought of the caricature she was in danger of becoming—a woman who would sell herself to the highest bidder. Galen’s memory haunted her at every turn, and she still caught herself looking for him before remembering their last night and the horrible revelation that had followed it. Bascombe’s strange offer came back to mind, but again, she dismissed it, although more and more she wondered if she should send Galen a note to warn him that Mr. Bascombe’s interest had taken a strange turn.

But writing Galen felt like an impossible choice, so she abandoned the idea.

She said nothing during the carriage ride to the next party, quietly sitting in the corner and reliving in turn her first kiss and her last, marveling that one could experience so much and still be so naïve. Before long, they’d arrived at Lady Pringley’s great home, and she was forced to banish Mr. Hawke from her thoughts.

Even so, as the evening wore on, it was more and more difficult to cling to any hope at all, as inevitably her recent engagement came up with varied looks of pity and curiosity from the other guests. When she spotted Lady Pringley heading her way, she despaired at the lack of time to make any subtle escape.

“Miss Moreland! What news! I only just learned of your misfortune and would have called on you, but it has been such a whirlwind this year—and my cousin’s daughter is planning a wedding, so you can imagine the upheaval!” She seized both of Haley’s gloved hands into hers and then openly evaluated her evening gown. “I thought it plain from a distance, but my goodness, the drape of that cloth is so elegant that I am forgetting to breathe!”

It was a ridiculous compliment, and Haley forced herself to smile. “As usual, your ladyship is too kind.”

“Nonsense!” She squeezed Haley’s fingers, her look changing to vitriolic sympathy. “What mortification! To be sloughed off by a man like that!”

Haley’s chest flooded with panic, unsure for a fleeting second to which man Lady Pringley referred.

“An industrialist! I’d sooner see you married off to a shop-keeper, and I imagine your father is feeling nothing but relief at this narrow escape.” Lady Pringley released her fingers to allow her to snap open her fan for effect. “I said nothing earlier, to shield you of course!”

“Mr. Trumble is a fine man, and I wish him every happiness, Lady Pringley. I’m sure that is what you meant to say, was it not? That you wish him every happiness?” She held her ground, unwilling to play some spiteful game of gossip and libel to appease her host.
I’ve done enough to harm poor Mr. Trumble without listening to this horrible woman!

Lady Pringley’s eyebrows arched, reassessing her young guest. “Yes, something quite like that.” She leaned closer, her voice dropping so that no one else would hear her. “Whatever the cause, he has left you in a terrible position. One only speculates why your father would have allowed such an uneven match in the first place, and if, as most people begin to suspect, your family’s finances are not solid, then you may be hard-pressed to find a gentleman willing to risk so much as a single waltz, my dear Miss Moreland.”

Haley gasped, unsure of how to answer, but then Lady Pringley went on with a cruel smile. “But I like you, so here is a small bit of priceless advice. Start crying ‘foul!’ whenever Trumble is mentioned and you may divert enough attention away from your father’s wallet to yet ensnare a willing fool.”

Haley was speechless as the woman straightened up, artfully fanning herself as she sailed off to another cluster of guests near an open doorway.

“Miss Moreland?”

Haley turned, only to find herself staring at the center of a man’s chest where she’d expected a face. She looked up to take in what was undoubtedly the tallest and broadest gentleman she had ever met. “Yes.”

“Miss Haley Moreland?” he asked again.

“Yes.” She curtsied, some of her humor returning. “I believe so.”

“I’m afraid we’ve not had the pleasure and . . .” He sighed. “I am not a man for these formal affairs.”

“No? You seem to be holding your own better than some.” She tried to offer him some encouragement. For all his intimidating size, she was amazed at how cautious his stance, as if he were expecting a firing squad instead of a room full of dowagers and debutantes.

“I meant to introduce myself. I’m Michael Rutherford.”

“How do you do, Mr. Rutherford?” His hand swallowed hers, but his grip was as cautious as if her bones were made of glass.

“Well enough.”

He had the look of a man who would rather be up to his neck in the Thames, but she did her best not to laugh for fear of being misunderstood and hurting his feelings. “Have you—”

“Ah! Haley! There you are!” Aunt Alice interrupted, her face flushed as she came hurrying toward them. “Your father promised your first dance this evening to Lord Willecourt—oh, my!” She stopped short as she suddenly noticed the masculine mountain her niece was addressing. “Pardon the interruption, Mr. . . . ?”

“Mr. Rutherford, wasn’t it?” Haley tried to give the man an opening to reintroduce himself more properly, and potentially divert her aunt from her mission. Haley had briefly met Lord Willecourt earlier and her best guess put him a summer or two away from sixty.

“It was.” Mr. Rutherford’s succinct answer gave her nothing to cling to, and Mrs. Shaw merely shrugged.

“How nice to meet you”—Aunt Alice grasped her arm—“and if you’ll excuse us, my niece has a previous engagement.”

Haley could only nod a quick apology to Mr. Rutherford before Aunt Alice was pulling her relentlessly toward the ballroom. “Aunt Alice!” She lowered her voice, smiling just in case anyone was watching. “Father can’t be serious!”

“There’s no telling, dearest, but just placate the man if you can and let’s try to keep an open mind, shall we?”

“I’m beginning to miss the days when you encouraged me to misbehave.”

“As am I.” Aunt Alice’s look was one of sincere regret. “But even I can’t ignore the realities pressing on our doorstep. Just do your best to impress his lordship, and remember that your father loves you above all else.”

Haley had to swallow the lump in her throat but managed to paste a smile on her face as they reached her father and the waiting Lord Willecourt.

The instant they were home, her father summoned her to the library for a talk. “You have to move faster! Once the servants catch a whiff of all of this financial rot, the news will spread like wildfire and that will be that!”

“I’m doing the best I can, Father!”

“And how is that? I didn’t see anything that amounted to a single fluttering eyelash during that dance with Willecourt! Hell! Alice showed the man more warm looks and welcoming touches!”

“Aunt Alice is closer to the man’s age! And I apologize for not flushing with womanly flirtation while a man discusses sheep breeding and hoof diseases!” Haley stamped her foot in frustration. “What would you have me do?”

“I don’t know! Just do it faster!”

She lifted her chin defiantly, unwilling to cower. “I am still a gentleman’s daughter and not a complete eyesore, Father!”

“And you don’t think there are a hundred girls who can top your lineage and bat their eyes convincingly? And
they
have dowries to offer that no fool would overlook! A man has to marry for gain whenever he can, Haley!”

“You didn’t!”

“Yes, I did!” he shouted, then immediately turned the color of a beet at his inadvertent confession.

“Y-you married for gain?” Haley whispered, sitting down as her knees suddenly felt unsteady. “But you always said . . .”

“Your mother”—he sat down on the sofa next to her, nervously tugging at the tassels on one of the decorative pillows as he finished his story—“came with a tidy sum, and frankly, I don’t remember being all too keen on marrying. But my father insisted and the matter had long been settled between our families before I’d had my first shave. She was the catch of the county, but I wasn’t fishing. And by the time my father advised me I was betrothed, I almost made a run for it.”

“I can’t believe it.”

“It’s true! I don’t think I spoke to her three times in my life before the wedding, I was so stubbornly determined to keep my distance for as long as I could. But then, it was done. We were married and I was sulking in a corner at the reception afterward, and she . . .” Her father’s eyes had taken on that far-off look, as he gazed into the memory of happier days. “She started singing at the piano for the guests, and then I couldn’t seem to stop looking at her—an angel in white silk and butter yellow taffeta. And then she laughed and smiled right at me, and I couldn’t believe it! I’d been
sulking
! Like an idiot! And she was too sweet a miracle to hold it against me, can you imagine?”

“Oh, Father!” She put her head on his shoulder. “Why did you never tell me this story before?”

“I was too embarrassed! Besides, I loved her too greatly to let myself remember too often what a complete blind ass I’d been!” He put a hand on her head, smoothing out the silk of her curls. “I wanted the same happiness for you, Haley. And probably because of my own past, I was sure that it was possible, even if you were secretly digging in your heels about marrying Mr. Trumble. I thought, why not another miracle? She could just look up and think . . . him . . .” Her father’s words trailed off as he faltered, and then finally he chuckled. “The handsomest little bald fat man in all of England!”

Haley laughed, then buried her nose in his coat, wishing that it could last; that this fleeting merriment wouldn’t evaporate so quickly and return them to the harsh realities ahead.

“Marry, Haley. You must marry quickly.”

“Who?” she asked, her eyes filling with tears. “Did you have anyone in mind?”

He shook his head, his face betraying his fears. “Not a single soul.”

Haley buried her face against his shoulder again, but this time it was to cry her heart out.

Chapter
26

Michael rang the bell and forced himself not to nervously shift on his feet while he waited for an answer. He knew he should have left a card first, but he hadn’t the time or patience for the foolish niceties that London society seemed to think vital.
I’ve never understood why a man has to stop by with a card to say that he’s going to stop by. Whoever made up the rules had far too much time on their hands to sweat and worry about ten minutes of conversation where everyone generally seems to talk about the weather and nothing else.

He rang it again, then pulled his hand back with guilty speed as the door instantly opened.

The butler’s appraisal wasn’t as icy as it might have been, but Michael knew his imposing size took the starch out of most men. “May I help you, sir?”

“I wish to see Miss Moreland. I mean, if she’s home, I thought I would pay a call.”

“Is she expecting you, sir?” The butler didn’t move from the doorway, and Michael wished he’d bothered with the card nonsense after all.

“If you’ll inform her that Michael Rutherford is here, I’ll wait.” He crossed his arms defensively and like any good soldier, held his position.