The Rake (22 page)

For her son’s sake, for Demitria’s sake, she
could not allow it. Despite the love they felt for one another,
they could not begin a life together built on such a
misunderstanding and expect to find happiness. In the back of
Demitria’s mind she would always believe that he had only married
her because he felt honor bound to do so, perhaps even Garrett
would have some doubts and it would destroy their happiness.

She frowned but didn’t comment on his
remark. After a few moments, he paced from the window to the
fireplace and turned to face her. “I could hardly credit it, but
she says you didn’t even ask her to marry you,” she said
tentatively.

He flushed. “The moment did not seem …
opportune. I intended, naturally, to formally request her hand,” he
said stiffly.

Lady Wyndham resisted the urge to roll her
eyes. An untimely amusement flooded her, however, to see her son
behave so awkwardly. He was generally so self-possessed, so urbane.
She found it difficult to conceive that he had so lost his head
that he had behaved like a green boy--even to stealing his bride at
the end of a pistol!

“
Well,” she finally said
decisively. “You will have plenty of time to mull it over and watch
for the perfect opportunity. I have decided that I will take her
with me to town. I expect most everyone has departed for the
country by now, but there will be a few lingering in town and it
will give me the opportunity to repair a little of the damage you
two have done between you. I will scotch whatever rumors I can and
see to having a decent wardrobe done up for her.

“
In the meanwhile, you may
cool your heels here, my son, and consider how badly you have
handled everything. If you wish to marry her, you will have to
consider wooing her. She most certainly deserves to be properly
courted and I expect no less from you.”

Garrett studied her uncomfortably. “As much
as I appreciate your efforts, mother, I feel I should point out
that there is a possibility that she is with child, in which case
it will not do to put things off indefinitely, or even for very
long. I should see to the posting of the banns…..”

Lady Wyndham gaped at him indignantly. “Have
you heard nothing I’ve said? Really, Garrett! You were not used to
be so dense! She will not have you, and until or unless you
convince her to change her mind, we will not make arrangements for
a wedding.”

Garrett’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I’ve
admitted my error. I am willing to make amends, but I cannot guard
her reputation if you are to have her gallivanting about until it
is obvious that she’s with child.”

Lady Wyndham glared back at him. Rising from
the settee, she stalked across the room and poked his chest with
her index finger. “You are willing,” she said angrily. “You have
compromised her and now you will condescend to marry her?”

He flushed. “I am very willing,” he said
between clenched teeth.

“
You are very much a dolt!”
Lady Wyndham snapped. “And more a fool than I would ever have
believed. She loves you--stupidly, I must say, for I’ve no idea at
all how she could have come to.”

Garrett’s expression softened instantly.
“She told you that?”

Lady Wyndham’s eyes narrowed. “She has not
told you that, though, has she?”

He frowned, obviously thinking hard.

“
Nor you her?”

He reddened. “That is not your affair,” he
said coolly.

Lady Wyndham shook her head. “Garrett, you
must see that it would ruin everything for you to marry her,
allowing her to believe that you have been forced into it?”

“
I am honor bound--,” he
began stiffly.

“
To be a complete fool,
apparently,” his mother snapped. “Have it your way! But if you
cannot win her as you should, then I will have no part in arranging
a wedding! I will gladly take her under my wing. I will do whatever
I can to repair the damage to her reputation, but I will not
encourage her to marry you or insist upon it. You must muddle
through that on your own.”

Garrett stared at the vibrating door panel
when his mother had left, slamming it behind her, wondering what
had come over her. She was, in general, not the least volatile and
to be depended upon for her practical, straightforward approach to
things.

Settling in his chair, he stared pensively
at the fire on the hearth, trying to figure out what it was that
his mother had been so furious about. He would have thought that
she would be furious with him for seducing Demi if anything, and
angry with him if he had not decided that he should marry her.

Why would she be willing to
aid and abet Demi’s decision
not
to marry him?

For that matter, he could not fathom why
Demi would object to marrying him. She’d given herself to him
willingly--more than that, enthusiastically. She must feel
something for him. His mother seemed convinced that she loved him,
so why the theatrics about preferring death to marriage to him, he
wondered angrily.

The proposal itself was merely a formality.
He knew women set great store by such things, but it was
inconceivable that she could love him, give herself to him, and
then refuse to marry him only because he hadn’t gotten down on one
knee and requested her hand.

He studied the scotch in his glass
suspiciously for several moments, but he was certain he hadn’t
drank enough to account for the fact that nothing that had just
happened made any sense to him.

Sighing, he set the tumbler down and rubbed
his temples irritably. Demi had scared him out of a good ten years
of life today, he felt certain. First off, he’d arrived at Moreland
Abbey to demand her aunt hand her over, only to discover the damned
woman had snatched Demi from beneath his nose and taken off for the
church with her. Then, having chased her down and been forced to
hold up the carriage like a brigand, or a common thief, he’d
discovered the silly chit had over dosed herself on laudanum.

The desperation to find a doctor, rather
than fleeing with his stolen bride, had been nearly overwhelming,
but he’d realized there was nothing anyone could do for her. She
would either live through it, or not. For hours he’d lived in the
worst dread imaginable, shaking her awake every time she tried to
succumb completely to the lure of the opium, sorely tempted for the
first time in his life to throttle a woman.

His fingers flexed as he thought of her aunt
and he had to consciously force them to relax. Abruptly, he got up
and poured himself another scotch, deciding that he would find the
right moment on the morrow and propose to Demi, so that she could
be in no doubt at all that he was completely serious about honoring
his obligations to her.

To his rage, and complete chagrin, however,
he discovered when he returned from his morning ride that his
mother had packed Demi off to London.

Chapter Sixteen

As uncomfortable as Demi was with the
situation she found herself in, she discovered that it was
impossible to remain that way. Lady Wyndham introduced her
everywhere they went as her ‘dear young friend’ who was practically
a daughter to her and hinted that she would be very happy to claim
her as one. That part made her uncomfortable, but Lady Wyndham
assured her she was not to worry her head about it, that she would
be perfectly content for things to remain as they were until such
time as Demi decided what she would do. She also pointed out that
Demi needn’t feel as if she was duty bound to accept Garrett,
whatever had transpired between them.

That suggestion made her even more
uncomfortable, but since Lady Wyndham made it clear that she was
determined to arrange a match for her, Demi found herself being
courted, much to her surprise, by several young men who seemed
completely aware that her circumstances did not make her a great
catch, and who seemed not to care that she was an orphan with no
expectations.

Of course, she was certain they were not
aware that she was not, by any stretch of the imagination, pure,
but the Regent’s set, of which Lady Wyndham was a part of, was a
bit more wild than sedate and not nearly as concerned about
propriety as her aunt had been. Many flaunted lovers openly. Of
course, these were older women, and primarily widows, but even the
young women tended to be racy.

As Demi had dreaded, she was confronted
about the rumors regarding her carriage ride with Mr. Flemming.
Lady Wyndham merely laughed and waved it away. “Oh heavens! That
does sound deliciously wicked, I know, but it was not at all like
that, I assure you! Why, the entire town knows that his sixteen
year old daughter accompanied them, and I simply cannot imagine any
man playing at hanky panky in front of his impressionable daughter!
No, no! Miss Wynthrope is far too quick to judge others by her own
manners. It was only that the man took the notion to race his
carriage home and nearly over set them … but, there you are. Men
are always completely convinced that they are much better at
everything than they actually are. And my dear Miss Standish was so
unsettled by the experience that she called the entire engagement
off right then and there. As well she should have, for you must
know if a man has reached the age of thirty and five and has no
more common sense than that, it isn’t at all likely that he will
grow more reliable with age!

“
You will excuse me, won’t
you? I see Louise Smeed has just arrived and I have been trying to
run her down for a week now.”

Threading her arm through Demitria’s, she
tugged her off across the room to meet her friend, Louise.

“
Encroaching old bitty!”
she muttered under her breath as soon as they were out of earshot.
“She is the worst sort of gossip, my dear, but never you mind. I
gave her something to mull over!”

Glancing at Demi, she saw that Demi was
looking both uncomfortable and frightened and patted her hand.

“
Have faith, my dear. I am
not without influence, and I have made it abundantly clear that you
have my full support. They will not dare to snub you, whatever
Horatia Wynthrope or Claudia Melbourne have to say.”

Demi didn’t feel particularly comforted, but
there was little she could do in any case. Lady Wyndham refused to
allow her to live quietly--‘hide’ as she put it. The first order of
business once they reached town had been to visit all the local
shops where, despite her protests, Lady Wyndham had ordered an
enormous wardrobe for Demi--of the first stare of fashion, which
was to say some of the gowns scandalized Demi. She simply could not
bring herself to dampen her underskirts as Lady Wyndham did, which
Lady Wyndham found highly amusing.

And well she might, Demi admitted privately,
since she had not hesitated to behave completely scandalously with
Lord Wyndham. On the other hand, that had been private … to an
extent, at least. Fortunately, she could only dimly recall the
incident with Lord Wyndham on his horse, riding cross country where
they might easily have been observed.

She hadn’t been able to bring herself to
mention that, however, ever hopeful that at least some of her
transgressions would not come back to haunt her.

To Demi’s great disappointment, Garrett not
only did not arrive on their heels in town, he didn’t arrive at
all. Lady Wyndham kept her far too busy to spend much time moping
over it, but she was not so occupied that she failed to notice his
absence. She was deeply wounded over it. Obviously, both Sarah and
Lady Wyndham had been wrong. He couldn’t be desperately in love
with her if she could be gone for weeks and weeks and he made no
attempt to see her.

By the time they’d been in town for almost a
month, Demi had begun to reconcile herself to the notion that he
would not come because he not only didn’t care, but because he was
hoping she would find herself a husband and cease to be a thorn in
his side. As dejected as she was, she decided that she should take
Lady Wyndham’s advice and consider whether she could find
contentment with one of the young men who’d been courting her.

Naturally, none of the three she thought
might possibly be serious in their intentions compared very
favorably with Lord Wyndham. Mr. Collier was forever quoting poetry
to her, and writing odes. She rather thought he fancied himself as
a tortured poet, however, and not only was she fairly certain that
she could not bear to listen endlessly to his attempts at poetry,
but she began after a very little while to realize that he might
actually prefer that she spurn him. That way he would be able to
suffer endlessly over his ‘lost love’. She also suspected that if
she was to suddenly accept one of his frequent, passionate
declarations of love that he would not quite know what to do about
it. He was only a couple of years older than she was and he didn’t
quite strike her as a man about town who knew his way around a
woman’s boudoir.

Lord Thomas Melville was nearly as bad. He
had no interest in poetry, of course, for he fancied himself as a
Corinthian--a sportsman of note. Unfortunately, he was rather
unnervingly temperamental, and all too ready to issue, or accept, a
challenge.

Lady Wyndham, to Demi’s surprise, highly
approved of him. Sighing, she would look at him and comment upon
how lovely he was to the eye, and how much he reminded her of her
late husband when he was a young man. Then she would add that
Garrett had been much the same when he’d first come down from
Oxford and that she’d despaired that he would live to see his
thirtieth year, but he’d become quite adept with pistols and sword
by the time he was five and twenty, and far less impulsive.

It was disconcerting to say the least. She
couldn’t decide whether Lady Wyndham was pointing out that Lord
Melville would very likely make her a young widow, or that he would
make a very good substitute for Garrett, being a great deal like
him.