Page 51 of A Sense of Injustice
‘Why?’ Louise sat up straight again and fixed her grandmother with a curious look, still overwhelmed by the calm manner in which she had absorbed the full extent of Louise’s shame. ‘I have never understood why Papa and my aunt discouraged me from regularly seeing you and Marianne. Was there some sort of dispute? I know Papa disliked looking at Marianne because he blamed her from Mama’s death, whereas I blame myself for not seeing my aunt for what she was and—’
‘You were busy keeping your father happy. Your first loyalty was to him and rightly so. Your aunt, I am absolutely sure, didn’t show her true colours for as long as he was alive.’
‘No, looking back I suppose she did not. She was always very meek and submissive, suggesting in indirect ways that she had sacrificed her own life in order to look after Papa and me.’ Louise blinked. ‘I got so accustomed to hearing laments of that nature when I was growing up that I suppose I believed it and felt guilty for depriving her of opportunities. That’s why I didn’t make more of an effort when it came to you and Marianne. My father, then my aunt, always seemed to have a pressing need for my company whenever I suggested paying you a visit.’
Grandmamma blew air though her lips. ‘The woman was conniving. She and I never saw eye to eye because she knew that I was not taken in by her self-deprecating manner.’ She paused, as though to gather her thoughts. Louise waited her out in silence, feeling the relief of a burden shared and her grandmother’s lack of censure. ‘My son was devastated when your mother died, my love, but not for the reasons you have always supposed.’ Another lengthy pause. ‘You see, Marianne is not his natural daughter.’
‘What!’ Louise’s mouth fell open. ‘But I don’t understand. That can’t possibly be.’
‘Oh, it is, and whom do you suppose drew your father’s attention to the lapse that led to the pregnancy?’
‘My aunt, of course.’ Louise sent her grandmother a wide-eyed look of total bafflement. ‘But why would she betray her own sister?’
‘For the same reason that she allowed Cleethorp to seduce you, I suppose. She grew up in your mother’s shadow. Your mother was very pretty, vibrant and universally liked. Your aunt was a vindictive shrew, even when young, and resented all the attention that your mother received. I suppose she couldn’t resist taking revenge by letting word of your mother’s indiscretion reach your father’s ears. And then, when your mother died giving birth to a child that your father didn’t want even to look at, sheunselfishlygave up her own modest life and stepped into the breech, living high on the hog at your father’s expense.’
‘That explains so much,’ Louise said slowly. ‘Does Marianne know?’
‘No, and I think it best that she does not find out. But you need to be aware that I fought very hard to have you both live with me. I blame your aunt for the fact that it didn’t happen. I think she knew that if you both stayed in London she would stand less chance of influencing you or my son. Her goal, of course, was free access to a large portion of your inheritance.’
‘And if she hadn’t encouraged Cleethorp, or if I hadn’t found out about her collusion with him, then she would likely have got her way.’ Louise shook her head. ‘I never thought I would be glad that Cleethorp behaved in the way he did, but in some respects I now am. At least it has brought us closer, Grandmamma, and you can be sure that I shall evict my aunt from my house at the earliest opportunity and leave her penniless.’
‘Good girl!’ Grandmamma flashed a girlish and very mischievous smile. ‘I ought not to encourage such vindictive thoughts, but given the trouble the woman has caused this family I’m afraid I am not that pure-spirited. My son did not always treat his wife well; that much I do know. I cannot condone her subsequent behaviour but I can understand why she was tempted to stray. She isn’t the first dissatisfied wife to do so and my son should have been less judgemental. I suspect that he was not faithful to her, but men are never accused of inappropriate behaviour when they are the ones who do the straying.’
‘Even so, what are we to do if Cleethorp calls, or somehow gets to Marianne and tells tales?’
‘Just you leave him to me!’ Grandmamma said, the light of battle glinting in her eyes. ‘Do you know, my dear, I don’t think I’ve had so much fun in years.’
Louise laughed. ‘That is not quite the way I would describe matters.’
‘Fiddlesticks! As long as you are not carrying the odious man’s child then you will soon recover from this setback. And even if you are, we shall find a way to manage the situation. Never doubt it. You are not alone, my love. I am so very pleased to have you here and we shall get through this horrible business together.’
Louise threw her arms around her grandmother’s neck and hugged her. ‘I am so glad that I found the courage to tell you.’
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Darius rode back to the White Hart, growing angrier with every reluctant plodding step his hired nag took. He was angry and very concerned. He hadn’t seriously considered that Louise would risk talking to anyone about what had befallen her—and he had definitely not taken into account the Earl of Swindon’s involvement.
It changed everything. It was a wise man who knew when he’d met his match and it was time to retreat. Felicity would have to accept that circumstances had conspired against them and that they must turn their attention to pastures new. Or perhaps not. Felicity could be uncommonly stubborn, but even she must realise that it had always been a risky scheme, conceived in desperation when she found herself virtually penniless. She was well aware that young heiresses who are not chaperoned for every second of the day are few and far between. Only through the cooperation of Louise’s unscrupulous aunt had Darius been able to get anywhere near Louise.
Devious and with no conscience to hold her back, Felicity was deeply and abidingly in love with Darius, and she was ruthless enough to do whatever was necessary to ensure that their future together was a comfortable one. It was a future that Darius was no longer sure he wanted, but from which he couldn’t simply walk away. Felicity would never let him go, even though it would make infinitely more sense if she secured her own future by marrying again. She was magnificently attractive, experienced and engaging company. And totally without morals—attributes that would make for a first-class mistress but would seem less appealing in a wife, especially since she was no longer in the first flush of youth. Her union with Brigstock had not produced children, the fault most likely his given his advanced years. Prospective bridegrooms, or more likely their fathers keen for the family name to endure, would use her childless previous marriage as justification to forbid the match.
One way or another, Darius was through with playing Felicity’s devious games, but he was determined not to leave the district without exacting revenge upon Miss Latimer. He seethed when he thought of the way in which she had looked down her pert little nose at him and consumed by a virulent thirst for revenge. He couldn’t abide being ordered about by females, which made him wonder how he had got in so deep with Felicity, who dominated their relationship.
He hadn’t recognised her for what she was, he now accepted, until he was too involved with her to walk away. Bareback horse races across her husband’s estate. Making love in the next room to the one in which Brigstock was already asleep. Dressing as a lad and drinking with him in some of the lowliest taprooms in London, matching him brandy for brandy. Her wild-cap habits had enchanted Darius, and only now, looking back, did he accept that none of them had been spontaneous. A calculating and determined force drove Felicity. She had groomed Darius to do her bidding and now there was no way out for him.
The only way he could hope to escape her would be to run off abroad and lay low for a year or two, giving her a chance to replace him with someone more willing to dance to her tune. The only thing that prevented him was a lack of funds to support him in the style to which he had become accustomed. That is what he had wanted to talk to Louise about. He didn’t have the first intention of renewing proposals that he knew would be repulsive to her. Instead his intention had been to offer his word as a gentleman that he would never approach her again if she gave him a one-off payment to tide him over. She might have agreed, if only to be rid of him. She could then return to London, secure in the knowledge that he was safely out of the way.
His word as a gentleman? Darius felt uncomfortable when it occurred to him that he could no longer lay claim to that status. He had fallen too low. Damn it, why had Louise defied him? Why had she caused him to lose his temper and exact the ultimate revenge? It repulsed him to think that he had sunk to such depths. He’d struggled to keep his head above water since leaving university, and had not always behaved well. But he had been able to fall back on his status as a gentleman. A status that assured him of admittance everywhere, regardless of his reputation as a rake. Or perhaps because of it.
Now he could no longer rely on that standing.
He returned the hired horse to the White Hart’s mews. Twilight descended as he followed the path across the fields behind the tavern. It led close to Felicity’s uncle’s estate, and Darius had arranged to meet her in an outlying barn. She was there, waiting for him, draped across a soft bed of hay in the loft.
‘There you are,’ she said in a sultry voice. ‘I thought you had got lost.’
Darius raised a hand in greeting, stirred by the sight of her despite his misgivings. He climbed the ladder and joined her in the loft.
She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. ‘I missed you. I hate knowing you are with her.’
