“He’s a bloody revolutionary!”
“He’s a reformer, just like me. One who wants necessary change but who doesn’t want to take up arms to achieve it. But at least unlike me, he comes from your world and, for what it’s worth, I think that it is obvious that Abigail loves him too. I know that they are both perhaps too young, but if literature and history are to be believed, there is no force as powerful or as determined as two star-crossed lovers whose love is forbidden. Perhaps if it wasn’t, they wouldn’t be in such a hurry to dive headlong into forever together?”
He pointed a quaking finger at his treacherous new wife rather than hear any of her unwelcome counsel. “I paid you to chaperone her, not to lecture me on my responsibilities or to provide her with clandestine opportunities to meet with the man I brought her here to avoid! And you—” He jabbed the air between them. “You betrayed me!” And that hurt so much he felt eviscerated.
She nodded, her bare, slim shoulders deflating. “I did—but not easily. The first I knew that Abigail and Percy were together was that fateful night after I got locked out and we…” She couldn’t look at him then, and he didn’t know exactly how to interpret that flash of shyness from a woman who was usually so confident. “I couldn’t sleep and saw her sneaking out of the garden, so I followed her as any good chaperone would. I was doing the job you paid me for, right up until Abigail discovered what I did for the newspaper.”
“Are you trying to excuse your neglectful behavior by suggesting that my sister blackmailed you into silence?” Inexplicably, as furious at her as he was, a part of him wanted to be able to blame Abigail for Portia’s silence. As if that would somehow make it more bearable.
More excusable.
What a bloody pathetic fool he was!
“She didn’t. Although it put me in such a terrible and impossible position that I resigned the next morning. I hated lying to you. About everything.” There was pain in her lovely eyes. Pain he wanted to believe meant more than just guilt. “But once a lie is out there and it is believed as fact, it is a difficult thing to unravel without dire consequences and, despite all the reasons why I shouldn’t have worked here, I liked being here too much to want to leave.” Her dark eyes locked with his, pleading. “I swear on my life that neither I nor Percy had any clue that Abigail planned to attend that protest. I will not deny that I have attended plenty of protests in my time and made and waved more homemade placards than I care to count, but I had no sympathy with that one. Nobody atEquitashad a hand in what Reynolds did, nor condoned it. We were all warned to go nowhere near it, so I planned to stay here all evening where I had witnesses who could provide me with an ironclad alibi. I only went to fetch your sister once I realized where she had gone, and you know all that happened next.”
“Yes, I got to read about it in your scathing article that sealed your fate.”
“With hindsight again, I know I shouldn’t have printed that. If I hadn’t, then perhaps Nolley wouldn’t have followed me down to the quay the next day.” Regret was etched into her features and his fingers itched to smooth it away. “But I was angry at you for talking me into pleading guilty because I knew the consequences of what would happen if ever my involvement withEquitasmade its way to the authorities—like it did. Now here we are.” She looked miserable and he sympathized. Leo had never felt so damned wretched in his life.
“Here we are.” He sunk onto the mattress beside her and wished he did not want to tug her into his arms and just hold her tight and tell her everything was going to be all right—even if it wasn’t. But he wasn’t ready to forgive her yet. He needed more answers. More proof that his irrational desire to forgive her for everything wasn’t just a feckless leap of faith.
“You really shouldn’t have married me because the truth is I knew the risks of what I was doing and did them anyway, knowing full well that one day I would have to answer for them in a court of law.” Her expression was resigned now but oddly stoic. “Now that I am calmer, more rational, and less petrified, I am fully prepared to face those consequences. I made my bed and I will lie in it, so I will not try to fight the annulment. You married a liar and a criminal when you really shouldn’t have. You need to go to London immediately and get this marriage declared null and void, your grace, for your own sake.”
Fresh and irrational fury swamped him, only this time tinged with panic. “My first priority is to somehow sort out the enormous mess you have made of everything in the quickest way possible! Until I decide how best to do that…” Leo backed away, needing to put as much distance between them as he could until his foolish heart stopped bleeding. “I expect you to fight your overwhelming tendency to lie about everything while trying to behave in a manner more befitting that of the Duchess of Debden—your grace!”
Chapter
TWENTY-THREE
She hadn’t seen Leo since she had confessed all to him yesterday. Largely because she hadn’t plucked up the courage to leave this bedchamber and face the world as a duchess just yet. However, she had, at least, seen the newspaper. It had magically arrived along with the breakfast tray that she had not requested, because, despite her hunger, she could not bring herself to ring the bell. Summoning a servant was something a duchess would do, and that mantle felt as uncomfortable as a pair of stiff shoes that were ten sizes too small.
While the bulk of the news consisted of speculation as to why an eligible duke would marry a rabble-rousing radical revolutionary rather than see her transported (a question she wouldn’t mind a proper answer to herself), it did briefly mention what else had happened. It gave her a great deal of relief to know that William and Percy had been released with only a fine. Edgar had too, but she was too angry at him to feel any satisfaction. There was, however, no mention of Jim and nothing about the fate ofEquitasbeyond the news that it had been raided. She suspected it had been raided because of her and that was a bitter pill to swallow. Almost as bitter as the enormous sacrifice her new husband had made for her when she knew she did not deserve it.
However, he had asked her to try to behave like the Duchess of Debden for as long as she remained it, and that was the least shecould do while she waited for him to come to his senses and offload her like the local newspaper seemed convinced he would. Rather than ring that privileged bell, which sat in convenient reach of her bedside, she washed in the cold water left on her sumptuous new nightstand and did what she had always done.
She dressed herself.
She had hidden in this bedchamber long enough and it was time to face the music, whatever that music was destined to be. The only thing that was certain was it was completely out of her hands now. She had lost the legal right to have any say in her own future the moment she had accepted Leo’s hand.
She took a deep breath and ventured downstairs, colliding with the dowager and her two daughters in the hallway, all wearing their finery. “Good morning, dear—you look much better.”
As both Emilia, and especially Abigail, were smiling at her shyly, Portia smiled back. “I might look better but you all look splendid. Where are you off to?”
“To wherever we shall be seen the most.” The dowager poked a hatpin to secure the tall, feathered confection that somehow made her look even more imperious. “The only way to deal with a scandal is to own it with unapologetic bravado. Want to come with us?”
“Absolutely not.” It was bad enough being a duchess, albeit temporarily, let alone parading around trying to act like one.
“I thought as much.” Her new mother-in-law grinned. “It will be far better if you make your debut as a Sloane after we haveduchess-ifiedyou. The modiste is arriving at five, by the way, to make a start on that, but we shall be back well before then.”
“I really do not require the services of a modiste, your grace. Especially as I doubt I shall be here long enough to ever wear anything that she makes.” Fine silk and lace wouldn’t last five minutes on a convict ship and if Leo did decide to go for an annulment as basic common sense dictated he should, she had no doubt that she would be formally charged with seditious libel yet again and sent to trial.
“Poppycock,” said the older woman with a wink. “Leo will never let you go, mark my words. Just like his father, once his heart has pickedthe one, nothing will deter him from that decision.” Before Portia could argue that nothing could be further from the truth in their case, Letitia chivvied her daughters with open arms toward the door as if herding sheep. “We must carry on as normal, girls! Backs straight, eyes forward, smile as if you know a great secret that the rest of Bath doesn’t, girls, and remember that we areSloanes. And Sloanes do not care one jot what people think of us. Let us have averylong and sedate walk all the way around town to prove that.”
“We would pass everything and everyone if we walked all the way down to the barracks and back,” said Emilia. “That is a particularly long walk.”
A comment that earned her a stern glare from Letitia. “Really, Emilia? Our family is in the midst of an epic crisis and all that silly head of yours can think about is soldiers?”
“Well you did say that we were supposed to carry on as normal,” said Emilia with an unrepentant shrug. “And I was only trying to be helpful.”
