Christine Merrill - Lady Priscilla’s Shameful Secret

‘Who told me? Why, you did, just now.’ He was smiling in triumph. ‘It is commonly known that the younger daughter of the Earl of Benbridge no longer goes about in society because of the presence of the elder. But I assumed there would be more to it than that. And I was correct.’

Success at last, though it came with a sick feeling in her stomach and the wish that it had come any way but this. She had finally managed to ruin everything. Father would be furious if this opportunity slipped through her fingers. It would serve him right, for pushing this upon her. ‘You have guessed correctly, your Grace. And now I assume that this interview is at an end.’ She gestured towards the door.

‘On the contrary,’ he replied. ‘You have much more to tell me before I depart from here. Does the sad state of your reputation have anything to do with your family’s willingness that we might meet alone?’

‘There is no reason that we should not,’ she replied. ‘He expects that you will offer for me, not rape me on the divan in the lounge.’

If her frankness startled him, it did not show. ‘And what if I did?’

‘Then I would cry to my father and he would demand that you marry me.’

‘As you might at any rate,’ he pointed out. ‘The door is closed and we are alone. Should you wish to tell tales about my behaviour, I would have no evidence to refute them.’

‘Perhaps I would if I wished to trap you into marriage,’ she snapped. ‘It is you who have come to me and not the other way round. I never gave you any reason to think I wished a union. If your intentions are not in that direction, then, as I said before, you had best leave.’

He ignored the door and looked her up and down again, walking slowly around her, so as to view her from all angles. Then he spoke. ‘Truth now. I will not tell your father, if that is what you fear. You have my word. Is there another, perhaps someone inferior to me, that you might prefer?’

‘Would it matter?’ she asked in exasperation. ‘Between the two of you, you and my father seem to have settled the matter.’

‘It might,’ Reighland said, after a moment. ‘And you did not answer my question.’

‘If we are taking my opinions into account at this late date, then I shall tell you again: there is no other. All the same, I prefer to remain unmarried. Even if I sought marriage, it would not be with you. We do not suit. I thought I made that clear to you, when we danced.’

‘I see.’ He was staring at her again, appraising. ‘You do not wish to leave the loving bosom of your family.’

She almost laughed at the absurdity of it. ‘Of course I do. There is a dower house on the property in Cornwall that stands empty. And land further north where I might stay with my mother’s sister. Perhaps I could go to Scotland. Any of those would do for a genteel spinsterhood. That is all I seek for myself.’

‘Then I am sorry to disappoint you. As I said before, your father has no intention of allowing that. You will be married. If not to me, then to some other. Since you have no concrete objections, other than an illogical dislike of me, I will speak to your father. We will formalise this arrangement by the end of the month.’

Arrangement. Was that all it was to him? She had known when it came time to marry that there would be no love match. But she had not thought it would be quite so passionless as this. And so she blurted, before he could leave, ‘If you mean to go ahead with this, then you had best know the whole truth, so that you do not reproach me with it on our wedding night. I am no longer innocent.’ She would pay the price for her honesty, she was sure. The duke would storm out and tell her father. Then she would get a long lecture from Benbridge and his new wife about her stupidity in disobeying their orders and casting aside the only match they had been able to make for her.

But at least it would be over.

The Duke of Reighland was still standing there, giving her the same curious, up-and-down examination that he had been. Then he asked, ‘Are you pregnant?’

‘Certainly not!’ Her cheeks heated and her palm itched to slap him for being so bold as to ask. Then a thought struck her. ‘If I was, then why would I bother to tell you?’

‘Why would you have told me anything?’ he asked back, just as sensibly. ‘If you wished to marry me, you would have kept quiet on the first point. But if you truly wished to frighten me away, you’d have lied about the second. The two statements, taken together, only make sense to me if they are true. They seem to imply that you are a most candid young lady. The truth is an admirable quality and quite rare in London. It must be cherished when it is found. I have learned all I wish to know. I will have you.’ He stepped closer to her and she felt a sudden panicked scrambling desire to move away, back across the room before he would touch her.

But he did nothing more than bow before her, taking her cold hand in his and offering a kiss that was the barest touch of his lips against the skin. ‘Now, with your permission, I will depart.’ He rose and smiled. ‘And with or without your permission, I will visit you again. While I am decided, I think we have more to discuss before an announcement can be made.’

She sat down on the couch behind her, numb with shock. He left the room and she could hear him speaking to her stepmother in the hall, arranging for another visit.

He was decided.

What had she said to him that had made the decision? She had done everything in her power to put him off. The truth, there at the end, should have been enough to send him running from the room. She was not good enough for him. Any rumours he might have heard of her elopement were true. She was ruined.

Yet he meant to come again. To persuade her. She felt a shudder rising from deep within her and tried to tell herself that it was revulsion. That was not true. But neither was it desire. She did not find him attractive. He was too large, too imposing and in all ways too blunt. She was not exactly frightened of him. That would be like fearing a mountain, or perhaps a cliff that one had no intention of standing on. It was more like awe, really.

She was not used to being in awe of anyone. The glamour of a title had been tarnished to her years ago.

And as for men?

She removed a handkerchief from her sleeve and delicately mopped her brow. Those secrets had been stripped away as well. Men were not nearly as pleasant as they appeared. She would be quite content to do without them, if only it would be permitted.

Veronica’s voice, as she saw the duke to the door, was light, flirtatious and sycophantic. Whatever Priss might feel on the subject, her prospective husband was a favourite of the household and she was unlikely to escape him.

She thought of the size of him and the way he would come to her, naked, hairy as a bear, crushing her body with his weight, sweating and grunting over her as he pushed and thrust.

There was a soft rip and she noticed that she had torn the lace on the corner of the handkerchief she’d forgotten she was holding. She would need to mend it before an explanation was required of her. There had been a time when she might have lost a hundred such linens and experienced no punishment. But that was when Dru had still been in the house and there had been no Veronica, eager to find fault with her.

The duke was barely gone from the room when the doors to the salon burst open and her stepmother entered. ‘Well, then?’

‘He has offered,’ Priss affirmed glumly.

Veronica clapped her hands together in triumph. ‘Lucky for us and far better than you deserve. I will put the announcement in The Times immediately.’

‘He does not wish to announce it yet,’ she said.