She hadn’t given herself to him lightly and couldn’t cut him from her heart because she didn’t want to feel for him everything she did.
To Elizabeth’s surprise, her mother agreed that she should remain in London, reminding her gently to always remember to walk with her head up high.
~*~*~
Two days later, Derek awoke to a misty gray morning as much a part of London as Newgate and royalty. By the time he arrived at White’s for a prearranged meeting with Cartwright, his mood was black as the night skies.
They took a table on the second floor and spoke of the mundane as they played all fours before Derek collected the cards at the close of the second game and carefully placed the deck on the redwood surface between them.
With a pointed look at the cards and then at Derek, Cartwright raised a quizzical brow. “Is it the prospect of your upcoming nuptials that has you looking so morose or can that be blamed on the company?” his friend asked wryly.
“I will not be wedding Miss Smith.”
Cartwright’s mouth flattened into a straight line. “Pardon?” he asked in a deceptively soft voice. The calm before the storm.
“Before you call me out, at least do me the courtesy of listening to what I have to say.” They lived in modern times but duels were not beyond the realm of possibility, although he imagined it’d be Rutherford he’d be meeting across the field at dawn. Derek hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
Cartwright’s jaw was tight as if he were gritting his teeth. He jerked his chin motioning Derek to continue.
And so he recounted the tumultuous history between the families—an incident he hadn’t shared with a soul—and his meeting with the baroness.
At the conclusion, his friend let out a single expletive. “Doesn’t she give a damn that her daughter will be disgraced?”
“Apparently she’d rather that than have me as a son-in-law.” Which made not one whit of sense. If Elizabeth married him, she’d want for nothing.
Except a husband who loved her.
Bloody hell, the woman had told him to stay away from her daughter. Why was he still thinking about Elizabeth? When would it stop? Missing her? Wanting her?
“Hell, you called her eldest daughter a liar and a gold digger and insinuated she and her husband were extortionists. Did you expect her to smile prettily and welcome you with open arms?” Cartwright asked, his voice low and fierce, his form nearly vibrating like a plucked tine.
Derek’s back stiffened in affront. “I merely spoke the truth. Good God man, I was there.”
“No, your brother was there not you. You have only his word he didn’t seduce the girl and divest her of her virginity.”
“His word is good enough for me.”
Cartwright had the gall to look skeptical.
“And Miss Smith, the one you did compromise, what do you intend to do about her? She’s in need of a husband.”
Not one hour passed when he didn’t think about her, when he didn’t remember what she’d looked like naked on the bed, the glossy sheen of her tangled hair spread against the stark whiteness of the bed sheets. He remembered too her quiet smile, her soft laugh, her inquisitive eyes and easy company.
If she had been anyone else than who she was, he would have married her.
But all the ifs in the world wouldn’t change that he couldn’t trust her.
“She doesn’t need a husband,” Derek replied quietly, thinking about the report on his desk. “I’ve taken care of that.”
~*~*~
Derek saw his brother once a year, which was not at the height of the London Season. Henry normally packed up his brood at Christmastide to make the trip to the estate in Berkshire, the location of the viscountcy seat. But when Derek returned to his residence the day after he’d spoken with Cartwright, he found his brother reclining in his favorite chair in the library.
“What the devil are you doing here?” As much as he loved his younger brother, Derek wasn’t exactly fit for company. He and Cartwright hadn’t parted on cordial terms or spoken since.
And it had been three days since he’d last seen Elizabeth. He hated that that even signified.
His brother pushed his lanky frame from the chair, the same easy grin he’d used to charm his way out of plenty of trouble beamed from his face.
“Hey old man, you’re looking quite prosperous.” He thrust out his hand, which Derek shook as he tamped down a niggling sense of irritation. This old business with Henry was now more than a thorn in his side, it now haunted him.
“As are you. What have I done to deserve a visit?” Derek motioned his brother back into his chair, while he took the one opposite.
“Well, if you want to know the truth, I heard the most ghastly rumor and thought I’d come up and get the truth right from the horse’s mouth—so to speak.”
Elizabeth. There could be no other reason.
When Derek didn’t immediately respond, Henry tilted his head to the side, his dark brow propped high. “Would you like to know what I heard?”
“I’m sure you didn’t come all this way to not tell me.”
His brother abandoned his indolent pose and came forward in his seat. “I can see that it’s true. You are courting the younger Smith girl.” Henry made it an accusation.
Derek didn’t very much care for his tone.
“And if I am?” Derek wasn’t certain he hadn’t said it just to be contrary.
His brother went silent as if his power of speech had suddenly abandoned him. Unfortunately, he found it soon enough.
“Have you gone completely mad, man? After our dealings with that family?” Henry asked, the whites of his eyes clearly visible.
“This matter is none of your concern.” The very, very last thing Derek wished to discuss with his brother was Elizabeth Smith.
Henry’s eyes narrowed. He then asked softly as if his suspicion had not yet been fully realized, “Did you bed her?”
Derek came abruptly to his feet. This discussion was officially over. “I just told you that my relationship with Miss Smith is my personal affair and therefore, no concern to you.”
Relationship. Derek wasn’t sure who was more stunned by his injudicious use of the word, him or his brother. And this after having had her once and knowing her the duration of three weeks.
“Did she tell you that you were her first? I hope you didn’t believe her. Her sister said the same to me.”
It took a moment before Derek understood the full import of his brother’s vehement claim. His mind reeled and his belly lurched sickly. If betrayal had a sound, at present it was buzzing in his ears. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and too controlled. “You told me you hadn’t bedded her. You swore it on our grandmother’s grave.”
A look of sheepishness flashed across his brother’s face. It lasted but a moment. “What else did you expect me to say? I certainly wasn’t going to marry her.” His mouth curled in disdain. “I knew if I told you the truth, you would puff up your chest and lecture me on honor, integrity and that sort of thing.”
Derek clenched his hands into fists, forcibly holding them pinned to his sides lest he strike his brother as he greatly yearned to. Instead he breathed, drawing in large drafts of air into his lungs. “I went to their home, stood in the middle of their parlor and called their daughter a gold-digger—insinuated she was little more than a whore.”
“She was a gold-digger. The fact that I shagged her in no way changes that. I probably wasn’t the first man she’d tried it with. You thought as much yourself.”