‘Deb did not attend Lady Sally’s dinner with us and everyone knows it.’ Ross said bluntly. He shook his head. ‘My dear Olivia, that story will not hold water for two minutes.’
‘Then there is the fact that Deb is betrothed to Lord Richard,’ Olivia continued. ‘Yes, she has been reckless, but it could be a great deal worse-’
‘I broke the engagement two nights ago,’ Deb said.
Both Olivia and Ross swung round to look at her with identical expressions of horror.
‘You broke the engagement,’ Ross said carefully, after a moment, ‘yet you spent the night with the man? Will I ever understand you, Deborah?’
‘Oh, Deb!’ Olivia wailed. ‘Please tell me that no one knows you broke it off!’
‘I have not told anyone,’ Deb said, ‘but I intend to. With Guy’s wedding cancelled there can be no reason for the engagement to continue-’
‘No reason!’ Ross exploded. ‘Never mind the betrothal, there is every reason for a marriage to take place!’
Deb tried not to cry. ‘I will not marry Richard Kestrel!’ she said. ‘Why should he be compromised into marriage with me when the whole matter was my idea? I was the one who instigated this! I asked him to be my lover!’
‘Deb!’ Ross and Olivia’s outraged cries mingled with the sound of the door opening.
‘Lord Richard Kestrel,’ the maid announced.
Deb froze. She had wanted to finish her discussion with Olivia and Ross before she faced the equally difficult task of speaking to Richard, but, since she had given the maid no instructions to refuse him-and since he would probably have ignored them anyway-she was not going to have that chance.
She knew that she had to dismiss him. Their betrothal was at an end and that one perfect night of passion was over. Yet now when she saw him all she wanted to do was run to him and throw herself into his arms. She loved him hopelessly.
‘Richard!’ she said, and heard her voice break on the word.
Richard heard it too. He came across and took her hand and Deb could feel the warmth and reassurance flowing from his body to hers.
‘Sweetheart-’ His lips pressed her hair. His arm went about her. Deb leaned against his strength and fought against the feeling of coming home. She could not permit herself to depend on him.
Olivia was looking almost as relieved as Deb felt. Ross was looking murderous.
‘What the hell were you thinking of, Kestrel?’ he said to Richard. He paced across to the window. ‘No, don’t answer that. On reflection it’s easy to see exactly what you were thinking of! When you asked my permission to woo Deborah, I did not appreciate what it was that you had in mind! Why the devil you could not have waited until you were married-?’
‘Ross,’ Olivia said again, putting a hand on her husband’s arm, ‘since Deb and Richard are to be married, I think we could put aside our differences.’
But Deb was not listening. She was looking from Ross’s face to Richard’s as the coldness clutched at her heart and seeped from there to every corner of her being. She freed herself of Richard’s protective arm and took two steps backward.
‘You asked Ross’s permission to court me?’ she said to Richard, her voice a whisper. ‘You discussed marrying me? You hatched some plan with him and never spoke of it to me?’
She saw Richard’s gaze snap back to her, saw his eyes narrow on her face. ‘Deborah,’ he began carefully, ‘it was not in the least like that.’
Deb had started to shake. ‘No? How was it, then?’
Richard drove his hands into his pockets. ‘Can we talk about this alone?’ he asked, with restraint.
‘No!’ Deb’s chin came up. ‘Since you discussed my future with reference to everyone else before, it seems appropriate that they can be party to the discussions now! After all, they already know far more about it than I do. Apparently I am to be married off without my knowledge!’
‘It was not like that,’ Richard said again, quietly but inexorably. ‘Deb, I love you! I have loved you for months! I want to marry you.’
Deb felt hot, humiliated and hurt. All the time that she had been making plans for her temporary betrothal, Richard had been talking to Ross of quite a different scheme. He had fallen in with her proposal whilst planning something else entirely. And he had not told her.
She felt foolish and manipulated. Richard had told her that he had explained the situation to Ross, and yet that had not been true. He must have told Ross everything-that she had advertised for a temporary fiancé, that he was playing along with her until he could persuade her into a real betrothal. She had confided in Richard that her marriage to Neil Stratton had been unhappy and that she had no desire to wed ever again, and yet he had paid her scant heed. And last night…She covered her face briefly with her hands. Last night she had given herself to him body and soul. She had finally realised that she loved him with all her heart and that, although to overcome her scruples about marriage would require a leap of faith, she might even have been able to have had the courage. Under other circumstances…
‘And when were you going to tell me of your plans for me?’ Deb asked, her voice shaking. ‘After you had told Ross and Olivia and everyone else, and conspired to make me accept you?’ Her voice rose. ‘No doubt I should be grateful to be offered marriage, with my tarnished reputation!’ She swung round on them all, the pain lodged in a hot ball in her chest. ‘But do you know-I am not grateful in the least! You are just like my father-’ she turned on Richard ‘-planning to marry me off regardless of my wishes. You, and Ross, and everyone else who has made arrangements for me of which I was totally unaware! You cannot allow me to make my own choices, nor give me the freedom to do as I choose! That was all I wanted! To be allowed the choice!’
Richard put out a hand to her. There was something that looked like pain in his eyes and Deb could not allow herself to look on it because it moved her unbearably. She turned away but still she could not block out his words.
‘I love you, Deb. I did not tell you or propose to you before because I was afraid. I knew of your doubts about marriage and I was afraid of losing the one thing that was becoming more precious to me as every day passed-’
Deb put her hands over her ears. ‘I trusted you,’ she said, and as she spoke she realised that it was true. ‘I never thought that I would trust anyone again, but I trusted you.’
She whirled around and made for the door, pausing when she reached it. ‘Let me be quite clear,’ she said, her voice shaking. ‘I do not wish to marry you, Lord Richard. I do not wish to see you again.’
Olivia came up to the bedroom and found Deb in a tearful heap on the bed. Deb felt her sister touch her shoulder gently and after a moment the tension went out of her body and she allowed Olivia to draw her close and give her a hug. It was unusual for Olivia to be so demonstrative, but Deb found it enormously comforting. She hiccuped a little and reached for a pillowcase to dry her tears. ‘We cannot be forever crying over each other.’
‘No,’ Olivia said, proffering her own scrap of cambric handkerchief. ‘I am sorry, Deb. Sorry that I deceived you, I mean.’ She grimaced. ‘I knew Richard wanted to marry you, and I was so pleased!’ She looked at Deb’s tear-swollen face and shook her head slightly. ‘He loves you very much, you know, Deb, and you love him too…’
Deb bit her lip on a denial. What was the point? She had admitted to herself only that morning that she loved Richard with all her heart. If she had not, she would not be feeling so distressed now.
She twisted her hands together. ‘He did not tell me he loved me,’ she said.
Olivia raised her brows. ‘Did you tell him that you loved him?’
‘No, but that is different.’ Deb blushed. ‘I only realised…’ her voice dropped ‘…this morning, after we…’
Olivia laughed. ‘Oh, Deb!’ She sobered up. ‘It was wrong of Richard to mislead you, but his motives were sincere. He knew that you had no wish to wed again and all he wanted was the opportunity to court you. He was in the devil of a fix, you know, wishing to reassure Ross and myself that his intentions were honourable, but also needing to win your trust-’ She broke off. ‘But you must discuss this with Richard himself. It is not for me to say.’
‘I trusted him,’ Deb said in a tired voice. ‘I trusted him and he betrayed me.’
‘Did he?’ Olivia said, and Deb jumped at the ring of steel in her gentle sister’s voice. ‘You think that you are the only one deceived? And what sort of trust is it that does not even tell Richard the truth of your own situation? I’ll wager that you have not told him about your first marriage, have you?’
Deb froze. She felt simultaneously hot and cold, her heart ice, the prickling heat breaking out over her whole body. ‘You did not tell Richard that I was never married to Neil? Tell me that he does not know!’
‘I have not told him,’ Olivia said, ‘and nor has Ross.’ Her expression was hard. ‘It is your place to do that-if you truly love him. If you trust him, you could tell him anything.’
‘No,’ Deb whispered. ‘I cannot.’
Olivia shrugged, but her hard expression had softened into something like pity. ‘That is, of course, your choice, Deb, just as it is up to you whether or not you marry Richard.’ She stood up. ‘I hope that you will feel well enough to go out later. Do not forget that it is the private view for Lady Sally’s watercolour book tonight.’
Deb caught her breath. ‘I cannot attend-’
Olivia looked cross. ‘You must. Show some spirit, Deb!’
‘Tell everyone that I am ill!’ Deb begged. ‘I cannot bear to go into company.’
‘Since everyone is talking scandal about you,’ Olivia said, with asperity, ‘you will attend to quash the rumours. I have had enough of this, Deb! Stop feeling sorry for yourself. We shall collect you at eight.’
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