Page 2 of Once Ruined, Twice Shy

The crash of crockery jerked her away from the window, to gaze in horror at the wreck of a small porcelain figure on the hearthstone. Frederick’s face was thunderous. “Now look what you’ve made me do. I told you, I don’t want to talk about her. You say you love me, so why do you torment me like this?”

Confrontation was not the way to win him over. She hurried over and took his arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Well, you have. Truth is—I lost her.” There was genuine anguish on his face, mingled with rage.

“Oh.” She pulled him into her arms. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have pried—forgive me.”

He leaned against her and nuzzled at her neck. A good sign. He was always incandescent after they’d lain together, for a while at least. She ran a hand slowly down his back, her fingers lingering on his buttocks.

“You weren’t to know.” He kissed her temple, then her cheek, his heated lips stirring a flame of desire deep in her womb. She sighed, her body relaxing and melding with his as she pressed her hips against him.

His mouth met hers in a hard, sudden pressure, and she was slammed back towards the window. She struggled. “Don’t—people will see!”

“I care not.” He nipped at her lip, then her ear, and trailed his tongue along her collarbone. Her head tilted back—she couldn’t help it. Already, he’d bared her shoulder and was applying his mouth to it, making her bosom heave and her nipples rise in response.

She smiled, brushing a hand over his golden curls. Perhaps this time, when he made love to her, he wouldn’t pull out after he’d reached his peak. Maybe this time, he’d spill his seed in her, and fill her belly with a child, quell that loneliness she’d suffered most of her life.

Her chest heaved in delicious anticipation, but he jerked his head up, tugged her bodice back into place and took a pace backwards. The sensuous look had left his face.

“No.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I’m too tense to make love, too annoyed with you—I’ll not bed you now. We must settle this. I shan’t take you again until you comply.”

Sexual blackmail? She had no idea such a thing existed. How could he sink to such depths? She wondered—not for the first time—if this man was truly deserving of her love.

Ice skittered over her skin. What a fool she’d been, to put herself in his power, to isolate herself from the support of family and friends. They’d never forgive her, never take her back now she was ruined. Frederick was her only hope for future respectability, for a family life again.

And now he was pushing her away. Or would do, if she didn’t agree to manipulate and deceive another man. She sank into the nearest chair, pummelled by her thoughts, detesting herself for her weakness. It was wrong to do what Frederick wanted—that was the brutal truth. But not to do it would have dire consequences.

She had no rights. She was a kept woman. If Frederick chose not to keep her, she could end up on the streets, drunk, dejected, and sick, as had that most famous of mistresses, Lady Hamilton.

Her parents would never take her back—they held their respectability too dear. Papa had made his way to the rank of colonel through hard graft and by making the right acquaintances. Those powerful friends of his would drop him like a hot poker if he took his ruined daughter back under his roof. He’d done so much to keep her from the world, to deprive her of the company of others lest she be led astray, that she’d rebelled from frustration. She’d done exactly what he had always feared—run off with a soldier.

She knotted her hands together. “If I attempted it, and failed, what would happen then?”

Frederick fell to his knees before her. “You’ll consider it? You’re an absolute angel. I would marry you anyway. We’d live on air, admittedly, but you would have proved your love for me beyond a doubt.”

I rather think I’ve proved that already. She couldn’t look at him, could only stare at her hands while she fought back the tears. He shouldn’t be compelling her to do this. It was wrong, in so many ways.

She forced her voice to remain steady. “How is your scheme to be achieved?”

He leapt up, animated, happy now. She thought she’d never seen him look more handsome, more Apollo-like.

“I’ve thought it all through. You and I will take rooms at an inn not far from Spyle Court, Methuen’s residence. You are to fabricate an accident, that you may be carried into the house to be cared for. Don’t let any physicians look at you—cite modesty or something. You will appear to make a slow recovery so it’s evident you must remain under his roof as long as possible. Work your magic, Hestia. Make him love you if you can. I’ve taught you enough tricks to enable you to tempt a man. If we can’t hurt him in his purse, you can wound him in his heart, which will be revenge enough. And if you can find out by what means he’s undermining my financial stability, then I can work out how to put a stop to it.”

“I must make him care for me?” How was she supposed to do that? She was dark, plain, and ordinary—and no man before Frederick had ever shown any great interest in her. Not that her father had ever encouraged interest from any gentleman.

“Why, yes, for you will have to admit to having recovered from your injury eventually, and then what reason would he have to keep you there? No, you must get under his skin, make your presence essential to his happiness—as it is to mine, of course—so he cannot bear to part with you. But once we have destroyed all his documents pertaining to me, learned anything he has that could damage me, you will vanish from his life.”

“How do you know he won’t pursue me? Anyway, you said earlier he was a ‘cold fish’. So, even if I can win him over, he wouldn’t have heart enough to regret my departure.”

Frederick stiffened. “You put too many obstacles in the way of your happiness. Can you not trust me? Think of this as a gentleman’s bargain. I will do right by you if you do right by me. Anyway, we won’t be doing anything criminal—we won’t be stealing Methuen’s money. And even if we did, I’d feel no guilt over it, considering what he’s stolen from me.”

From below, the sound of children laughing filtered up through the opened window. Perhaps it was the Beckett girls coming home after a walk in the Sydney pleasure gardens. Such sweet children, devoted to one another, eager to please everyone they knew. If only she’d had a sibling with whom to share her secrets, her joys and disappointments. If only she had a child now upon whom to bestow her vast store of affection.

“A gentleman’s agreement. For marriage, and then we may start a family?”

He nodded. “Of course. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?”

Her hands clenched. “Very well. I’ll do it.”