Wedded in Scandal

Chapter 17

Robert felt his mouth go dry. She was dressed in midnight blue, her bodice plumped, her skirt flowing, and her hair in a beautiful tumble down her back. Normally he might have compared her to a queen from her boudoir, Venus at night, or any other extraordinarily beautiful woman. But he had no words at that moment. Only the full, incredible vision of her.

“Robert?”

“You look spectacular,” he finally managed.

“Oh. It was my mother’s. You’ve already seen my best dress. Sorry it took me so long to come down.”

He didn’t care whose dress it was, he was looking at her as if he’d never really seen her before. Ridiculous, he knew, but something about her was different. “What happened?”

She started. “What?”

“You’re different somehow. Less determined. Softer. More womanly.”

She arched a brow and a teasing glint entered her eyes. “Are you saying I wasn’t a woman before?”

He let his lips curve in a smile because she was teasing him. She knew exactly what he was talking about, but trying to dodge the issue. “I’m saying that you were handsome before, but now you’re stunning. I like your hair down.”

She touched it almost nervously. “I didn’t have time to style it.”

“Then I hope you are rushed every time I see you.” Then his expression slipped as he studied her face. “What has happened, Helaine?”

“Nothing. I have just had a busy day and a confusing conversation with my mother. And now…” She gestured toward him. “What is so urgent, my lord, that you had to come to my home rather than wait until tomorrow?”

“I didn’t think you’d really see me tomorrow.”

She lifted her chin. “I am not so inconsistent. I told you I would speak with you tomorrow and I would have.”

He nodded. “I know. But something else might have happened. Perhaps Gwen would have an emergency need for a new ribbon. Or one of her new relations would absolutely insist on your attention until you fainted from the tedium of it all—”

“They are not tedious. And you should speak better of your new relations.”

He barely resisted rolling his eyes at that. “They are women intent on fashion and the coming Season.”

“As am I.”

“But you are so much more.” He took a breath, unexpectedly nervous. So to cover, he stepped forward and took her hands. He wasn’t sure if she would allow it, but she was strangely accepting as she lifted her eyes to his. “Helaine, I have something I wish to show you. Something about myself that would ruin me almost as deeply as you would be if your identity were revealed.”

She started at his words. He felt the jolt through their joined hands. “Surely you exaggerate.”

He lifted a shoulder. “I would still have money, still become an earl in due course, but my reputation would always be tarnished, my motives suspect. I would be considered rather depraved by many and become a target of reformers and conservatives alike. Any political aspirations after that would become extremely difficult.”

She lifted her chin. “I do not believe you.”

He couldn’t help smiling. That was exactly the response he wanted. “Then let me show you the truth of it.”

She hesitated, and then she slowly withdrew her hands from his. “But why? Why would you wish to expose yourself thus to me?”

He wasn’t prepared to answer that, wasn’t ready to examine his motives so closely. So he opted for a portion of the truth. “I want you to think well of me.”

She arched her brow. “This thing that would have you scorned by liberals and conservatives alike? This will have me think well of you?”

“I hope so. Helaine, I cannot adequately explain it. I wish to show you.”

“I—” She cut off her words, turning away in confusion. “The world has gone upside down.”

He crossed to her and gently set his hands on her shoulders. Her back was to him and he felt her tighten. But not for long. In time she exhaled and her shoulders eased down. He longed to pull her into his arms, to hold her while they both sorted out their thoughts, but he didn’t dare. Instead he waited and prayed she would choose to trust him.

She did, but he had to wait an eternity for it. In the end, she stepped away from his hands and said, “I will get a wrap.” She meant to step away from him, but he touched her arm lightly to stop her. She paused, looking at him in inquiry.

“What decided you in my favor?”

“There was no real decision, my lord. I am too weak around you. No matter that my common sense says being around you is too dangerous, I cannot force myself to listen. I enjoy your company, and…and I suppose that is reason enough for me to ignore everything else.”

He smiled. He couldn’t help himself. He liked that she would ignore all else to trust him. “Then let us say you are just weak enough. After all, a woman of too much strength is frightening to us poor men.”

Her lips curved in response, and he saw a delightful twinkle enter her eyes. “And then there is the other reason.”

“Yes?” he prompted when she didn’t continue.

“I very much want to know what could hurt you, my lord. I shall not use it, but I should like to know this thing.”

He tilted his head, wondering at her logic. “But if you won’t use it, then what good will it be to you?”

“You will know that I know, and that I could go back on my word at any moment. I find I like the idea of you being afraid of me. Not a lot. Just enough so you understand how I feel every day.”

His smile slid away. “Do you truly feel that afraid? Every day?”

She nodded. She didn’t even say the word, but he could read it in her face. She was afraid constantly. That was expected, he supposed, with her world teetering on the financial edge as it did.

“I could relieve that fear, you know. As my mistress, you would have ample money to support yourself and your friends.” He said the words, but they tasted bad in his mouth. And in his heart, he flinched. He did not like thinking of her as his mistress. And yet, the idea of lying with her was a constant desire. Even now he was hard with lust, though he took pains to hide it.

And while he was struggling with his conflicting emotions, she simply shrugged. “Fear is not so bad. It keeps my thinking clear.” Then she flashed a rueful smile at him. “Most of the time, at least.”

Then she disappeared upstairs, presumably to get her wrap. He heard her kiss her mother good night, then her light tread as she came down the stairs. As she alighted from the last step, he held out his hand to her. She didn’t even hesitate. In fact, there was a smile on her lips as he escorted her to the waiting hansom cab.

She faltered just a moment when she saw the conveyance. “You didn’t bring your carriage?”

“Not for where we are going. My servants talk enough as it is.”

She seemed to understand that, and so allowed him to hand her into the cab. He gave the driver instructions and then joined her inside. And because it was cold, he settled beside her on the seat and tucked her close. Finally, amazingly, she was in his arms again.

Helaine closed her eyes and allowed the world to spin, spin, spin out of control. How many unbelievable things had happened since she had woken up not more than an hour ago? First her mother had all but said, Go and become Lord Redhill’s mistress. Second, Robert had a secret that he was going to share with her. And most incredible of all: her mother didn’t hate her father. It seemed like such a silly little thing, and yet, that was what kept whirling about her brain. She didn’t hate him.

“What has you looking so lost?” Robert asked.

She bit her lip and guiltily lifted out of his arms. He resisted at first, but she persisted. Friends didn’t press themselves so tightly together. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to sour the mood.”

His hand flowed over the top of hers, and she felt his warmth seep into her even through their gloves. “I want to know what you are thinking, not change the atmosphere, Helaine. Surely you know that by now.”

“Yes, of course. But…” She didn’t know how to begin. “It will sound stupid.”

“Then by all means, I must hear it now!”

She chuckled because he meant her to. And then, because it was so easy to talk with him, she found herself answering without measuring her words. She just spoke, and it felt good to work it out with another person. With him.

“My mother told me something shocking before I went down to see you. I daresay it doesn’t seem very shocking, but you must understand. I spent my childhood listening to her revile my father.”

“What did she say?”

“That even now, she would not change a thing. She would still marry him.”

She felt him stiffen, pulling back with surprise. “Truly? She would still…After what he did?”

Helaine nodded, relieved that she could finally speak openly with someone about her father. “His theft was the least of it, you know. He was a drunkard, pure and simple.”

He squeezed her hand, and she realized belatedly that somehow she had reversed her position. They were now holding hands palm to palm, and she could not bring herself to let him go. Meanwhile, he shifted slightly in his seat. “Don’t feel as if you need to explain if it’s too painful, but I wondered exactly—”

“You wish to know the details of what my father did?”

Robert nodded. “I only know that he stole from the military supplies.”

She laughed, the sound bitter to her own ears. “That at least I could understand. If he stole supplies to sell to pay our rent or something like that. But no. He had a good friend. A drinking friend, of course, who was in charge of certain military shipments to Spain.” Then she paused to look into his eyes. “Do you know what he stole, my lord? What my father, the Earl of Chelmorton, took from our boys fighting so far away?”

He shook his head.

“Expensive brandy. Wealthy families would ship excellent spirits across the ocean to their officer sons. Half the bottles never made it. Sailors, dockworkers, and the doctors were always nabbing one bottle or another. The doctors at least were taking it for anesthetic. The others…” She shrugged.

“Yes, I understand there is a great deal of theft in military supplies.”

“Yes, well, my father is just one of a long list of thieves in that supply chain. Except he did not steal a single bottle here or there. He stole an entire case. And not just any case, but one meant for the Earl of Bedford’s son.”

Robert released a low whistle. “Bedford is not a man who tolerates theft lightly. And certainly not anything meant for his son.”

“Yes, so we came to realize.”

“But how did Bedford find out? Especially if the case had already entered military shipping?”

Helaine laughed. “My father is a talkative drunk, my lord. Having grabbed such an excellent brandy, he immediately had a party. And when asked by his drinking companions where he’d found such wonderful vintage, he told them. He just…told them. And there were likely servants there, too.”

“Good Lord.”

“In any event, Bedford found out and cried foul…”

“And your father was soon banned from society and you along with him.”

She let her head lean back against Robert’s arm and wondered how she could possibly be about to cry. She hadn’t cried about this in so very long. “My father was a drunk and a fool, and because of that—”

“Because of him, you and your mother have had to fend for yourselves from almost the very start.” He sighed. “Which means, of course, that you have been the one doing it.”

“Oh, no! At first my mother was quite the wizard at keeping us together. At finding the way to get us a free meal or new clothing on the sly. But most of that was dependent upon society. Upon friends who invited us to their homes for tea or the like. Once, I believe, one of her oldest friends paid my tuition at school.”

“But some scandals cannot be overcome, even by old and very dear friends.”

She sighed, mourning more for all that her mother had lost rather than herself. “Mama had married for love, you see. I knew that, of course. Papa could be so much fun.”

“No wonder you take a dim view of passion, Helaine. You have seen how very costly it can be.”

She nodded, seeing that he was right. Perhaps that was why she was so shocked by her mother’s revelation. “She hates him, though. She has said so often. She said it tonight as well, almost in the very same breath that she said she would do it all over again. It makes no sense.”

“But isn’t that the point of love? To not make sense?”

“But she hates him. I know she does.”

“And she still loves him. The two are not so incompatible.”

She twisted so that she could look him in the eye. “Of course they are. Hate and love are opposites. My mother is simply confused.”

He laughed then. A low, rich sound that rumbled through his body into hers. It was so delightful a sensation that she could not be angry with him for laughing at her. “You would rather believe your mother insane than in love?”

“I would rather the world made sense again. My father is a cad and a fool. My mother would be better off having never met him, never loved him, never married him.”

“And yet she said tonight that she still loves him. And that bothers you.”

“How would you like proof positive that your mother is insane?”

He snorted. “We shall leave my mother and her ailments out of this, hm? We are speaking of your parents. I, for one, find it reassuring that love can withstand even the most terrible things. Yes, you suffered horribly because of your father’s mistakes, but the heart does not adhere to logic. And it can love despite someone’s faults.” He twisted slightly and she could see his eyes squint at her in the darkness. “Is that why you have never married? Never found a lover?”

“What?”

“Because you are looking for someone without faults. Someone who will not disappoint you as your father has done.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. No one is without faults.”

“Exactly. And so you are alone.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. She wanted to dismiss his idea out of hand, but inside she quailed. Was it true? Had she locked herself away because no man could possibly be perfect enough to not hurt her? “Then why am I here with you?” she said aloud, the question more for herself than for him.

He tweaked her chin. “Perhaps because I am as perfect as you can find?”

She snorted. “Hardly that.”

“And yet, I am not so bad, either.”

“What you are, my lord, is extraordinarily persistent. How many times have I rebuffed you? And yet you show up at my doorway and demand to see me.”

“I made no demands,” he said with pretend hauteur. “I merely asked.”

“It is one and the same with you.”

“You did not need to come down.”

She shrugged. “My mother insisted.”

“Now, that is a bald-faced lie!”

“She did!”

“And you could have easily refused. But instead you put on a gown, brushed your hair, and are now here with me. Why, Helaine? I’m grateful, of course, but why?”

She shook her head. “I told you before. Because I want to see this secret of yours.”

“Ah, yes,” he said, though she could tell by his tone that he didn’t really believe her. “Then I suppose it is fortunate that we are here.”

She straightened up from his side. She hadn’t even noticed the cab slowing down, but a moment later the door was opened and the driver was handing her down. She stepped out and looked around, recognizing the district if not their actual location.

“Why would you bring me here?” she gasped. They were in the center of a row of large houses pressed tightly together. Farther down the street, a barely dressed woman stood at a doorway gesturing men inside. They were in an area known for its houses of prostitution, and he had brought her here!

She was turning around to get right back into the carriage when he pulled her wrap over her head to shield her face. “Cover your head,” he said, “and keep tight to me until we are inside.”

“But—”

“Trust me!” he hissed as he grabbed her elbow and half walked, half marched her to a door. Had she been thinking more clearly, she would have resisted. There could be no good reason for him to take her to a place like this. But she was always muddleheaded around him, and so she went with him, ducking quickly inside when the door opened. Fortunately her madness never lasted for long. Once inside, she rounded on him immediately, her mouth open to blast him for whatever he thought he was doing. But her words were stopped in midbreath.

They were standing in the middle of a large entry overdone in velvets and gilt. There were candles everywhere, or their stubs at least, and an open, spacious feel that she couldn’t help but appreciate. It was exactly as she might expect from a house of prostitution, except that she didn’t see any. No prostitutes. And even more confusing, she didn’t hear any. What she heard was children laughing. Three, if she had to guess—two girls and boy—but she wasn’t sure.

“They’re playing with the kittens,” said the woman who had opened the door. “An’ jes’ like I said, that mama cat’s the best mouser I ever seen.”

Helaine didn’t know what to say. Nothing made sense. Meanwhile, Robert was pushing the door closed and latching it with long familiarity. As he turned back, he touched Helaine’s elbow. “Mrs. Mortimer, may I present to you Chandelle of the Chandler.”

The woman dropped into a neat curtsy, though her knees cracked as she did it. “Right pleased I am to meet any friend of Robert’s. I heard tell of your shop. Supposed to be right lovely designs.”

“Uh—thank you,” Helaine responded, her gaze now taking in the woman before her. She was dressed practically, in warm wool of a common design. Her eyes were lined with wrinkles, not kohl, and she wore no jewels or anything, for that matter, that was designed to attract a man. She was as far from a working girl as Helaine could imagine, and that confused her even more.

“Chandelle used to be a madame of a house of prostitution called the Chandler,” he began.

“But we ain’t been doing that since ’is sixteenth birthday,” cut in Chandelle. “Now we’re jes’ a home for rest. Plus then there’s the kids.” At her gesture, they walked around a corner of the large room. There, rolling about on the floor, were three children and five kittens. The children were on their feet in a moment, all crowding around Robert. They were so thick that Helaine almost missed the younger woman sitting nearby. Her face was sallow, her eyes dull, but she smiled when she saw them and she greeted them in a whisper.

“Evenin’, sir, miss.”

Robert spent a few moments with each child, speaking to them by name and asking over this or that. Helaine could tell he was well known and trusted by each child. Then he detached himself from the group to kneel before the young woman, his gaze intent on her face. “Good evening, Nettie. You shouldn’t be out of bed.”

“Ain’t no bleeding or swelling,” she said. For proof, she took his hand and pressed it to her left side. Robert’s eyes narrowed as he poked lightly. She winced with every touch.

“It’s still tender.”

“’Course it be,” Nettie answered as she pushed his hand away. “What with you prodding at it. You leave it alone. I’m watching the children.”

He stood up with a smile. “Very well, but not too long, mind.”

Chandelle stepped in. “She’ll go to bed in five minutes, along with the children.”

A chorus of dissent rose up from that statement, but Chandelle gave them all a stern eye. She didn’t even have to say a word, and within a minute, every one of them said a soft “Yes, ma’am.” Helaine couldn’t help but be impressed. Clearly Chandelle was the law around here. Meanwhile, Robert took her elbow and steered her back toward the main entranceway.

“My father gave me the Chandler on my sixteenth birthday not knowing, of course, that all the women here were sick with a fever. He left, but I stayed on, helping to nurse them. We’ve been a hospital of sorts ever since then, but the name remains.”

She stopped dead in her tracks, her mind working too slowly. “So I wasn’t wrong. This is…It was…”

“Yep,” inserted Chandelle as she came forward. “It were, but it ain’t been that for a long time now. Go on,” she said as she gestured them upstairs. “Go on and show ’er what you really do when you come here.” Then she released a cackle. “Well, that’s when I ain’t got him doing bedpans.”

Helaine gasped. “You…you empty bedpans?”

He gave her a rueful look. “On occasion.”

“Ha!” Chandelle inserted. “I makes sure ’e does ’em once a week just to keep ’im humble.”

Helaine felt a smile curve her lips. “I’m afraid it’s not working very well, then. Perhaps you should increase the frequency.”

Robert groaned. “Lord, Helaine, I didn’t bring you here to get me in trouble.”

“Twice a week it is,” confirmed Chandelle. “Now go on up! Afore the rats get yer dinner.”

Robert arched a brow in mock challenge. “I thought you said the mama cat was a great mouser.”

“She’s only one cat!” Chandelle exclaimed. “She can’t get them all. Now shoo! You know the children won’t go to bed if yer around to play with.”

At that Robert extended his hand to Helaine. She took it and they began to climb. It wasn’t a long way to the upper floor, but she spent the whole time sorting through what she’d seen and what she’d guessed. It started with Gwen. “Your sister has no idea about this, does she? Not what the Chandler was or what you’ve made of it.”

“It mortifies me to think that she’s heard of this. I will have to explain it to her, so she knows not to be blurting it out.”

“Why haven’t you already?”

He grimaced as they topped the last step. “Because it is none of her business!” he groused. “This is my place. Every gentleman should have a place to go for some peace. This is mine.”

“Most men pick gaming clubs.”

He snorted. “Betting on a roll of the dice has always seemed singularly useless to me. The stakes are too low. Money, pshaw! Trying to find the cure for the pox or a bad knife wound, now that is a puzzle for a man.”

Helaine had no answer for that, and while she sorted through those words, he squeezed her fingers. “Forgive me, but I really need to check on the baby. His mother died a few days ago. We’ve found a wet nurse, but one can never tell if the babe will take.” So saying, he knocked lightly on the nearest door, waiting until it opened. There stood a woman with full breasts and a milk-stained gown.

“Just got them both down, sir. Sleeping like a dream.”

Robert tiptoed inside to look down at two cribs, the first with a girl who had the nurse’s light brown hair. But the second was a tiny boy with dark hair and the tiniest little face Helaine had ever seen. He couldn’t be more than a couple weeks old at most.

“So he’s feeding?” Robert asked the woman.

“Oh, yes, poor mite. Took a bit o’ coaxing, but he’s all right and tight wi’ it now.”

“Thank you, Nan. You make sure to tell Chandelle if you need anything.”

“We be right perfect, we is. I can’t thank you enough for letting us stay here. We were in a right poor way, me and my Missy.”

Robert held up his hand to stop the effusive thanks. “That was Chandelle’s doing, not mine.”

“But you paid fer the doctor—”

“Chandelle did. Good night, Nan.” And with that, he backed out of the room.

Helaine snorted. “Liar,” she whispered after he had shut the door.

He spun around. “What?”

“You are paying for this. For everything.”

His lips quirked, but he shook his head. “Chandelle manages it all. I merely visit from time to time.”

“To clean bedpans.”

“Yes. And to…I’m sorry. One moment more.” He tapped on another door, opening it when a quavering voice bade him enter. Inside was an old woman, clearly bedridden, but with eyes that warmed to light honey when she saw him.

“Sir!” she cried, then she descended into a bout of coughing that left her weak and pale.

He crossed to her quickly, supporting her body as she gasped for breath, then helping her drink from a glass of water when she was done. “It is not helping, is it?” he asked when she was finally back against her pillows, her breath shallow but steady.

“It’s my time, sir. Ain’t no medicine…can stop it now.”

“No, Miss Mary, it isn’t. We shall find—”

“Stop!” she said with as much force as she could muster. “This your woman?”

“I—,” he began, but his words were cut off as Miss Mary waved Helaine forward.

“Come, come. Let me see…who ye finally picked.”

Helaine stepped in. “Hello. My name is Mrs. Mortimer, and yes, I am certainly a friend of—”

“Sir,” he said quickly, cutting her off. “I am simply ‘Sir’ here.”

She arched her brow, but showed her understanding with a slight nod. “We are friends, he and I. Besides, I begin to think you ladies are his real love.”

The woman laughed at that, her mouth opening to a toothless grin, but she hadn’t enough breath for a real laugh. In the end, she settled with a pat on Robert’s hand as she caught her breath. “He ain’t brought…no one here. Nor took…any woman. We all offered.”

“You took sick,” said Robert as he pressed a kiss to the back of Miss Mary’s hand. “Otherwise I would have tumbled madly in love with you.”

Miss Mary smiled, but her eyes were on Helaine. “Hurt ’im,” she said, “an’ I’ll haunt you. Your hair’ll go white. Teeth rot. Haunt you—”

“I shall not hurt him,” Helaine said.

“Swear it.”

Robert patted the woman’s hand, trying to distract her. “There’s no need—”

“I swear I shall do everything I can to see him happy,” she said, surprising herself with her words. But even as she said them, there was a rightness to it. Whatever else Lord Redhill was, he was a good man. Any man who could create a place like this—a home where women and children lived in happiness—was a worthy man in her eyes. His Grosvenor Square home showed the privilege of his rank. But this place, with the poor and the dying, was something else entirely. This showed his true heart.

Miss Mary held her gaze for a long while, impressing her will upon Helaine. It was odd getting this steely a gaze from a dying woman, but there was strength in Miss Mary despite her frail body, and Helaine had no doubt she could make good on her threat to haunt anyone who hurt her “Sir.”

In the end, the woman was satisfied. Miss Mary let her eyes drift closed as she patted Robert’s hand. “Go. Be young. Make babies.”

“I shall talk to the doctor tomorrow about your medicine. We shall find something to help.”

Miss Mary didn’t answer except to wave him away. He nodded to her, though she couldn’t see it, and tiptoed out. Helaine followed a half step behind. He didn’t speak again until after the door was pulled tightly shut.

“She was Chandelle’s madame, once upon a time. Quite a beauty, too. Used to run three houses with twenty girls each.”

Helaine gasped, her eyes going back to the shut door. “She pulled girls into this life? Into—”

“Don’t judge,” he said quickly. “The girls would be taking men either way. Best they do it in a clean, safe place where they’re paid for their service.” He turned to her, and in his eyes she could see that he wanted her to understand, to see the women beneath the job.

“Of course,” she said slowly. She well knew the desperate straits a woman could face. She would not judge any woman who chose that path. But what about the woman who paved the road? Who trapped others into the life? In her mind, they were all like Johnny Bono, taking advantage where they could in service to their own base needs.

She felt his hand on her chin, encouraging her to look him in the eye. “This is a place for women to come and die with dignity. Or to heal from wounds, like Nettie. She was stabbed by her customer because he didn’t want to pay. Chandelle mans the door, and only she can ask what happened to bring them here. I don’t care. Can you understand that, Helaine? I don’t care who they were. Only what I see before me: sick women who need a little care.”

Helaine swallowed, ashamed of her own prejudices. She never would have thought that Robert would have a better understanding of the poor and the weak than she. She never would have thought he would prove to be kinder than she. But he was. This place proved it.

“Show me the rest, Robert. Let me see it all.”

His smile showed relief and joy, and before long, she was peeking in on ten ladies, plus Chandelle and the children. And then on the topmost floor was one last room, which he proclaimed his sanctuary. Pushing it open, she saw a ratty desk piled high with notes, another table of bottles containing what must be medicines, a plate of cold chicken and wine—their dinner, she presumed—and a large, comfortable bed stacked high with pillows.

“Please come in, Helaine,” he said. “There is but one thing more, and then you shall know it all.”

“All, my lord? Everything there is about you? If there is one thing I have learned this evening, it is that there are always more layers to you than I imagine.”

He shrugged. “My heart, then, Helaine. You shall learn my true heart.”