A scoundrels surrender, p.10
A Scoundrel's Surrender, page 10
“My lady,” a servant said as he stepped into the room. “Supper is served.”
The family rose as Lady Stratfield nodded to the footman. She moved toward Caleb, but to Marah’s surprise he frowned and turned to his brother. “Justin, why don’t you escort Mother? I’ll take Victoria.”
The marchioness only hesitated for a moment, but the sadness in her eyes was clear in that fraction of time. Still, she turned to Justin with a smile that hid her hurt and let her elder son take her from the room. Caleb and Victoria followed, which left Marah with Tessa.
The other woman, who had until that moment been so vivacious and light, now glared at her brother as he walked from the room.
“I don’t understand how he can treat her so, especially when her heart is breaking over Father,” Tessa whispered.
Marah shifted with discomfort. The other woman was speaking to herself more than to Marah, but it was more than this glimpse into a stranger’s heart that made her uneasy. Marah knew something that Tessa Talbot did not. Something that the girl would likely never know even though it involved her family.
She smiled. “Shall we follow, Lady Tessa?”
Tessa shook off her emotions and smiled at Marah, though she could see it was but a shadow of her previous joyful grin. “Of course, my apologies.”
Marah walked from the room with her, talking quietly as they made the short journey to the dining room. But as they did, she couldn’t help but look ahead of her at Caleb.
Tessa was right that by his behavior he was hurting his family in the very depth of their pain. And even though Marah had some understanding of why, she was still left feeling as though Caleb’s attempts to pretend the past didn’t exist were only causing more trouble, more pain, and more heartbreak for everyone.
Including himself.
Caleb fiddled with his wineglass as the servants drew away the last of the dessert plates. Although the food had been as fine as any meal he had eaten in this house, all of it had tasted like sawdust to him, and now it sat heavy in his belly. His emotions wouldn’t allow him to enjoy this night. When he looked around the table, he was keenly aware that he was a disappointment to everyone he saw.
There was his mother whom he had hurt tonight and since his return with his dismissal. It didn’t matter that he avoided her because he feared he might pose questions to her that could never be taken back and should be left unasked, she still shrank with anguish every time he rejected her.
There was Tessa, who glared daggers at him as often as she embraced him. She had no idea of what he knew or how it made him feel. All she could see or understand was that he was hurting people she loved, and her natural reaction was to fly at him and defend them with everything she had.
Victoria and Justin were more subtle, but he could tell they didn’t like that he was out every night, that he came to their home drunk, that he slept past noon and avoided their table whenever he could.
And then there was Marah. She had softened toward him, but there was no denying how much he had hurt her. He had taken her innocence, he had been dishonorable by abandoning her, and now the fact that he desired her even more than ever only underscored his dissolution. She kept telling him she wanted nothing from him but an acquaintance and he kept picturing her spread across his bed, naked and willing.
“Thank you again for allowing my intrusion,” Marah said with a broad smile for his mother. Her voice drew Caleb from his musings.
His mother returned Marah’s expression instantly and without hesitation. “We loved having you, my dear. But I’m sorry you won’t meet my husband. You probably know that he is quite ill, though he did try his best to join us. But it was too much for him.”
Caleb’s expression fell at the same moment as his mother’s. He had been in the room, telling the marquis more about Marah, when the old man had made the effort to rise and ready himself for a pretty guest. He hadn’t even made it past sitting straight up in bed.
He looked at Marah briefly. “He did very much wish to meet you,” he mused.
His gaze slipped to his mother and the two looked at each other for a long moment. She seemed to read his thoughts, for there was no surprise on her face when he said, “What if we bring Marah to him?”
The surprise he hadn’t seen in his mother was instantly recognizable in everyone else in the room. Justin, Victoria, and Tessa all drew back, almost at the same moment.
Tessa found her voice to respond first, “Are you entirely irresponsible, Caleb Talbot? Father is far too weak for visitors.”
Justin nodded slowly. “I tend to agree. And I can’t picture him being comfortable with an intrusion into his private chambers.”
Marah shook her head. “As much as I would love to meet the man who raised Justin and Caleb, I would never want to be responsible for causing him upset or even making his illness worse.”
Caleb’s mother turned toward her slowly. “You are a dear girl, but there is nothing in the world that could truly make him worse . . . or better now. And although I appreciate all the concern of everyone, I know your father. When he was denied the ability to meet with a guest, it underscored to him the finality of his condition.”
“He was always so proper when it came to guests,” Caleb said with a chuckle. “He always wanted to be the one to greet them and make them feel welcome in our home.”
His mother crossed the room, holding out a hand to Marah as she did so. “Come, Miss Farnsworth. We shall go up and I will go in to the marquis. If he is sleeping or tells me he isn’t up for guests, we’ll forget the entire plan. But if he expresses an interest in having this moment that will remind him of healthier days, you may come in.”
Marah swallowed and Caleb understood her discomfort. It wasn’t often that an unmarried lady . . . or a married one, for that matter, was asked to enter the bedchamber of a powerful man of Society. To converse with him while he was in his nightshirt. But he could also see how intrigued she was by the notion of meeting the marquis, this man she had heard so much about over the years.
He tilted his head. “If you are too uncomfortable, no one will judge you if you say no.”
“Of course,” his mother instantly said, lifting her outstretched hand to her chest. “We would never have you do something that brought you distress.”
Marah arched an incredulous brow toward Caleb, which he ignored as he continued, “It is unorthodox, I know, but I do think it will give him a brief moment of happiness, a glimpse at the life he once led.”
“You are daft,” Tessa insisted as she tossed her napkin down and pushed her chair back from the table with a screech. “I’ll have no part in this. It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Farnsworth, but I shall say good night.”
With that she stomped from the room, her footfalls echoing up the stairs until a chamber door slammed far in the distance. Marah cringed at the sound as she turned toward Justin and Victoria.
“Do you feel as strongly against this idea as your sister seems to?” she asked.
Justin shifted. “It isn’t standard or perhaps even proper, of course, and I still worry that so much excitement will cause my father grief . . . but I wasn’t here earlier when Mother and Caleb discussed a guest’s visit. If they say his reaction and desire to meet with you was so strong . . . it must be true. I defer to their judgment.”
Victoria nodded. “And your own comfort, my dear.”
Marah turned from them and faced Caleb and his mother again. She smiled first at the marchioness, but then her gaze fell on Caleb. “If you think I could help him, it doesn’t hurt to ask if he’d like to meet me.”
“I think we’ll wait for you here,” Justin said as he slid his chair closer and slipped an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “I wouldn’t want him to feel overwhelmed by guests.”
His mother smiled as the rest of them got to their feet. The marchioness grasped Marah’s hand and guided her to the hallway. Caleb followed, unable to hear them as they talked in low tones ahead of him. But he could watch them. He could see that her offer still worried Marah, but she did this regardless because it seemed to please his mother.
Because it pleased him.
But his thoughts left him as they all stopped outside his father’s door. His mother released Marah and entered the room, closing the door behind her. Caleb slipped into the place beside Marah. He looked at her from the corner of his eye. There was so much he wanted to tell her, wanted to advise her on how to interact with his father if she did have the chance to pass through the door, but she looked nervous enough at this strange situation. There was no need to make her more anxious as she waited.
So instead he reached out and briefly squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry,” he whispered.
She glanced at him swiftly, but when he made to remove his hand she clung to it a moment longer before she dropped it away and sucked in a breath as his mother rejoined them in the hallway.
“Well?” Caleb said, uncertain why he so wanted his father to meet Marah.
The marchioness nodded. “He is as stupefied as Miss Farnsworth here by the oddness of this situation, but he seems intrigued by the notion that he could greet his guests without leaving the comfort of his bed. He’s ready for you now, my dear. Won’t you follow me?”
She opened the door again as she said the last and motioned to Marah as she entered. Caleb followed her, almost colliding with her as she came to a sudden stop just within the chamber door. He had grown so accustomed to the darkness of his father’s chamber that he hardly noticed it anymore, but now he saw the room through Marah’s eyes and recalled his own feelings when he had first entered the chamber not so long ago.
He leaned in over her shoulder and whispered, “Brighter light bothers him. Your eyes will adjust momentarily.”
She nodded, but she was staring toward his mother as she went to the bed and said something to the figure who was propped up there, waiting. Then she turned back and motioned toward Marah.
“Miss Marah Farnsworth, may I present my husband, the Marquis of Stratfield.”
Marah hesitated, and for a brief moment Caleb wondered if she had become overwhelmed and would run. He certainly couldn’t blame her if she did the very thing he had done not so long ago. Between the oddness of this situation and the pressure put on her to make a sick man happy, it was much to ask of her.
But the moment passed, and then she stepped into the room and made her way to the bedside.
“My lord, how happy I am to have this chance to meet you,” she said.
Caleb marveled as she maneuvered so his father could see her well and then bobbed out a quick curtsy in deference to him. She didn’t behave as if it was odd to be here, she didn’t recoil at his state, she simply acted as if this was all perfectly normal.
His father smiled up at her. “Hello, my dear, I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you from my son that I’m happy to have this chance to meet you. Even under these odd circumstances.”
His mother motioned delicately and Marah seated herself in the chair beside the marquis’ bed and laughed. “I am certain Justin exaggerates about my character. You will likely find me very dull in comparison.”
“That is not the case so far,” the marquis said, his breathing labored and his words slow, but as Caleb moved closer, he could also see a light in his father’s eyes that hadn’t been there in all the times he had come here. “And it wasn’t Justin who praised you so high. It was Caleb.”
Marah hesitated, and in the dim light Caleb saw her swallow hard. She cast a quick glance up at him and then back to the marquis. “Caleb spoke of me? Well . . . I appreciate his compliments to you. He has often spoken of you as well, sir.”
Slowly Caleb backed away to stand at the door beside his mother as the two continued their conversation. Even from a distance, he could see his father was brighter as he spoke to Marah. And she occasionally laughed, never taking her eyes off her “host.”
“This has made him happy,” his mother said softly.
Caleb nodded. “He was always a social man. In the moments when his mind is unclouded and his pain is less, he must feel trapped by this bed and his illness.”
“He did love to mingle and talk and occasionally flirt in a harmless manner with a pretty girl,” his mother said with a light laugh. When Caleb spun to face her, she shrugged, but he could see her smile. “Well, Miss Farnsworth is a very pretty girl.”
“Indeed she is,” Caleb said, barely suppressing a sigh.
His mother opened the door quietly. “And a very kind one. Someone should go down to Victoria and Justin, but Miss Farnsworth will need an escort.”
Caleb looked at Marah and his father and then he nodded. “I would be happy to wait for the lady.”
His mother’s eyes went wide, but then they softened a touch. She looked toward the slender woman who was sitting with his father, smiling and talking to him in tones they couldn’t hear.
“It is not proper to leave her with you as chaperone.”
He arched a brow. “I don’t think much in this situation is ‘proper,’ madam. However, of the two of us, Miss Farnsworth does know me a little, and when she is finished with the marquis she might be more comfortable with a—a friend waiting for her.”
His mother hesitated a fraction while her gaze slipped to Marah once again. Finally she shrugged one shoulder. “Very well. I’ll return downstairs while you wait for your . . .” She looked at him evenly. “Friend.”
Then his mother was gone, the chamber door shut behind her, and Caleb was alone with the two people who muddled and confused him most. His father, who had raised him and yet not sired him. Who brought out all the love and all the anger that Caleb had ever felt as he watched him die.
And Marah. He wanted her, but couldn’t have her. She made him want to stay with her, and yet he was forced to run.
Before his tangled thoughts could grow even more indulgent and maudlin, Marah rose to her feet.
“I should leave you to your rest, my lord,” he heard her say. “I’m so pleased I was able to meet you.”
“As am I,” the marquis said as he extended his weak hand to her. She hesitated for a brief moment, but then she took it. “Good-bye.”
Caleb heard her suck in a breath at the finality of his father’s farewell. After a brief pause, she whispered, “I think I shall say good night, my lord. I much prefer good night to good-bye.”
His father smiled, but said nothing as she released his hand and made her way back across the room toward Caleb. As she reached him, Caleb was shocked to see that tears filled her eyes. He quickly led her to the hall and closed the door behind them to offer them privacy.
Leaning closer, he murmured, “I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have asked so much of you.”
She lifted her face toward his. “I’m not crying because I was forced to meet or spend time with your father, Caleb. I’m crying because when I said good night, he smiled at me with such an indulgent expression. He knew that he would never see me again. And I knew it, too.”
Caleb stared. In the few moments Marah had spent with his father, she had felt the same things he felt every time he opened that door to his father’s chamber. In her eyes he saw a mirror image of the grief, the loss, the sadness that made his own chest ache.
“You may be correct,” he said softly as he cupped her chin with one hand. “You may never have the opportunity to spend another moment with him, but I can tell you, Marah . . . tonight you made him happy. Meeting you brightened him and lifted him. That is the best gift you could ever give him.”
He hesitated as he caught her one solitary tear on his thumb and swiped it aside. “And me,” he finally added in a low whisper.
He leaned down, close enough that her breath stirred against his cheek. Close enough that he could smell her warm skin and feel her heartbeat double. He wanted to draw her to his chest and crush her in his embrace. To lock his lips with hers until he felt like they were one person.
But instead he moved his lips to her cheek and gently kissed the smooth flesh there. Marah shivered ever so slightly, before she turned her face. But unlike the first time he’d attempted to kiss her the day after their mutual returns to London, tonight she turned her mouth toward him, not away. His lips brushed hers, her arms came around his neck, and then her mouth parted ever so slightly beneath his.
Caleb brought his arms around her, cradling her body against his not roughly, as he had initially imagined, but gently. And his kiss was just as tender. He parted his own lips, but didn’t delve into her, he didn’t try to drown himself in her taste or her feel. Tonight he just kissed her and drew from it as much comfort as he hoped he gave in return.
For the first time, Marah didn’t pull back or turn away. Her fingers lifted to the base of his skull and she threaded her fingers through the thick hair there, massaging his scalp with her nails until he shivered with pleasure. She met each kiss with an eager one of her own, holding tight to him as her body began to shake.
Caleb didn’t know how long they had stood there, and he had no idea how much longer or further they might have gone, because from behind them on the stairs he heard someone cough and then Victoria’s voice called out, “Marah, Caleb?”
They broke apart swiftly and Marah turned away, first smoothing her shaking hands over her skirts and then touching her pink cheeks as Caleb said, “Yes, we were just about to come down.”
“Oh good,” Victoria said, still on the staircase. “I’ll go back and tell the others.”
Her footsteps faded as she walked away and Marah turned back, her eyes wide and bright. “Do you think she saw us?”
Caleb looked toward the stairway. “She was far enough down that she couldn’t have.”
Marah nodded, but from the nervous flit of her eyes toward the end of the hallway, Caleb could see the answer didn’t satisfy her. Truth be told, it didn’t fully satisfy him. There was no reason for Victoria to call for them from the stairs, to avoid coming up to intrude, unless she had seen them locked in an embrace and was doing her level best to avoid embarrassing them by pretending not to have seen.
