“No, but I should have stood up to him more. I was young, however, and desperate for friends, particularly ones of high rank like Lord Dennis. And perhaps I should add . . . he was not monolithically evil. He saved my life more than once and could be caring. I was not entirely derelict in my affection for him. Perhaps it was more that the charisma of his person and my own need for camaraderie conspired to quiet my conscience when they should not have.”
“But ye did come after him that night, long ago. When ye noticed he had entered my room by mistake.”
“Yes, I did that often. It’s likely why I don’t remember you. It happened enough that all the women blurred together. I’m glad I was attentive that night.”
“As am I, husband.” She sipped her wine.
He smiled at that, tight and grim. “I was not, however, so fortunate with Susan. Once we reached India, I gave Dennis my ultimatum—marry Susan or leave her be. There was no in-between. Dennis chose marriage, and Susan accepted. True to his nature, Dennis attempted to shirk his commitment by postponing their nuptials for six months. No doubt he was simply buying time, hoping to find a way out of the snare.
“Unfortunately, I was too distracted by Honoria at the time to give Dennis my full attention. My betrothed had arrived from the West Indies and then, just as quickly, received word that her brother had died in a tragic accident. Abruptly, I had my hands full, consoling her in her grief and navigating the logistics of her late brother’s estate.
“While I was thus otherwise occupied, Dennis seduced my sister, eventually getting Susan with child. I know he intended to break their betrothal. Though a gentleman’s daughter, Susan was well beneath him socially. Dennis feared his father would cut him off if His Grace learned of the disadvantageous marriage. Only my stern words, sterner threats, and our long-standing friendship ensured Dennis and Susan made it to the altar. But Dennis insisted on a secret marriage, telling no one. In my naivete, I conceded to him on the point of secrecy, believing it impossible that the marriage could be hidden forever.
“This naturally caused problems as Susan’s pregnancy progressed. But she stayed on the small estate Dennis had let on the outskirts of Madras and bore the situation with her usual optimistic cheer. She loved Dennis and was happy to have his child. And despite our own mother’s ghastly tale, Susan was ecstatic to become a mother herself. She was convinced all would be well.
“Unbeknownst to me at the time, Dennis had begun to flirt and exchange letters with Honoria. He regretted his marriage to Susan and the paltriness of her dowry compared to the largess Honoria now offered. And so, unsatisfied with ruining my only sister, Dennis began a torrid love affair with my betrothed, as well.”
Leah pressed trembling fingers to her mouth.
Honoria had betrayed him like that? And Dennis?
“Oh, Fox. How could they do that tae ye? After everything?” Leah whispered, a sickening sensation flooding her chest.
No wonder he found trust nigh unto impossible.
She pulled her knees to her chest, curling her body into her chair, her dinner long forgotten.
“I was more the fool,” Fox snorted. “In hindsight, their affair was so blatantly obvious. Of course Dennis would seduce Honoria. Or perhaps, she seduced him. She was a willing party in her ruination, do not mistake it.”
“How did ye find out?” Leah fisted her hands in her lap, ready to do battle for him.
Fox shook his head, laughing bitterly. “I didn’t. Not for nearly a year.”
“How is that possible?”
“Oh, Dennis ensured it. He was rightly concerned about my reaction if and when I discovered his betrayal. In my rage, I would have likely put a bullet through his black heart. And so, he called in favors, transferring me to another regiment and ensuring I was sent to forefront of the conflict with the Coorg. Dennis had hoped it would be a death sentence.”
“Lord Dennis was the one who sent ye to your death? To hide his sins with your betrothed? Like King David with Uriah, Bathsheba’s husband?” Leah’s hands clenched tighter. “But he was your friend!”
“Aye, hewasmy friend. My best friend. We had been friends for nigh upon fifteen years by that point. But as sometimes happens with old friends, we had simply grown in different directions. The boldness and arrogance that seemed so dashing to me when I was younger had lost its appeal. Dennis’s lack of a moral compass became more alarming and distasteful with each year. Idiot that I was . . . I simply assumed he would never turn on me.”
“He sent ye tae die.”
Fox nodded, expression sanguine. “He sent me to die.”
Leah’s jaw tightened, matching her fists. She wished Lord Dennis were here so she could relish kicking the blackguard once more.
“By all accounts, I should have died.” Fox pointed at the mottled purple scar along his neck. “Everyone at the time, myself included, was surprised when I lived. I was badly wounded, bed-ridden, and near death for months. Even in that state, I began to hear snippets of what had occurred back in Madras. That Susan had delivered her babe and was unwell. That Dennis was escorting Honoria in plain sight, when I knew he was married to my sister. I read the reports I received over and over until the letters all but fell apart. Finally, Honoria wrote me, breaking off our betrothal.
“I was desperate to regain my health, to return to Madras, to right the wrongs that had been done. Ironically, had Dennis actually cared for my sister and her new babe—had I thought them to be in capable hands—I might not have fought so hard to live.
“But anger and worry stiffened my will to survive, and I clawed my way back to health. For all the good it did. Ten months. It took me ten months of healing in a dusty field hospital before I had the strength to return to Madras. And Dennis used every one of those months to his advantage. He had seized on Susan’s mental decline and brought a Writ of Annulment on the basis of insanity before the Archbishop of Madras. He claimed that I had kept the truth of Susan’s state from him before their marriage, and that the marriage should be struck down.”
“Vile man! Why an annulment . . . that would render Madelineillegitimate. How could any father be so cruel?”
“It was just one of many barbarous acts. But the power of Dennis’s family name saw the marriage annulled. The day the Archbishop of Madras granted the annulment, Dennis and Honoria had their banns read, married three weeks later, and set sail for London. All while I was still recuperating from my wounds in an army hospital, hundreds of miles away. Susan’s fate, well, you already know.” He sipped his water. “As soon as I learned of the annulment, I began the process of appealing the case to the Court of Arches. My sister was not insane at the time of her marriage; Dennis was not deceived. And after Susan’s death, there was no reason to let the annulment stand. It simply saddled an innocent child with the brand of illegitimacy.
“About this same time, my uncle died, leaving me his fortune unexpectedly. I took Madeline and returned to London, intent on seeing justice meted out.
