‘Then why did you do it, kiss me like you wanted to?’
‘Because I pity you.’
‘Pity me? You pity me?’ he cried.
‘Yes, for I think you a wretched creature. I have given you an answer, and you have fulfilled your duty to William. Do not come here again, please.’
His chest heaved up and down. ‘Very well. Then I will leave you to your fate, Miss Howden. Please forgive the violence of my feelings just now. I can only be ashamed to have displayed them to one so indifferent and changeable.’
Rawden could not look at Grace Howden any longer. A whiplash of humiliation swept through him as he stared incredulously at her delicate and beautiful brown eyes, and he saw pity and contempt sitting there, clear as day. Before he said something he regretted, he whirled and rushed from the room.
Out in the street, he leant on a tree. He felt sick. He had failed William. He had once again harried a helpless woman for no good reason other than his pride and lust. He was the monster she thought him to be. For an age, Rawden stood there, contemplating his shortcomings. He heard a door slam, and the hapless servant who had received him came running out, sent on an errand, no doubt.
Rawden followed him along the street until he reached the junction of an alley, where he pounced and dragged the man into the shadows. He pinned him against the wall with a forearm to the fellow’s throat.
‘What do you want? I have no money,’ stammered the unfortunate youth.
‘Not yet, but you will have if you tell me all you know about Miss Howden.’
‘No. I heard you shouting at her. Don’t you hurt her. She is kind to me.’
Rawden relaxed his grip. ‘I have the opposite intention. I mean to protect the young lady.’ He fished a coin out of his pocket, and the young man’s eyes lit up. ‘Here is some money to loosen your tongue. Speak, and quickly.’
Chapter Eighteen
Rawden sat in a fog of cigar smoke and swirled a whisky around in his glass. It gave off a heady aroma, and its burn on his throat calmed him. The gruff-voiced conversation of his gentleman’s club washed over him, and he was acutely aware that Hardy was staring in his direction. How he longed to escape his friend’s scrutiny, for Hardy could smell a rat a mile away. Rawden tried to divert him.
‘I suppose your family is well and pleased to see you home safely, welcoming you with open arms.’
‘They would welcome you too if you would only seek company.’
‘I have much to settle with my father’s estate, Hardy.’
‘I hate to leave you alone, for you will only end up getting into trouble. My sister insists on us all going to Brighton for the end of the summer season – a family tradition which deserves to die, in my opinion. Honestly, sea bathing, of all things. It is more tortuous than war.’
‘And how is Prudence?’
‘As troublesome as ever.’
‘And her friend, the lovely Miss….’
‘Enough, Rawden. I spoke of her when I was extremely drunk, and we agreed to forget I ever mentioned it. And on the subject of Prudence, my parents have despaired of ever finding my sister a match. Now that you are an earl and have come into a vast fortune, you might meet their high expectations. I don’t suppose you would take her off my hands for the sake of friendship?’
Rawden laughed. ‘Not a chance. And besides, I might be embracing matrimony elsewhere.’
‘What lady would ever be foolish enough to marry a snarling creature like you?’ laughed Hardy.
‘Miss Grace Howden.’
‘Will’s betrothed? The one you said duped him into making an offer.’ His face fell. ‘My friend, you cannot be in earnest. Your obligation to his final request does not extend that far. He asked only that you protect her.’
‘You haven’t seen her. She is pretty, quite charmingly so, and sad - a beautiful bird with a broken wing.’
‘God save us. All those cannon blasts have stewed your brain, Rawden. Since when did you rush to the aid of damsels in distress? What is this, some search for redemption? You think that by rescuing Miss Howden, you can assuage your guilt over Will. His death was not your fault, Rawden. How many times must I say it? There is nothing to reproach yourself about.’
When Rawden did not answer, Hardy pressed him. ‘What makes you think she will want you if she was in love with William?’
‘Grace Howden was not in love with him. She was desperate to be married, and he was a young fool, too agreeable for his own good.’
