CHAPTERTEN
Bethhad returned home in an unsettled state, and gone straight to her room. Her mind had been consumed with what happened that morning. She was no clearer in her head about the matter now, several hours and many morning callers later. She was also worried for Jessica. The young girl was distressed, and Beth hoped that soon she would take steps to put herself out of harm’s way.
Leo now knew things about Beth no one else did, and that made her uncomfortable, but not because she feared he would expose her; he wouldn’t, she knew that much. Leo was a good man, he had shown that by looking after Eric, and there had been other signs over the last few years that she’d pretended to ignore. She was worried because he’d seen a side to her she’d never showed anyone else. A side that exposed her weakness, and Beth had striven hard in her life to never be weak.
He’d also kissed her, and she would be lying to herself if she did not admit the first touch of his lips on hers had been something she had never expected. She’d always believed after what happened in her fifteenth year that she would be repelled if a man kissed her... not so in Leo’s case. The gentleness of his touch had taken her breath away; that had only changed when his grip on her tightened. Fear had chased everything but the hurtful memories away.
“I am pleased you have finally decided on a husband, Elizabeth, and very happy with your choice.”
“Thank you, Aunt,” Beth said, looking at her elderly relative. They were still seated in the parlor after a continuous flow of visitors. Both were exhausted.
“I have always liked that young man.”
Shorter than Beth by several inches, Aunt Jane was sweet natured, and had been there for her when she’d most needed it. Aunt Jane had moved in with Beth two days after life as she had always known it had been torn out from under her. Broken and bruised, of both body and spirit, Beth had latched on to the gentle, softly-spoken woman, and never let go.
“Yes, he is a wonderful man,” Beth lied. In fact, she wasn’t sure how she felt about Leo anymore. Theirs had always been a relationship based on annoyance, but now that had changed in the space of a day.
“You shall have fine children,” Aunt Jane said, smiling. “I shall finally hold one of your babes, dear Beth.”
When she’d told her elderly relative the news, the woman had been overjoyed, increasing Beth’s guilt over the deception tenfold; this simply added to that. Beth wanted neither a child, nor to partake in the getting of one... ever!
“So many callers today, we are quite the rage in London now.”
“Yes, let us hope someone else does something to draw the interest away from me.” Beth sighed.
Most of her callers had not been well-wishers; in fact all they’d wanted to know was how her betrothal had come about, as until it was announced society had believed Lord Vereton and Miss Whitlow anything but friends.
“But my dear Miss Whitlow, to have chosen you at your age, one wonders why?” Mrs. Radler had stated loudly. Having two young, as yet unwed daughters, she was not pleased that one of London’s most eligible bachelors was supposedly off the market.
Lying, Beth realized, was fatiguing, and after today, she was now quite convinced it was better to have this fake betrothal done with. She wanted no more kisses or touches. No more confusion and fear.
“I shall be in my room, dear.”
“Of course, Aunt.” Beth climbed to her feet and kissed a soft, thin cheek. She then walked her aunt from the room, and handed her into the care of her longtime maid.
Theirs was not a large townhouse. After the death of Beth’s father, and at Nick’s insistence, as he was the rightful heir to her father’s money and property, they had sold the larger one, and purchased this. Entering her rooms, she looked around, but did not feel the usual peace the room usually gave her.
It was decorated in peach and cream. She’d picked everything herself, right down to the rugs on the floor. This was her haven, the place where Beth could be herself. Today all she felt was unsettled.
Leo had kissed her, and her first reaction had been to lean into his large, solid body and take more. Then she’d remembered.
“Lord, I should not have allowed that to happen.” Beth moved through her rooms, touching things, but not seeing them as she remembered the feel of his mouth on hers. And then he’d pulled her closer, the pressure had increased, and she’d retreated in shock.
A man had hurt her unbearably when she was younger. Beth had never forgotten, nor wanted to. Men were not to be trusted; they let their passions rule them, and thought of woman as chattel. There were, she had come to understand, a few men who were not like this, her cousin for one, but she would never take the chance of another man doing what had been done to her... never again.
Pleased to be interrupted from her troubled thoughts by the knock on her door, she hurried to open it and took the note her butler handed her. Taking a seat, she read it.
I know your secrets, Miss Whitlow. Your father’s blood is on your hands. There is only one word for a woman such as you. WHORE!
Beth stared at the words, hardly daring to believe what they said. Fear slithered down her spine as she read on.
Instructions will follow about where and when you will make payment, so I am not forced to tell others your dark secret.
“Dear Lord!”
Only four people knew what happened that day. Her aunt would never tell. One of them was dead, the other she’d believed was in France. Had he returned?
She sat there in numb silence as memories of the darkest day of her life swamped her. What should she do?
Beth rose and began to pace her room.
Were it just her, then yes she could stand the shame and leave society.But it is not just me, Beth thought.
Pressing a hand to her eyes, she tried to push aside the painful memories of what that man had done to her—a man her father had thought a friend, and allowed into their house—but it was no good, they would not be dispelled. She was back there again, alone and frightened, the day her innocence was ruthlessly ripped away. The same day her father was killed by “a poacher.” No one was ever found responsible. Beth knew differently, however. She knew who had killed him, but shock had held her silent.
