Thirty

An Unconscionable Ultimatum

It was late afternoon when Nancy tapped tentatively on her mistress’s bedchamber door.

“What is it, Nan?” The lady spoke in a hoarse whisper, her throat completely raw from a night spent in anguish, frustration, and rage. “I expressly said that I wished not to be disturbed.”

“But my lady, the footman was quite insistent that his lordship speak with you.”

“Who would speak with me, Nan?” she snapped at the hapless maid. “I gave strict instructions that I am not at home… to anyone.”

“May I enter, my lady?” Nan asked through the door.

“Well? What is it?” Susannah flung the door open to the startled maid, who found her normally impeccable mistress dressed in her wrapper with her hair a tangled mess and her lids puffy from spent tears.

Her heart wrung in compassion. “Oh, my lady, what has brought you to such a pass?”

“I don’t wish to discuss it, Nan,” she said tersely. “Now pray tell me what is this urgent business, and then leave me in peace.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she complied meekly. “Two liveried footmen come to the door on behalf of a great lord who awaits outside in his carriage.”

The image of Jack Messingham came ominously to mind. Could he not at least have given her a day before importuning her for payment? Desperate to stall, she replied, “I am unfit to receive at the moment. Pray convey to the Marquess of Weston that he must conduct himself with greater circumspection and pay his calls at a more appropriate hour.”

“Lord Weston?” the maid repeated blankly. “You are mistaken, madam. ’Tis not the name the footman gave.” The maid produced a gold-embossed calling card. “’Tis the Earl of Hastings what insistents on speaking with you.”

“The Earl of Hastings? What could Lord Hastings want with me?” She immediately wondered if something had happened to Philip.

“I haven’t a notion, my lady. The footman, a lovely chap in the finest velvet, was mum about it too, though I did me best to find out.” Nan smiled coyly. “For you, ma’am,” she amended hastily.

“Of course, Nan,” the lady replied with a knowing look. “Then if he won’t be turned away, you must help me to dress.”

Lady Messingham donned her most demure gray half-mourning gown and strategically confined her tangled locks under a simple lace cap. To disguise her blotched and wretched complexion, she made use of a generous amount of powder, forgoing any rouge.

When she had calmed her nerves enough to proceed, she descended the steps of her house, followed by her lady’s maid.

“If you will but accompany me, my lady.” The footman led the way to the unmarked carriage standing a short distance from her house. “His lordship is a man of utmost discretion,” the servant explained. “He would not wish to draw undue attention.”

“By calling at my door like a gentleman? How curious,” the lady said archly, determined not to show her unease. When he opened the door to the carriage, Susannah gestured to her maid to follow, but the footman interposed himself.

“No, my lady. His lordship would speak privily.”

She regarded him with a slight frown, but complied when the servant moved to hand her up. When the door closed, she turned to face a pair of ice blue eyes.

***

“My Lord Hastings, I must say I am surprised by the unconventionality of this meeting.”

“Madam.” He inclined his head stiffly. “The circumstances required it be so.”

“Indeed?”

“You are Sir Nigel Messingham’s bride, are you not? I was acquainted with your husband.”

“I was. My husband is deceased nearly six months.”

He ignored the correction. “I think Sir Nigel a vain and addled man to have taken such as you to wife.” Her eyes grew wide in affront but he stilled her with a chilling look. “What had you to bring to the marriage?” he asked. “No dowry. No property, and most important, not even the ability to breed an heir.”

“I take exception to this conversation, my lord.” She moved toward the door, but gasped when he struck out to block her with his silver-handled cane.

“I am not finished,” he said.

“Then finish what you have to say and let me go.”

“We have some business to settle between us.”

“What business? What do you want with me?”

“The nature of this interview is your relationship with my youngest son.”

“He is a grown man. What concern is it of yours whether or not I am involved with Philip?”

“I am greatly concerned that a woman of loose moral fiber has served only to lead him further astray.”

“You have gone beyond the pale. I won’t suffer your insults a moment longer.”

Still blocked by the cane, she kicked at the door, but Lord Hastings had already thumped on the roof to signal the driver. The vehicle jolted forward at a brisk pace.

“Shall it be a turn in the park, then?”

She gaped at his audacity. “This is no less than abduction!”

“It is indeed.” He smiled.

“You will stop this carriage at once!” Her voice was calm and commanding but her heart raced with apprehension.

“I’ll do no such thing, and you’ll keep your mouth shut until I’m finished with you.”

She stared at him aghast.

“Right, then, where were we? Ah yes, your loose morality. It is no secret how you attempted to entrap Sir Nigel’s heir, and having failed, persuaded the dotard to sacrifice himself and his entire fortune to you instead. And what now to show for it? The money is gone, the properties mortgaged, and not even an heir of his own to carry his name. All in all, you are a very bad bargain, my Lady Messingham.”

“H-how do you know all this? Nigel would never have spoken of it. He was an honorable man who pledged his word, and I dedicated ten years of my life to return his kindness.”

“I gave you credit for more intelligence. How sad to be mistaken. Shall I explain, since you haven’t the wherewithal to figure it out? Who else was privy to this dirty little secret?”

“Jack,” she whispered and began to tremble almost convulsively.

“Ah,” Lord Hastings exclaimed. “I see you are not so slow-witted after all.”

“Why? Why do you wish to inflict torment upon me? What have I done to deserve your cruelty?”

“Oh my dear, nothing. Yet.” He waited patiently while his meaning penetrated.

“What can you possibly fear from me?” she asked, bewildered.

“It is for you to fear, my lady. I simply manage that which would endeavor to overset me.”

She regarded him with a horrified stare.

“As I said, Philip appears to have fixed himself on you and I have no intention of allowing your designs to interfere with my plans.”

“Designs?”

“Don’t play coy, Lady Messingham. I know you for a shameless jade. Do you deny seducing my son so he would pay your gaming debts?”

“It wasn’t like that!”

“Why else would he have come begging a loan of one thousand pounds, if not to pay off Weston?”

“I don’t believe it! He would never have groveled as you say.”

“You see what you have reduced him to already? What kind of woman would wish a man to debase himself by rebelling against his own principles? Sadly, I had to deny the request. So now here you are, once more without the means to pay your debts and without even the funds to support yourself. Even at this moment a summons is being issued by the Westminster Magistrate for your arrest. What do you know of debtors’ prison, my lady?”

“My God! You are a minion of the devil!”

“No, my dear, simply an earl.” The cruel curve of his lips sent a shudder down her spine. “But one who will see his house in order before he leaves this earth. That includes the younger son as well as the heir.”

“But what have I to do with any of this?”

“You are a distraction that must be eliminated to bring Philip to heel. I have use for Philip once his wayward nonsense comes to its inevitable conclusion. He will assume his place with his peers and in good time will be pledged to some virtuous young woman of unexceptionable breeding and superior fortune. Be his mistress then, if you must, but be damned if you think to infiltrate this family.”

“Why do you believe I wish to marry Philip?”

“You deny it?”

“Of course I deny it!” Her hands plucked nervously at her skirts. She looked down, willing them to be still, realizing in the same moment that it came to the earl’s notice—she still wore Philip’s ring.

“Then where did you get that? You lying baggage!” Without warning, the back of his hand struck her cleanly across the face. “You wear his filthy symbol of taint! The deed is already done, is it? Well, what is done can be just as easily undone. At least we know no bastard offspring can result from this inglorious union.”

“You are mistaken,” she cried out. “Philip gave me the ring only as a pledge. There is no marriage. Nor will there be.”

“So you say? Then he does have such intentions, regardless of your prior protest. You, however, will refuse him.”

“Why should I refuse?” she taunted, if only to serve him back his own sauce.

“Why? I’ll give you a thousand reasons as inducement, but if you cross me you may not live to regret it.” His meaning was clear and the menace in Lord Hastings’s eyes made her tremble in earnest.

She had already refused Philip, knowing he wasn’t ready for such a step and that only crisis had prompted the proposal. Although he’d made an honorable offer, he did not reciprocate her feelings. Thus, she’d declined. Her heart couldn’t bear to do otherwise.

Now, out of the blue, Lord Hastings threatened her. He’d described the desperation of her circumstances without exaggeration, but then unexpectedly offered her a way out—if she only played her cards right this one and final time. It was a gamble she determined to take.

She swallowed hard, marshaling her will to meet the earl’s eye, answering in a voice that was dispassionate and controlled. “One thousand pounds is scarcely sufficient to meet my needs. Make it five thousand, my lord.”

“Rapacious whore!” he thundered. “Two thousand.”

She stood her ground stolidly under his piercing stare and countered. “Three.”

“Three it is! And be damned to hell!”