To Romance a Charming Rogue

“It is true-there is no relationship between us, I swear it. I have not even seen Lord Wrexham in two years, not until today. You see, I came to plead for his help. My sister was recently struck ill with consumption, and her best chance for survival is for her to attend his hospital for consumptives in Italy. I cannot afford the enormous expense to send her there, however. And Mr. Geary didn't wish his lordship to be reminded of our… past alliance and so refused to ask him for me. So I had no choice but to come here and beg Damon… Lord Wrexham to help me.”

Eleanor stared at the courtesan, taken aback by her wholly unexpected revelation.

“Damon has agreed to send my sister there,” the beauty said quietly. “You cannot know how grateful I am for the chance to cure her. She is my only flesh and blood, the sole family I have left, and I could not just allow her to die without doing everything in my power to save her.”

“I think I can imagine,” Eleanor murmured after a long hesitation.

“Please, my lady,” Lydia added. “I beg your understanding. I would never have come here if there had been any choice. Lord Wrexham is all that is kind and generous, and I had nowhere else to turn.”

She couldn't fault Damon for his compassion, Eleanor thought distractedly. Indeed, she had to praise him. But even so, she couldn't forgive him for concealing the truth from her and causing her such anguish.

“If he had such a simple explanation, Miss New -ling, why did he meet with you in this clandestine fashion and allow me to think he was carrying on an affair?”

“He feared you might misconstrue my presence and wished to spare you any pain. Please believe me, my lady, you needn't worry. I would never purposely cause any harm to your union. There is nothing between us now. Nor was there any affair two years ago when you ended your betrothal to him.”

“No affair?” Eleanor repeated sharply.

“No, none. I know Damon… Lord Wrexham wanted you to think so, but it was completely over between us by then. He broke off our liaison practically the first moment he met you.”

Eleanor stiffened at that obvious falsehood. The Cyprian was trying to defend Damon, but it was no use. “I have little patience for lies, Miss Newling. I saw you together in the park that day, and when I confronted Damon, he never denied that he still had you in keeping.”

“Yes, but it was all a ruse to make you break off your betrothal.”

Eleanor continued to stare.

“It is the God's honest truth, my lady,” Lydia insisted. “I swear on my life.”

“You are saying…” Eleanor tried to swallow past the dryness in her throat. “You mean that he fabricated the entire contretemps so he would not have to marry me?”

“Yes, my lady. He got cold feet about the wedding, you might say.” Lydia suddenly grimaced. “I suspect he would not thank me for telling you, though. I promised him then I would say nary a word to anyone.”

Eleanor took another step into the room. “You have already begun, Miss Newling. And it will be no more incriminating to continue. Pray tell me everything you know about what happened two years ago. I am waiting with bated breath.”

* * *

As Eleanor entered her carriage to return to Rose-mont half an hour later, her heart felt the battering of so many conflicting emotions: amazement, relief, contrition, sympathy, gladness, vexation, wonder, anger.

She was overwhelmingly relieved that she'd been wrong about Damon. He had not betrayed her with his beautiful former mistress as she'd feared.

She regretted having thought the worst of him just now and was willing to admit that she should have trusted him more.

Yet he was chiefly to blame for her lack of trust, Eleanor thought defiantly. Two years ago Damon had deliberately goaded her into ending their engagement.

Even though she understood why, that galled her the most. All that wasted time when they could have been together.

She had always known that he was her ideal mate, even if, infuriatingly, he couldn't see it. For a man as clever and quick-witted as Damon was, he could be awfully thick-headed!

She was touched that he could be so caring, though. She had actually liked Lydia and found herself glad that Damon had agreed to help her sister.

Eleanor was also heartened a small measure. The empty, hopeless feeling inside her had diminished. And yet she couldn't be easy. Simply because Damon hadn't broken his vow of fidelity didn't mean he could let himself love her.

When the conversation had turned to his late brother, the courtesan had confessed that in past years she had consoled Damon during his yearly ritual mourning of his twin's loss.

Eleanor was glad that he'd had someone to comfort him. Yet enough was enough. She had to make Damon see that his fears, while understandable, threatened his entire future, and her own as well.

The moment she reached Rosemont, she would face him and lay all her cards on the table. She would tell Damon of her love and demand that he at least acknowledge his fears. If he could lance the festering wound inside him, perhaps he could finally begin to heal.

Only then, Eleanor knew, could Damon give her what she wanted most in all the world: his heart.

She had no immediate chance to be alone with her husband, however, for she arrived home to an unexpected uproar.

Strangely, the stableyard was bustling with activity, Eleanor saw upon alighting from her carriage, with servants rushing to and fro, carrying trunks and baggage to various equipages. It seemed that the prince's entourage was preparing to depart.

Puzzled, she entered the house and was immediately greeted by the Rosemont majordomo, who was overseeing the activity.

“What is happening, Mollet?” Eleanor inquired as she handed over her bonnet and gloves to him.

“I do not have all the particulars, my lady, but Lady Beldon has ordered that Signor Vecchi take his leave.”

Her aunt had sent the diplomat packing? Eleanor wondered.

“Her ladyship has been asking for you,” Mollet added, “if you will be so kind as to go to her.”

“Where may I find her?”

“In her rooms. She has taken to her bed with orders not to be disturbed by anyone but you.”

Eleanor frowned in concern. “Is she ill?”

“I am not certain, my lady.”

Turning, Eleanor made her way down the corridor only to encounter Prince Lazzara, who was dressed for traveling.

“You are leaving, your highness?” she asked in surprise.

Halting before her, the prince bowed stiffly. “I must, Donna Eleanora. The shame to my family honor will not permit me to trespass on your aunt's hospitality a moment longer.”

“I fear I don't understand,” she murmured.

“My cousin was the perpetrator of the mishaps all along.”

Eleanor's eyebrows snapped together. “Signor Vec-chi was behind your mishaps?”

“Yes, to my immense regret and mortification.”

“How did you find out?”

“Lord Wrexham discovered the evidence and presented it to my cousin, who was compelled to admit his treachery.”

Lazzara briefly explained about Damon finding the pouch of arrows and the tin containing the powdered medication that had been used to drug him.

“I beg you to accept my deepest apologies, Donna Eleanora, for having endangered you, although I know what my cousin did was unforgivable. I mean to return with him to my country at once, so I will importune you no longer.”