The Lord Who Sneered and Other Tales Read online

  “But how very admirable!”

  “Not as admirable as was his saving mine.” He must have seen her confusion and gave her a wry smile in concession. “He is next in line to the title,” he said with a shrug. “Our national history is rife with those who have thought nothing of doing violence in exchange for consequence in the kingdom. Yet, he threw himself into the thick of the matter rather than leave me to die.”

  Lady Sophie felt as if much had been left out of the tale. “You saved his life, he saved yours then gave you the ring, and now you wear it to remember that you were wounded on his behalf?” She turned to face him fully, and he did the same, though he kept his head down in what appeared to be discomfiture.

  “Not exactly. You see, my cousin had got himself into trouble. It involved a woman; there is nothing in that to surprise anyone. He was challenged to a duel, and he asked that I serve as his second. The irate husband who challenged Evelyn—that is my cousin,” he explained as he looked up to gage her understanding, “—was ferociously angry. I have never seen anything quite like it. They dueled with swords, my cousin’s choice as he felt he should have the advantage with his large frame and height. Nevertheless, righteous anger lent his challenger strength, and a disinclination to abide by the rules. I knew Evelyn had only moments before he was cut to ribbons, so I interceded.”

  “How very brave!” Lady Sophie gasped.

  “Not especially. It never occurred to me that my cousin’s challenger should have no care for his actions and would have as gladly split me in two as Evelyn. My cousin was quick to get the measure of the man, however, and fended off his assault until the other second was able to gain control of the challenger. However, Evelyn was not in time to prevent this,” he said with a gesture indicating the scar.

  “Oh, how dreadful!” she exclaimed in suitable awe. “But how could this possibly have led to the evil of which you spoke?”

  “It did not, not at first. In fact, the incident induced in me a heretofore unknown fondness for Evelyn. He had saved my life, and I had saved his. There are few bonds stronger that may be forged between two men. After some time passed, however, I realized he was better at falling into scrapes than anyone I had ever known. This took some of the bloom off of the relationship as I was continually required to compensate for his foolishness.”

  “But, why should you? Certainly one or two incidents should have been enough to induce a decided intolerance for the connection.”

  “He had saved my life when he might have let me die,” the Marquis said, spreading his hands wide. “He could have had my title, my home, my fortune. I believed him to be my friend.”

  “Yes,” she admitted, “I can perceive how you might have felt beholden to him. I believe I might correctly deduce the next pertinent point of the story.”

  He raised a brow, but overall appeared to be more amused than skeptical.

  “But of course it was your cousin who abducted the young woman you spoke of earlier; how could it be otherwise?” she asked, thoroughly convinced the Marquis of Trevelin to be the most noble of men.

  He dropped his head and turned the ring round and round on his finger then, quite suddenly, took Lady Sophie’s hands in his and looked up to gaze into her eyes. “How could a young girl just out of the schoolroom perceive truths so many others with far more experience have refused to examine for even a single moment?” He searched her face, his pale blue eyes warm and lively and his lips curved upwards in so pleasing a manner that Lady Sophie felt her heart turn over.

  “You honor me, my lord, but how did Society, including my own father, fall under the spell of such misapprehension?”

  The Marquis sighed as he gently freed her hands from his grasp. “The only way to save the young lady in question was to abduct her myself. She was perfectly safe with me!” he hastened to add with a sharp look for her reaction and did not continue until he was satisfied her good opinion of him was yet intact. “I had all the details of his intentions as I had been privy to so many times before and with which I did nothing. I determined that, this time, I would prevent him from his folly. Demanding that he refrain from his scurrilous ways was pointless; I was convinced he should only laugh at me. So, I arranged for a letter to be delivered to the young lady stating that the hour of the elopement, as she believed it to be, was to be changed to an hour earlier. I had his ring and so was able to make a credible fabrication of his correspondence. Then, all I need do was carry her off before Evelyn arrived on the scene.”

  Lady Sophie felt the excitement rise in her veins. “How frightened she must have been when she beheld you in the carriage, instead!”

  “She was, indeed. It afforded me a splendid opportunity to lecture her on the evils of running off with men, most particularly men such as my cousin, and most effectively, I might add. Once I felt enough time had passed and Evelyn must have given up, I returned her home and released her into the care of her maid.”

  Lady Sophie was furious. “It must have been she who caused the scandal about you!”

  He leaned his elbow along the parapet and relaxed into the stone wall. “How I should have basked in the glow of your anger at the time. But, no, it was not the young lady who spread the news abroad. In point of fact, no one knew of it for some years, save my cousin who effected a very convincing outrage that I had so thwarted his intentions.”

  “Do you mean to say he was not angry, after all?”

  “Yes, but the explanation to that query comes later.” He stroked his scar with a long finger before proceeding. “I did believe his anger to be quite genuine at the time and was able to apply the appropriate balm to his outraged sensibilities via a pact: I was to grant him a boon at some point in the future.”

  “I do perceive how unwise it might have been to make such a promise to one so unscrupulous.” Her empathetic nature too strong to be overcome, she once again, laid her hand on his sleeve.

  What could be so offensive about such an action, she couldn’t say, but he wasted no time in taking her hand from his arm and placing it, very gently, on the parapet after he had first pressed it between both of his. “It was certainly unwise and easily the most imprudent decision of my life. The fruit of my foolishness did not ripen for a number of years, however, when I entered into a betrothal with a lovely young woman, one with whom I was quite madly in love, or so I believed.”

  Lady Sophie was unable to follow his words carefully, so shaken was she by the sensation of her hand having been held so gently between his own. However, she was brought to full attention when he mentioned the word ‘love’ in the same sentence as ‘betrothed’, and hoped they should prove the dawning of a thrilling revelation. “I should presume a belief is the same as the reality, is it not, my lord?” she asked with bated breath.

  “No, as it turns out, it is not. However, that was not the tragedy of this particular portion of the story. It was that the young lady believed she loved me with all her heart. Pray, do not think me arrogant, Lady Sophie,” he said, throwing up a hand. “I was compelled to cry off, and I do believe it should have been easier to bear had she not fancied herself in love.”

  “But why?” Lady Sophie cried, aghast. Here was the story she had hoped for, one full of lost love, betrayal and tragedy, yet it was no comfort to her now. “I can’t believe such a thing of you!” Her own folly at whole-heartedly believing a man she had only just met, one known as the worst sort of rake, was a matter that did not bear examination.

  He looked down his nose at her, and she was forcibly reminded of the sneer the scar induced. “You should prefer I defiled an innocent young lady than jilted one at the altar?”

  “No, of course not! It’s only that, when you spoke of the abduction, I did not know you yet.”

  He seemed confounded at her confession and studied her visage so unwaveringly she felt she would flinch before he finally spoke. “And you profess to know me, now?”

  She pressed her hands together and drew a deep breath. “I believe so but cannot say
for certain until I have heard the remainder of your story.”

  At her words, he turned to the trees, placed his elbow on the parapet and his chin in his hand. “I am sorry to say that my character is only further assassinated from this point on. I think I shall leave the rest of the tale for another time, perhaps when I am old and gray and beyond caring for the warm opinion of angelic young ladies.”

  Lady Sophie knew she was to blame for his reluctance and cast about for a means to encourage his further revelation. However, his implications as to her nature were so welcome, she found she could think of little else. That he chose to portray her as good rather than beautiful, was as satisfying as it was surprising and she failed to frame a reply for so long she thought he must assume she was contented with the portion of the tale she had thus far heard. When he lowered his arm and turned, she presumed he was intent on returning to the party and threw out her hands to forestall him. Whether he stopped because she wished him to or not, she was never to know, so humiliated was she to find herself with her hands pressed against his chest.

  “Oh!” she gasped in reparation but was robbed of further apologies when the thundering of his heart made itself known under her palm. This time, when he collected her hands for removal from his person, he brought them to his lips and kissed the tips of her gloved fingers.

  Suddenly she felt rather afraid and pulled her hands from his grasp in the case that the rumors of his depravity were true. Is so, she had fallen under his power exactly like the foolish, untried ingénue she was. “My lord,” she said, dismayed by the fact that the availability of air in her lungs was sporadic, at best, “I wonder that neither my father or my mother have sought me as of yet. They are certain to look here momentarily. Perhaps I should return to the dancing.”

  Lord Trevelin muttered a curse under his breath and paced a few steps away from her. Wrenching the ring from his finger, he once again placed it atop the parapet and braced a hand at each side of it, his arms tense with anger. “Yes, Lady Sophie, you must go, but if you shall, do not think you shall have the remainder of the tale from me at the next ball. Nor shall you have it of another for there is only one besides myself who knows the truth and he is not capable of anything but the vilest of lies.”

  Lady Sophie knew he referred to Mr. Rogers-Reimann, her father’s friend, one whom she had never been given cause to fear. Yet, she could not discount her good opinion of the man who stood on the veranda, staring out past the blackened branches reaching for the sky. She had followed him out into the night to know his story, and she would not be satisfied until she heard the whole of it.

  “I do humbly beg your pardon, my lord. I am persuaded Society cares overmuch as to a person’s external appearance, and I am saddened that the world should deem you evil because your expression has not always proven to be pleasant. I do not think I should rest if I did not hear how your character became confused with your scar as well as the character of your cousin’s.”

  She thought she saw a relenting of his spirit in the way his arms relaxed, just a trifle, at her words. However, he kept his distance from her as he continued his tale in terse tones.

  “My cousin wished to marry my betrothed as she was a great heiress. He demanded that I cry off so that he could comfort her in her sorrow and control her fortune in my stead. When I refused, he reminded me of the boon I had once promised to grant him. Yet, I still refused. To break off an engagement with a young lady is to imply she is not as good as she should be. I could not do that to her; I simply could not.” He heaved a great sigh and allowed his arms to drop to his sides. “That was when he threatened to spread foul rumors about her, all untrue but just as damaging as if they were. I reasoned that it would be better should she wed my cousin than to have such things said of her.”

  “You loved her,” Lady Sophie said in a voice that, to her surprise, was laden with sorrow.

  “If I had, truly, I should have told him to do his worst and married her, in any event. I should have found the courage to face the rejection of my peers, the ostracization from society, the perpetual banishment into the country. Instead, she became Mrs. Rogers-Reimann, and I am ostracized, just the same.”

  Lady Sophie could hardly believe the woman she had met any number of times could have once been betrothed to Lord Trevelin, but she felt he did not lie. “What a dreadful story. But how does that assassinate your character? There must be more.”

  “There is. In order to further poison Mrs. Rogers-Reimann’s feelings for me, he put it about that I had ruined the young lady of whom we first spoke. She was finally engaged to be married at the time, but her betrothed cried off when he heard the gossip. No one found any fault in him for so doing, save myself. I went to my cousin in a rage, demanding him to restore her reputation.” He turned his back to her and raked a hand through his hair.

  It occurred to Lady Sophie that the Marquis was deep in the grip of an emotional pain she could not cure or treat. She wanted to go to him, to take his hand in hers, to murmur words of comfort, but she had not his leave to touch him, not with her hand nor her heart. All she could do was to draw the story from him so that it was fully told.

  “And did he do as you asked?”

  “No.”

  She stared at the back of his coat, black as the shadows he faced and considered her next question carefully. “What happened to her?”

  “She…disappeared.” He hung his head as if it were he who had doomed her. “I made inquiries and eventually found her living in London in unspeakable circumstances. I had her moved to a cottage in the country, far away to the north, where she lives out her days.”

  Lady Sophie felt a new pain clutch her heart. “You call on her there?”

  The Marquis spun on his heel to face his accuser. “Never! Not once! I only wished to save her from a life of sin.”

  Lady Sophie was dizzied by the overwhelming relief that flooded her limbs, and she put a hand to her head. “And your cousin? He does nothing to repent of his sins?”

  The Marquis took a step closer and reached out a hand to lay over the ring where it sat atop the parapet. “He felt justified. As he informed me when I demanded reparation, the young lady in question was, indeed, no better than she should be. It was my cousin’s doing, the night before I thought to rescue her from his perfidy.”

  Lady Sophie was so overcome by this betrayal that she felt she might swoon, but Trevelin was at her side, his arm around her waist as he plied the fan she wore looped around her wrist.

  “I do not understand, my lord. How could such a thing have happened?”

  He gave her a long look and then released her when he had decided she was enough recovered to stand on her own, though his continued concern for her was evident on his face. “It is not my desire to trouble you any further, Lady Sophie. You have given me a great gift that I hesitate to repay with tales of such turpitude.”

  “But, you mustn’t stop now,” she implored.

  “Very well,” he said, favoring her with another long look. “In some manner my cousin surmised I planned to take action to prevent him from fleeing with the young lady. I had thought I was so clever, but he was more so. He never even took out his carriage that night. Instead, with the help of her foolish maid, he found his way to her room the night prior and spent the next in his bed laughing at my naiveté.”

  “Such treachery!” Lady Sophie gasped. “And Mrs. Rogers-Reimann; she was sacrificed to protect the reputation of such a man! Oh, Lord Trevelin, how you must suffer.”

  “Yes, but not on her account; our shallow love would not have lasted. I most regret having born the pangs of betrayal at the hand of one I undeservedly trusted, of having been falsely accused, of having been ostracized from society on account of something I was only said to have done. As such, I continually ache for what I have lost; not Mrs. Rogers-Reimann, but someone to love as much as I believed I loved her; for children; for happiness.”

  She felt the tears start in her eyes and spill down her cheeks. He sto
od with the scarred side of his mouth in full view yet she did not, could not see it, saw only the sweep of the dark curls against a furrowed brow over downcast eyes. She opened her mouth to say something that might have the power to remove the pain, but none came to her tongue. It was then that the door onto the veranda opened and Lord Trevelin moved so far and so quickly from her side, it was if a gust of wind took him away.

  Startled, she looked to see a man coming towards her and thanked the heavens that it was not her father. “Sir Anthony,” she said, “how does Lady Crenshaw tonight?”

  “She is at home. Our youngest is unwell, and she would not leave him. However, I promised your mother I would attend tonight so as to bespeak a dance with the realm’s most recent debutante.” It was then that he noticed Lord Trevelin where he stood in the shadows. “Are you in need of any assistance?” he asked as he looked from her to Lord Trevelin and back again.

  “Not at all, Sir. Will you convey my best wishes to Lady Crenshaw and your precious boys?”

  “Yes, I shall do so with delight,” Sir Anthony said congenially even as his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Lady Sophie, I do believe your mother was asking after you. Will you come with me and make me a keeper of my promises?” He formed his request in the politest of tones but the hand he held out to her brooked no argument.

  She knew she dared not refuse unless she wished to suffer the humiliation of having her father fetch her. “Yes, of course, I should love to,” she said with convincing enthusiasm as she placed her hand in that of Sir Anthony’s and allowed him to lead her inside. However, she was not denied a last glance of the man in the shadows as he returned the ring to its pocket and melted away.

  ************************************

  Lady Sophie had not enjoyed her Christmas as much as she ought. The previous fortnight had been replete with holiday parties and balls as well as the much loved traditions that kept her engaged in the creation of kissing balls and shopping for gifts. Yet, she felt none of her usual enthusiasm for any of it. She wondered if it were perhaps that she was no longer a child while she feared it had more to do with the absence of the Marquis from every outing. Even her father had commented on it, claiming Lord Trevelin never missed a party in spite of the fact that he was rarely if ever invited—an intelligence that smote her to the heart.