What was he really concerned with? Protecting her innocence—or protecting the love and belief she had in him?
Chapter Fifteen
Lucan had not thought there was anything his friends could do to render him speechless, and he was not a man easily surprised.
“You did what?” he asked for the second time, certain he had been mistaken.
Even the Reverend looked flummoxed, and he was the most unflappable one of their depraved group. The Reverend’s obsidian eyes were carefully void of all emotions as he looked at both Lucan and Ainsley.
“I leaked a story of Lady Constance being seen here to my inside source at The Spectator. It was run two mornings ago. You were away on business in Derbyshire, and I realized you were not aware of the situation. Here is the sheet in the event you wish to read it,” Ainsley murmured at bit warily.
With a calmness Lucan did not feel, he picked up the paper and read the notice. He went cold. She is ruined. He already knew how the scandal would be received by society. Because of his wealth and title he would be forgiven. Instead of calling him out for his reprehensible actions of having her in his club and kissing her, the mammas of the haute monde would applaud his good sense in escaping the trap the bastard girl had set for him.
He fought down the rage that bit at his insides and buried his emotions deep. He did not know what Ainsley saw when he looked at him, but the man was smart enough to step back a few paces and held up his hand.
“Hear me out, Lucan.”
“I do not think there is anything to hear. You have taken steps to ruin her further, after I changed my path. She will not be able to recover from this. Why would you act so maliciously toward her?”
“Lucan, I—”
“Hold your fucking tongue,” Lucan snarled. “I trusted you and you betrayed my confidence.”
“I thought it was the only way—”
Within two strides he stood in front of Ainsley, grabbed him by his collar, and slammed him into the bookcase. The violence tearing through Lucan’s gut begged for an outlet, and he ruthlessly struggled against smashing Ainsley’s teeth into his thick skull. “The only way for what?”
Ainsley gripped the hands fisting his collar. “For you to let go of this vengeance and marry the woman you hold such obvious affections for. I can see how you feel about her. I have never seen anyone leave you in such knots. And you are not just one of us anymore. You are now a duke, Lucan, a duke. I have seen you happy for the first time in years. I could think of no other way to get you to direct your happiness toward her. And I know you are pig-headed enough to let her slip through your fingers. But I also know how much you care for her, and those affections you have for her would never allow you to truly see her ruined.”
Lucan pushed Ainsley away, damn the man for trying to manipulate him. For once again, it was Constance paying the price. “How do you think she is not completely ruined now?”
“If you marry her, society will forgive her. You are the Duke of Mondvale, you know. But better, you are the Lord of Sin. You provide the means for high society to satiate their appetite for the sinful and forbidden. They secretly love you for it. As your duchess, she will be unable to fall to ruin.”
Lucan knew the truth of it. If her brothers had been able to wed her to a duke, possibly all he had been doing from the shadows would have been prevented. For as he understood, the realm had less than thirty dukes and most were married and doddering. As a duchess, she would command respect despite being the Beautiful Bastard. But could he do it? Combine his family with the man who had callously contributed to the ruin of a most beloved sister?
Everything in him rebelled against the idea. To wed her, he would have to forgive Calydon. “I will not forgive you anytime soon for this, Ainsley,” Lucan promised. The hurt and condemnation she must be facing now was insupportable.
“I know you will demand satisfaction for this, Lucan. I will meet you in the ring for several bouts tonight,” Ainsley offered. “But this was the only way I could think of to get you to stop behaving so foolishly and claim the woman your heart has chosen.”
Without speaking, Lucan grabbed his coat and top hat and swept from the room. He would fix this, but certainly not in the manner Ainsley expected.
…
“The Duke of Mondvale is here?” Constance asked Mr. Harris for the third time.
“Yes, my lady.”
Good heavens.
Why had he come? She was the only one at home. Should she see him? Not even Charlotte was present, having left earlier in a secretive rush. “Have you informed His Grace that Lord and Lady Radcliffe are not at home?”
Mr. Harris gave her a slight smile and nod. “I was once again informed he wishes to speak with Lady Constance.”