Family Scandals Read online

  Dedication

  To everyone who asked for Edward’s story. Enjoy!

  Prologue

  February 1872

  “Go, and do not look back.”

  “I couldn’t…”

  “You must. Promise me.”

  Corinna Houghton stared at the frail woman in the bed. Her gray hair lay around her head in wild disarray on the white pillow cover. The dark eyes staring back were filled with pain, but it could not dim the forcefulness of her words.

  “I can no longer protect you from Vincent, so you must promise me that you will go.”

  Corinna looked down at the hand clasped tightly in hers, tears forming for the first time in days. The hand was little more than skin and bones. Why her? Why did she lose everyone? Her parents. Her brother. And now, Great-aunt Mirabel.

  She had known for weeks that her aunt was dying. The doctor hadn’t trusted her enough to tell her anything, but she knew. She’d tried to ignore it, assuming that if the doctor hadn’t said anything to her, it wasn’t serious. Now, faced with her aunt’s insistence, she could no longer ignore the reality. She was about to be left alone in the world—again.

  The thin fingers tightened around hers, drawing her attention.

  “Promise me,” came her aunt’s insistent voice. A coughing spasm wracked her body for several moments.

  Corinna grabbed the cup of water from the bedside stand and helped her to drink. As she lifted her aunt’s decimated body, she could not blink the tears away fast enough.

  “It will be all right, Corinna. You are stronger than you realize. All will be well.”

  “But I…” Corinna wouldn’t contradict her, but she knew her aunt was wrong. She was a coward. A timid, afraid-of-her-own-shadow coward.

  “I know you are reluctant to go to your husband’s family, but you may not have a choice. It is his responsibility to protect you now.”

  Corinna closed her eyes. She shouldn’t have told Aunt Mirabel about Marcus. Ever since she’d done so, the woman insisted she should find him. But she had no idea where he was. Worse, she was certain the marriage wasn’t legal. So why should he be responsible for her if it wasn’t valid?

  She’d only been fourteen. No banns were read. No special license obtained. And it took place in the middle of the night. It was a sham from the beginning, only meant to be made public in dire circumstances and if he told his family. Something she knew hadn’t happened.

  After her brother’s death, she’d lost contact. Douglas had been the glue holding them together. He’d been the instigator of that late-night marriage of eight years ago. He’d arranged everything. Marcus had agreed with his logic, and so had participated willingly enough. But they all knew the marriage wasn’t supposed to last. Now she had no idea where Marcus was.

  “I will find a position…”

  “Perhaps.” Aunt Mirabel rallied for a moment. “We are not far from your old academy. Perhaps the headmistress might be able to help you.”

  “I do not think…”

  “What choice do you have?” Despite her pain and weakened state, her aunt continued to press. “If you will not go to London and seek out your husband’s family, then you must find employment.”

  Corinna could not argue. Once her aunt died, she would be alone and penniless in the world—again. She could not stay in the village. Her cousin had made her a figure of suspicion, insisting that she wasn’t who she said she was and, therefore, wasn’t his cousin at all. And when she’d rebuffed his advances, she’d earned his undying enmity. Life just wasn’t fair.

  “You know I cannot seek them out. I must speak to Marcus first.”

  “But you do not even know where he is.”

  Corinna sighed.

  “Listen to me, Corinna,” her aunt said urgently. “You must promise to do as I ask. Once I am gone, you will be at Vincent’s mercy. I cannot be at peace knowing I have left you in such a position. Please…promise me.”

  She couldn’t ignore the truth in her aunt’s plea. But what her aunt was asking…

  “Very well, I-I promise.”

  “You will not go back on your word?”

  The tears came then. Corinna could not hold them back. She shook her head. “No. I won’t. I promise.” Then she put her head in her hands and sobbed.

  She felt her aunt’s thin arms go around her, comforting her when it was her aunt who should have been receiving the comfort.

  “All will be well, Corinna. God will watch over you and see you come to no harm.”

  Corinna barely heard her. Once again, her life was disintegrating around her and she could not stop it.

  Chapter One

  May 1872, London

  I am writing to prevail upon your good graces to assist a former student who has been reduced to desperate circumstances…

  Miss Theresa Ridley of Miss Ridley’s Academy for Genteel Young Ladies to Felicia Waring, Duchess of Warringham

  Waring House far exceeded anything Corinna had ever dreamed of. The large, imposing mansion built of gray stone looked more like a country seat than a townhouse in London. Two staircases angled up to the massive double front door from along the circular drive. They were built that way to disguise a portico and short tunnel beneath which hid a private family entrance.

  Corinna followed Lady Wynton up the steps. Inside, she was awed into speechlessness. White silk-covered walls and dark wood paneling greeted her in the black-and-white marble tiled foyer lit by a massive gold and crystal chandelier. Corinna resisted the impulse to stare. She’d grown up in rich surroundings. Her father had been very wealthy for a baron, but she wondered if she’d ever feel comfortable in such a sumptuous place.

  After Aunt Mirabel’s death, she’d sought help from her old school mistress in finding a position. As luck would have it, Miss Ridley had recently learned the Duchess of Warringham was in need of a temporary governess. Within a fortnight, arrangements had been made and Lady Wynton, who had arrived to pick up her sister and was also the duchess’s sister-in-law, agreed to transport her to London.

  Now Corinna followed her into an elegantly appointed drawing room with ceiling-high windows along one wall. A blue-and-white floral pattern decorated the walls while her feet sank into a luxurious royal blue Aubusson carpet that matched the velvet drapes pulled back to let in the late afternoon sunshine. A piano sat in one corner of the room, behind which sat a woman and a young girl. The pair looked up as Corinna and Lady Wynton entered the room behind the butler.

  The girl jumped up and ran to Lady Wynton. “Aunt Amanda!”

  “Why, Caroline Waring,” Lady Wynton exclaimed as if in surprise, “you’re nearly all grown up, and here I am bringing you a new governess. Have the dandies started lining up to talk to your papa yet?”

  The raven-haired sprite giggled as they embraced. “Papa says I’m not to listen to you when you say such things.”

  “For shame!” Lady Wynton replied. “I shall have to talk to your papa about maligning my good name.”

  “Good day to you too, Amanda.” The woman had risen from the piano as well and crossed the room to where they stood. “This must be Miss Camden.”

  It took Corinna a moment to realize the duchess was speaking of her. It hadn’t been easy to explain to Miss Ridley why she wanted to be Corinna Camden when the headmistress had always known her as Amy Houghton. But after the trip she’d just spent with the countess and the countess’s sister, she was glad to have decided on a new name. She had no doubt that between them, the duchess and countess knew everyone in the ton, the Houghtons included. Using her own name might have given rise to questions she did not want to answer.

  The duchess was not what Corinna expected. She’d expected the duchess to be older, and more severe, not the warm, smil
ing young woman in front of her. With midnight dark hair and sapphire blue eyes in a creamy complexion, she was the perfect foil for Lady Wynton’s blonde hair and lighter blue eyes. Corinna wondered if the two had come out together.

  “Of course,” Lady Wynton replied. “Now, I must run. I left Cassie in the carriage as we are expected at Barrington House for tea. She was trying to marry Miss Camden off before we even arrived. But that is another story. I shall see you later.”

  Then she was gone and the duchess turned to her daughter, who had been watching Corinna with unconcealed interest.

  “Caroline, run and tell Wharton we are ready for tea, and then go find your brother.”

  “Must I, Mama?” Despite directing the question to the duchess, Caroline never took her eyes off Corinna.

  “But of course you must,” her mother replied. “All proper hostesses offer refreshments to their guests upon arrival.”

  “Oh. But I don’t know where Michael has gone,” she stalled.

  The duchess smiled. “I’m sure Jacobs or Wharton will help you to find him. Now run along. I’m sure Miss Camden is in sore need of a cup of tea.”

  The little girl obediently hurried off and Corinna found herself the object of the duchess’s perusal. She willed herself to stand still under the sharp regard.

  “Have we met before?”

  Corinna blinked in confusion. “N-no, Your Grace.”

  The duchess’s blue eyes narrowed speculatively. “Hmmm. It’s just that you seem familiar.”

  Corinna had nothing to say so she remained silent.

  Shaking her head suddenly, the duchess laughed. “But just look at me, where are my manners? Come, sit. I know it’s a bit early, but tea will be here shortly.”

  Corinna found it all very confusing. Nothing was happening as she thought it should. She expected to be shown directly to the nursery and entrusted with her charges.

  “So, Cassie tried to marry you off before you arrived,” the duchess mused after they were seated. “Who was the lucky young man?”

  Corinna felt the blood flow into her face at the duchess’s forwardness. She had dismissed the conversation in the coach as the fancy of a teenage girl. Cassie, Lady Wynton’s sister, insisted that Corinna resembled some of their relatives and should be invited into the fold when the duchess no longer needed her services. She’d then opined that Corinna needed a husband and had thrown out suggestions, to the amusement of her sister.

  Corinna found her endearing, but one name in particular stood out.

  “I believe she spoke of someone named Edward.” It had triggered a memory, reminding her that Marcus’s second name was Edward and she’d overheard him and Douglas discussing the fact that his family always called him Edward.

  “Edward? Oh, that would be a capital idea. That is, if we could get him to come home. But I’m afraid he’s enjoying himself too much in India at the moment. At least I hope he’s enjoying himself.”

  The door opened to admit the butler and the tea service, saving Corinna the necessity of replying to the duchess’s comment. They were scarcely settled with their cups when the door opened again to admit Caroline, followed by a boy with the same coloring and features.

  “I found him, Mama,” Caroline said proudly as she seated herself beside her mother on the sofa. The boy merely scowled at her and plopped down on the carpet at the duchess’s feet.

  “She didn’t find me,” he stated. “Jacobs knew where I was.”

  The duchess smiled fondly down at him. “Then we will not give her the credit then, will we.”

  The boy looked up at her and grinned, but said nothing.

  “Now, I should like you to greet Miss Camden. She will be taking Miss Kendall’s place until she returns.”

  Both children immediately rose and stood before her. Caroline executed a very nice curtsy while Michael performed an excellent bow.

  “I’m Michael.”

  “I’m Caroline.”

  “How do you do?” the two said in unison. The introductions were done with such practiced ease, Corinna wondered how often they performed them.

  “I’m delighted to meet you,” she replied.

  “Kenny’s mama is sick,” Caroline informed her.

  “Do you like to fish?” Michael asked.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” she answered Caroline, then turned to Michael. “Yes, I do. I used to go fishing occasionally with my brother.”

  “Caroline doesn’t like the worms,” he told her.

  “Sometimes girls don’t,” she replied. “And sometimes boys don’t either.”

  “Do you like to read stories?” Caroline asked.

  “I love stories. What kind do you like?”

  “The ones about princesses and castles. I’m going to marry a prince when I grow up.”

  “And I’m sure you will make a wonderful princess,” Corinna replied, amused at the face Michael made at his sister’s comment.

  “No prince will marry you,” he told his sister. “They only marry princesses.”

  Caroline whirled to face her brother, hands on her hips, but the duchess intervened, aborting the brewing argument before it started. The children obediently resumed their seats, but not before they each helped themselves to biscuits off the tea tray.

  Conversation resumed with the duchess explaining the children’s routine and studies. Corinna was surprised the duchess was so intimately involved and familiar with her children’s days, but she had already observed that the duchess was on excellent terms with her children.

  The door to the drawing room opened again. Caroline jumped up from her seat.

  “Papa!”

  Corinna looked up just in time to see Caroline launch herself at the blond giant who entered the room. Trying hard not to stare, Corinna watched in fascination as he picked the little girl up and tossed her into the air as if she weighed no more than a feather. Caroline squealed in delight as he caught her, then wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “We have a new governess. She’s come to take Kenny’s place until Kenny comes back. She likes stories and even likes to fish.” The last was said in breathless tones of disbelief.

  The duke’s deep voice responded. “Does she now? I didn’t know such a paragon existed. Stories and fishing?” Corinna felt herself blush again.

  Still holding Caroline, he seated himself next to his wife and reached out to ruffle Michael’s hair. Michael turned and grinned up at him and Corinna immediately saw the resemblance in the straight patrician nose and around the eyes. She could see that the twins, while receiving their mother’s hair and high cheekbones, had inherited their eyes and nose from their father.

  “Jacobs says any day now,” Michael told his father. “And he says I can help—but only if you say so.”

  “Can I help too?” Caroline interrupted.

  Michael scowled. “No, you can’t. A birthin’ is no place for a girl.”

  The duke chuckled and glanced at his wife, who also found Michael’s statement amusing.

  “Michael,” the duke inquired mildly, “just what do you think a mare is?”

  “It’s a horse,” the boy responded.

  “What kind of horse?”

  Michael suddenly understood. “A girl horse,” he replied glumly. “But girls are squeamish and Jacobs says a birthin’ is no place for someone who is squeamish.”

  The duke nodded. “True. But we will discuss this later, hmmm?”

  Michael did not respond, but threw his sister a smug look before reaching up to take another biscuit off the tea tray and settling down to munch on it.

  The duchess introduced her to the duke who, as she started to rise, said, “Pray, stay seated. We are fairly informal around here, unless the situation demands different.” He studied her for a moment, before saying, “So, you like to fish?”

  “I often went fishing with my brother, Your Grace.”

  “He took you along?” he asked conversationally.

  “Sometimes,” she answered im
pishly. “Most of the time I tagged along with he and M—uh, his friend, so they didn’t have any choice except to let me join in.” Turning to look at Michael, she added, “And I was not so squeamish that I wasn’t willing to bait my own hook.”

  The duke laughed at her quip. The duchess smiled. Caroline, however, gave an exaggerated shiver and said, “Ewwww.”

  After tea, the duchess showed her to a small, but beautifully appointed room near the stairs leading to the nursery, explaining that since Miss Kendall was due to return they saw no need to pack up her things to make room for Corinna. Penny, the nursery maid, and Miss Timson, the baby’s nurse, slept in the nursery so she needn’t worry that the children were alone.

  The arrangement suited Corinna just fine, because it served as a reminder that she was only in the household temporarily. Any day, Miss Kendall might return to displace her. Once alone, she unpacked her few belongings, then wandered over to the open window.

  Closing her eyes, she conjured up Marcus’s face. Dark brown eyes and dark brown hair in an angular face. That was all she could remember, but there was one thing she knew for sure. He looked nothing like his brother—the duke. When Miss Ridley had asked her if she would accept this temporary arrangement, she’d nearly hugged the woman. What better way to find out where Marcus was than in the home of his brother? And now?

  In the house less than two hours and she already felt comfortable. Perhaps she should tell them about Marcus. What would they do? A letter would be sent off to Marcus, which would take weeks, perhaps months, to get to India and more weeks or months to receive a return reply. All that time she would be living on sufferance Marcus would reply that she was who she said she was. No, that would not do.

  She could not be idle. For now, she’d be the children’s governess until she could write to Marcus herself. And she’d only reveal her dilemma if Miss Kendall returned before Marcus replied to her.

  A week later she nearly allowed her pride to get in the way of necessity. Over tea Caroline blithely announced to her mother they needed to go shopping because Corrie, as the twins had dubbed her, only had two dresses.