Lucy’s hand dropped away. As well it should. His actions that evening were deplorable. There was no excuse. Of course, she didn’t want to touch him. He wouldn’t blame Lucy if she never wanted to be near him again. He hated himself for what he’d said that night.
“My father stepped in after that. He grabbed me by the collar and hauled me back to the house and locked us both in the library. He told me, in no uncertain terms, that I would propose to Dorothea and marry by special license by the end of the week, or he’d have nothing more to do with me. We argued, but in the end, I agreed. I knew he was right. I had no other options if I was to remain in Society and not lose my position in the Foreign Office.”
“You’re married?” Lucy said, her voice little more than a squeak. She pushed away from him in horror, her eyes wide.
“I’m not married,” Duncan said. “Unfortunately.”
Lucy froze and stared at him. “I don’t understand.”
Duncan wished he didn’t understand. He wished he didn’t have to tell the rest of the story. He wished he could forget it, but Lucy had asked why he had changed. And perhaps she ought to know something about the scoundrels she professed to find so attractive.
“My father and I spoke for more than an hour. After which, I went to find Dorothea so I might propose. I was very much dragging my feet, feeling as though the ball and chain had already been shackled. But I couldn’t find her. I looked everywhere and asked everyone, and no one could find her. And then someone did.”
His gaze met Lucy’s. Her large brown eyes were wide and her lush mouth in an O.
“Someone screamed. We later found out it was Dorothea’s maid. She had also been looking for her mistress and couldn’t find her. It had grown dark and rainy, so she went to close the bed chamber window and happened to look down. She saw Dorothea lying in a heap on the stone path below.”
Lucy hissed in a breath.
“She’d jumped?”
“Not officially. Officially the cause of death was a fall. I’m sure my father paid the magistrate an enormous sum to put that in the records. But I think we all know that she didn’t fall. She jumped because she had nothing to live for. I’d taken what she thought was a special moment, essentially called her a whore, and refused to marry her. I’d ruined not only her but her entire family. How were they to marry her to someone with money now? And you know how thetonoperates. The sisters were tainted as much as Dorothea.”
“But if you’d married her, her reputation would be saved. Well, not saved exactly, but over time people would forget or pretend to, at least.”
“Yes. If I hadn’t said I’d never marry her, she’d still be alive. It’s my fault. There’s no one else to blame. She was a sweet girl, and I took advantage of her.”
“Duncan.”
“No.” He jumped up. “I don’t want your pity. I hear it in your voice, Lucy. I’ve lived with this for years, and I deserve to live with it. I certainly didn’t deserve what came next.”
“What was that?”
“My uncle managed to keep the scandal out of most of the papers. I already told you my father bribed the magistrate to say the cause of death was accidental. Rumors spread, of course, but I managed to keep my position with the Foreign Office. The first day of work the secretary himself called me into his office and said I’d better not give him a reason to regret giving me a chance. I never did. In fact, after Dorothea, I avoided women as much as possible. Until you, I hadn’t so much as kissed a woman since that night.”
Chapter Fifteen
