Deborah Hale

His Compromised Countess


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and insisted she must marry him. On that occasion Caroline had not protested or even feigned reluctance, but returned his ardour with an answering passion he had not expected from an innocent young lady. At the time, her fiery desire had not troubled him—quite the contrary. Now he chided himself for not seeing where it might lead one day.

      ‘So when you say you’re sorry,’ he rasped through clenched teeth, ‘you do not mean you regret what you did. Only that you got caught red-handed this time.’

      ‘No! I mean… of course I’m sorry it turned into such a scandalous spectacle and embarrassed us both. But I’m also sorry I did not behave with more prudence and propriety.’ Each word sounded more forced than the one before it.

      It was clear she didn’t mean a word. His errant wife was only spouting whatever she thought might save her from ruin.

      Bennett shook his head. ‘That is the most improbable tale I have heard in a great while. You must take me for a perfect idiot. Though perhaps I encouraged you to think me an easy dupe by not suspecting your prior indiscretions.’

      ‘What prior indiscretions?’ she demanded. ‘I never committed adultery with Mr Astley, let alone any other man!’

      He resisted the temptation to believe her. Now that the wool had been ripped from his eyes, like that curtain at Almack’s, so many incidents that had seemed innocent at the time took on much more ominous significance. Their marriage had long since lost its original enchantment for him. Now he wanted nothing more than to be rid of the wife who had brought further shame upon the family honour he’d worked so hard to restore.

      Bennett gave a harsh, mirthless chuckle. ‘I would hardly expect you to admit such a thing, though the truth would make a refreshing change.’

      ‘But it is the truth!’ She had the devil’s own gall to sound offended by his doubts. ‘I cannot deny I have been admired by other men, but this was the first time matters went so far.’

      He did not want to have this conversation with her. It served no purpose but to further inflame the feelings he was struggling so hard to control. ‘Do you reckon anyone in the Doctors’ Commons would believe that after what was seen and heard tonight by so many unimpeachable witnesses?’

      His reference to the ecclesiastical court brought a gasp from Caroline. ‘Did you mean it when you threatened to seek damages against Mr Astley?’

      Finally the full consequences of her actions seemed to dawn on her.

      ‘You should know by now, I am not in the habit of saying things I do not mean. Insincerity is Fitz Astley’s forte, not mine.’

      Caroline did not bother to defend her paramour, being much more concerned with her own interests. ‘You cannot propose to divorce me over a single kiss I didn’t want and the accusations of a blackguard who would take such vile advantage of a lady.’

      Did she not realise there were far worse things he could do than divorce her? ‘I can assure you, a great many Bills of Divorcement have passed through Parliament on the strength of less damning evidence.’

      ‘But that’s not fair!’ she cried, as if she were an innocent victim.

      ‘The world is not fair!’ Bennett thundered. ‘As you might know if you would once look beyond the tip of your pretty nose. Every day innocent children are born or sold into slavery, torn from their families at the whim of cruel masters. Have you any idea how much damage you may have done to the Abolition Movement with your wanton, wilful behaviour? Or do you not give a damn?’

      ‘Of course I do! I have heard and seen and breathed Abolition ever since I was young enough for Mr Wilberforce to bounce me on his knee. But how can I have hurt your cause?’

      It galled him to have to explain to her. ‘I have made great progress, rallying support for an Abolition Bill in the House of Lords, which has always been a stumbling block in the past. How effective an advocate do you suppose I will be when it becomes known my wife has been bedded by my most vicious opponent? No one respects a cuckold.’

      ‘But you aren’t! That’s what I am trying to tell you, if you’d only heed me.’ She leaned towards him, emerging from the shadows into the faint light shed by the street lamps, her arm outstretched.

      Bennett resisted the urge to pull her into his arms and reassert his claim upon her, as another part of him longed to do. That was dangerous weakness to which he must not succumb.

      Perhaps realising she had exhausted all other means of saving herself, Caroline marshalled her final-line defence. ‘If you divorce me, I may never see Wyn again!’

      ‘See him again?’ How dared she try to use their son that way, after what she’d done? Her behaviour was a betrayal of the child as much as him. ‘You do not see much of him now that I can tell. You swan into the nursery for an hour or two to amuse yourself. Once you’ve got the boy overexcited and fractious you leave Mrs McGregor to manage him. Wyn would be far better off without a mother who treats him like a plaything to be picked up and cast aside again at a whim.’

      Before Caroline could attempt to defend herself from his charges, their carriage came to a stop in front of his club.

      ‘What are we d-doing here?’ she asked in a dazed, plaintive tone against which Bennett steeled his heart.

      The earlier fight seemed to have gone out of her. In a splash of light from the street lamp, Bennett glimpsed her bare arms wrapped around her torso and realised she was shivering.

      ‘I intend to stay here tonight,’ he announced, then added, ‘You left your cloak.’

      ‘I d-didn’t think of it until w-we were outside. And I didn’t d-dare go back for fear you’d leave me b-behind.’

      He would have been well within his rights to do just that, Bennett mused bitterly. Yet a deeply ingrained code of gentlemanly conduct compelled him to remove his coat and thrust it towards her. ‘Take this.’

      Caroline only hesitated an instant before pulling the garment around her.

      Now Bennett had one thing left to say to her. Ever since they’d quit Almack’s, part of his mind had remained detached, pondering how best to handle this beastly situation. One step was imperative. ‘You must get out of town first thing tomorrow and stay away until the worst of the tattle dies down.’

      Expecting her to object, he was surprised when she replied, ‘Where shall I go? Brighton?

      Bath?’

      ‘Good Lord, no! The gossip will spread there in no time and word of your whereabouts would get back just as fast. You must retire to some place as far away as possible from society.’

      He’d considered and discarded a score of options. Now, suddenly, the ideal destination occurred to him. ‘The Isles of Scilly. I have a house there, on Tresco.’

      He hadn’t thought of the place in years. Now that he had, it seemed a perfectly fitting destination for his adulterous wife.

      How could she have been so foolish and unguarded as to place everything she cared about in jeopardy? As the carriage sped through Kensington towards Sterling House, the harsh tribunal of her conscience chilled Caroline worse than the damp cold of the windy April night.

      After all, she was not some green girl fresh from the country in her first Season. Over the years she had seen enough scandal to recognise the impropriety of slipping into that curtained alcove with a man other than her husband. She should have known how incriminating it would look if they were discovered there, even without the kiss.

      That damnable kiss! How could she have let it happen? She still found it difficult to reconcile the scoundrel who’d taken such a liberty, then callously dragged her name through the dirt, with the charming gentleman who’d traded witty banter with her over the card table and cast admiring glances at her on the dance floor. She’d thought it was only a harmless, flattering flirtation, like a number of others she’d enjoyed in the past without ever compromising her reputation.

      When