Times has been nothing but effusive in its praise of him, as is well-deserved. He took his duties seriously, and anyone can see that the war against the Fenians is being won thanks in part to his tireless work.”
“What would happen, I wonder, if word of his sister’s attempts to ruin the Earl of Sinclair were to become public knowledge at such a sensitive time?” the earl asked, stroking his jaw with his long, elegant fingers, his tone contemplative.
Something inside her froze. With fear. Understanding.
Finality.
In her lap, her hands clenched her ruined skirts. “What are you suggesting, my lord? Speak plainly, if you please. I grow weary of this game.”
“The Younger Mr. White is willing to attest to the true identity of the author of Confessions of a Sinful Earl,” he said, his gaze skewering hers. “You, darling betrothed. I have a letter from him, written and signed in his own hand, waiting to be posted to The Times. One word from me, and Young Mr. White will reveal all to every scandal sheet and journal in England.”
His calm pronouncement hit her with the force of a fist to the gut, robbing the air from her lungs.
No.
No.
No.
One word—denial—it was all she could think, a litany, a waterfall. Rushing through her mind, obliterating everything else. She had been so careful. Careful to keep her identity a secret. Careful to always use the Lady’s Suffrage Society as the reason to visit her publisher’s office.
“You appear shocked, princess.” The bitterness had returned to the earl’s voice, and so, too, the sharp edge. “Imagine, if you will, the impact such troubling information would have upon Westmorland’s reputation, which already hangs in the balance. His innocent sister—one who caused tongues to wag with her daring behavior abroad—writing tales of orgies and opium eating. Writing the sort of filth a proper lady never ought to be acquainted with. No one shall be surprised, and with the younger Mr. White ready and willing to swear to the truth of his statement, we both know who will be believed, do we not? I do wonder at your carnal knowledge myself, beloved betrothed, but perhaps it will prove a boon. At least in the procuring of my heir and spare. You certainly seemed amenable earlier this morning.”
The bastard.
He had entrapped her. He had outmaneuvered her. If this had been a game of chess, it was checkmate. She knew better than anyone that her place in society was precarious at best. Her reputation was already somewhat tarnished from her days in Paris with Aunt Fanchette.
But if it became common fame that she had written Confessions of a Sinful Earl, her reputation would not be salvageable. In truth, she did not care for herself. Callie’s heart belonged to Simon, and he was forever lost to her. She had no intention to marry. However, it was not herself she was concerned for.
Benny and Isabella…their marriage was so new, so hard-fought, so well-deserved. Isabella and Benny had nearly been killed by a Fenian in her typewriting school. It had only been Benny’s bravery and timely intervention which had saved her. And now, they were married, on their honeymoon, savoring each other and their love.
If Benny returned to Callie’s ruination, he would be devastated.
And he had just found his happiness.
The woman who was meant to be his wife, just as Simon had been meant to be Callie’s husband. If she could not have the life she had dreamt of, she would be damned before she would allow anyone to take that from Benny. She loved her brother. Fiercely and devotedly.
Worse, this black mark against her, if it were to be made known, could do far more than cause Benny and Isabella upset and worry. It could harm them as well. Sinclair was correct, damn him. There had been a great deal of rumors surrounding Benny and Isabella. With Isabella’s life in danger, Benny had diverted Scotland Yard agents to her protection. If scrutiny were to be placed upon him because of her…
“I see your devious mind at work, my future countess.”
The earl’s voice cut through her wildly spinning thoughts.
She met his gaze. “What manner of despicable villain would seek to hurt a man who is courageous and good, a man who has devoted himself to keeping us all safe from danger? A man who has nothing to do with any of this?”
He inclined his head. “A man who has nothing left to lose, princess. A man you ruined.” He took a lingering bite of