At least she'd managed to help him in that regard. "You will never regret it."

"There is something else, and you are under no obligation to answer. I'm greatly disturbed by what happened to you and about your father's state of mind. The day he came here, his spirits seemed good, but when he heard our mothers discussing plans for you, he was extremely discomposed. He was also drinking copious amounts of brandy. I don't want to judge him, as I've been guilty of overindulging, but I had the impression that he is overwrought."

She looked at her clasped hands. "It's my fault."

"You're not responsible for his reactions."

She met his eyes briefly. "I was taken in by a cad."

"Angeline, it occurs to me that you have no one to talk to about what happened. I know whatever occurred is painful for you. You've likely had to hold it all inside. I think that must make matters far worse. If you prefer privacy, I understand, but I will listen without judgment."

He'd honed in on one of the most difficult aspects. She'd had no one to confide in and had never felt comfortable discussing the events with her mother. In truth, she'd hidden much from her mother in Paris to spare her additional pain.

She took a deep breath. "You are perceptive. There has been no one I could trust, and by the time everything fell apart, I had no friends to confide in. Everyone had shunned me. I don't blame them at all. We both know the rules of the ton. Almost anything is tolerated except indiscretion, but I am beforehand in my tale."

"Start from the beginning," he said.

"Not once did it ever occur to me that I might ever be in danger from a rake. Who would dare meddle with a duke's daughter? So I flirted, danced, and traded quips with gentlemen. I ignored my mother's dire warnings that I'd gained the label of flirt and was courting trouble. Then one day, I awoke to the realization that I was thirty years old and in serious danger of becoming a spinster."

"How did you get involved with Brentmoor?"

"Charlotte invited me to join her and her husband, Viscount Portsworth, at Vauxhall. There was a large party in the box, and I felt safe with my friends. Brentmoor joined the group, but he was not one of the invited guests. Portsworth did not ask him to leave, probably because he didn't want to create a stir."

Colin nodded. "Yes, it's usually best to ignore the interlopers, but I suspect Brentmoor made a habit of it."

"I knew Brentmoor had a bad reputation, but I didn't give him a second thought. I figured he would not dare trifle with me in the presence of esteemed friends. After a while, someone suggested the group walk along the lighted avenues. Brentmoor made it a point to walk beside me. When he tried to flirt, I told him he was wasting his breath. I might as well have waved a red flag in front of a bull. The evening concluded without incident, and I promptly dismissed him from my thoughts.

"Thereafter, he seemed to be at every entertainment I attended. He tried to charm me, but I refused his requests to dance. One night I left a crowded ballroom to get some air on the landing. I fanned my hot face and paid scant attention to the group of gentlemen nearby. Then I overheard one of them say that I was headed for ape territory."

Colin gritted his teeth. It was a derogatory term for spinsters. "Who was he?"

"I've no idea. As you can imagine, I did not want to face them. In hindsight, I should have stared them down with my head held high, but I was humiliated. My mother had warned me about the perils of waiting too long to marry, but I didn't think it applied to me. I thought my father's rank would protect me. I was desperate to keep my composure, but I was shaking. Then Brentmoor was at my side. He'd heard it all and d.a.m.ned the cads who had dared to speak of me in such an insulting manner.

"He insisted on escorting me into the ballroom to my father, where I would be safer. Then he apologized and said he knew he wasn't worthy of me. Of course, I negated that statement, and my father was grateful. After all, he was kind to me and admitted his character was imperfect. The next day he called upon me and spoke to my father. Once again, he admitted he was unworthy, but he had wanted to ensure I had recovered from that heinous insult. He stated that he would not presume to call again, because he was unfit.

"My mother was suspicious, but my father thought Brentmoor's honesty about his faults showed his character wasn't all bad. Thereafter, he would seek out my father at entertainments."

"He was scheming," Colin said.

"Oh, yes, but we did not know it then. He discovered my father loved to play chess, and my father invited him to call. Afterward, he regularly came to our town house to play with my father."

"He is an opportunist," Colin said.

"My first inkling of doubt came from Penny's reaction. She left the drawing room every time Brentmoor called. She is especially sensitive. When I asked her about it, she said his eyes lied. I thought it strange and let it go. I should have paid attention.

"Then one night after we'd danced, he told me that he was in danger of falling in love with me, but of course he was undeserving. Deep down, I knew that something wasn't quite right, but I persuaded myself that I was in love, because I feared being a spinster. He admitted to my father that he was in debt. His father was a known drunkard, and he said that he gambled because his father was almost bankrupt. I did not know it then, but my father loaned him money."

"The devil," Colin said.

"My friend Charlotte tried to counsel me to be wary of him. She was very worried, because her husband had told her that I was making a bad mistake. I was a little angry at her presumption. At every point, I ignored the warning signs, because I feared that I would end up a spinster. Oh, G.o.d, if I had only known."

"He duped your father. Do not blame yourself."

"How can I not blame myself? I had doubts. I knew something wasn't right."

"There are men who are experts at deceiving others. They sense other's vulnerabilities and take advantage. When doubts come to the forefront, they manage to ease them."

"You describe his character well. I feel like a fool."

"You should not."

"He proposed, and I accepted. By then, he'd said all the right things to my father, who approved. My parents had a row over it. Like Penny, my mother saw through him. I pleaded with her. Brentmoor was trying to turn his life around, and he'd not had a good father to guide him. My own father agreed, and the contracts were duly signed. It was at that point his true character emerged."

"What happened?"

"One night at a ball, Brentmoor took me aside and complained he was frustrated. He said he feared I was a prude and wanted me to prove myself, but I refused to allow him liberties until we were married."

"Good for you," Colin said. Privately, he was relieved. It would have been a nightmare if the scoundrel had gotten her with child.

"He was determined. At another ball, he pointed out the lanterns in a garden and the other guests walking about. He a.s.sured me there was no impropriety. At first, all was well, but then he took me away from the lanterns. When I chided him, he managed to make me feel guilty for denying him. We were engaged, so I let him kiss me. I believed he would behave like a gentleman, but when a group of men came near, he gave me a lascivious kiss and plastered himself against me. I could tell it excited him for others to see us, but I was mortified."

"You ought to have slapped him."

"In front of others? I dared not create a scene."

"I never thought about how a woman might be entrapped that way."

"Of course you would not, because you would never do such a thing. I knew in my heart that the way he was treating me was wrong. I should have called off the engagement at that moment."

"Why did you not?" Colin asked.

"Because I knew if I broke the engagement that it would hurt my reputation." She shook her head. "I should have consulted my parents, but they were in disagreement over my engagement, and that alone should have decided me."

"Angeline, I suspect that he twisted matters and caused you to question your judgment."

"He did," she said. "He was very persuasive-he had to be or my father would never have let him step over the threshold. He concentrated all of his charm on my father and me. But he ignored Penny and Mama. They saw through him."

"When your father thanked Brentmoor for rescuing you at that ball, he'd given Brentmoor the opening he needed. He concentrated on you and your father because you were the decision-makers. In order to get what he wanted-your fortune-he needed to make you believe he was a gentleman who had experienced undeserved misfortune at the hands of his father. Similarly, he needed to persuade your father that he was seeking parental guidance. He gulled you and your father. When your father spoke well of him, you believed Brentmoor was a gentleman. Similarly, when you mentioned Brentmoor's wish to improve his character, your father believed him worthy of consideration, particularly because he was so humble. In essence he played the two of you simultaneously. What finally prompted you to end the engagement?"

"One evening, Brentmoor made plans to meet a friend at White's. I was glad for the reprieve. To be honest, I felt I needed to think carefully about the step I was about to make. I was starting to feel a little panicked. If he really loved me, he would have respected my decision to wait for marriage and not press me constantly. I had so many doubts and wish now that I had listened to my own heart.

"That very night, my friend Charlotte invited me to accompany her to a ball, because her husband was out of town. I welcomed the invitation, and her younger brother escorted us. I never thought anything could possibly go wrong at a respectable entertainment.

"I distinctly recall seeing Lady Cunningham, whom I'd met once. She was the widow of a much older man. She had the strangest expression when I saw her staring at me from a distance. The word that came to mind was gloating. I ignored it.

"The ballroom was hot and crowded. I do not know how much time pa.s.sed when I went to get a cup of punch. A footman approached and asked if I was Lady Angeline, and when I said yes, he handed me a folded note. I did not recognize the handwriting. I sought out Charlotte and showed her the strange note with instructions to go up two flights of stairs and knock on the fourth door on the right. Charlotte advised me not to follow the instructions, as it might be a trick. Curiosity got the better of me, and Charlotte reluctantly accompanied me."

"What happened?" Colin asked.

"When we reached the door, Charlotte begged me not to knock. I told her that I wanted to confront whoever had sent that note. When I knocked, Brentmoor's voice rang out. I will never forget his words. It was ugly."

"What did he say?"

"Go away, I'm...well, you can supply the filthy word he used. A feminine laugh rang out. The squeaking of bed ropes told me more than I wanted to know."

"He is beyond disgusting," Colin said.

"Charlotte pleaded with me to leave immediately, but I was enraged and knocked repeatedly. The bed ropes squeaked again. I heard the rustling of skirts. When he opened the door, his trousers were only half b.u.t.toned. Lady Cunningham smirked at me as she shook out her skirts. Fury raced through me like a wildfire. I was enraged and slapped him. Of course the commotion led others to race up the stairs. I had done the unpardonable by creating a scene. You know the ton will tolerate many things, but not indiscretion."

"What happened?" he said.

"Charlotte's brother ushered us downstairs, but by then the gossip was flying. My face was as hot as fire, but I walked down those stairs and through the foyer with my head held high, even though I saw others staring. I thought they would support me, because he had been unfaithful. I was nave to believe it.

"My heart hammered, and I kept telling Charlotte I was sorry for ever involving her. After her brother took me home, I was still shaking as I walked into the house. My parents had not returned from the opera. I decided to wait until morning to confess the sorry story, but I did not sleep at all that night.

"You can imagine my parents' horrified reaction upon hearing what had occurred. My father's face grew mottled and my mother was pale. When I told them I would cry off, my mother rushed out of the drawing room. I was worried and followed her. She'd gotten sick. The consequences had not yet dawned on me. I was not thinking clearly or I would have realized that breaking an engagement would result in gossip, but I didn't realize it would get far worse."

"You were still in shock," Colin said.

"My father sent round a message to Brentmoor, demanding he present himself posthaste. When Brentmoor arrived, he said it was all a misunderstanding and that he sought relief elsewhere to protect my feminine sensibilities before the marriage."

"The devil," Colin said.

"An apt description of him. At that point, my shock had worn off. When I told him that we were no longer affianced, his face paled. No doubt he'd counted on my fortune. After he departed, I was relieved, but it did not last. Charlotte called on me three days later. After my mother left the room, Charlotte reluctantly divulged the horrible news her brother had revealed. Brentmoor claimed he'd..."

"What did he claim?"

"He said he had l-lain with me many times."

"He should be shot," Colin said. "Why did I never hear a word about it?"

"Most likely no one would have repeated it to you because of our family connections. I never told my parents about the slur. Mama was a ball of nerves, and Papa wouldn't even leave his study."

"Why would anyone believe Brentmoor?"

"We had been affianced for a fortnight, and others had seen him plastered against me in the unlit portion of the gardens."

Colin scowled. "He planned it."

"Probably. I will never know for certain. The repercussions were awful. My father refused to see anyone."

"He blamed himself," Colin said.

"My mother's two closest friends called four days later to warn her about the gossip. It was bad. My mother's friends advised taking me to the Continent. It did no good. My reputation followed me to Paris, though my mother still has no idea."

Colin frowned. "What do you mean?"

"A number of Frenchmen made me scandalous offers."

He bounded off the sofa and fisted his hands. She could hear him breathing like a racehorse. "Colin, it is in the past. Nothing can be changed."

"I will call him out."

"If you did, it would only make matters worse because it would renew the scandal."

"He deserves to be horse whipped."

"The part that keeps me awake at night is what I've done to my family."

"You are innocent," he said.

"You don't understand. The scandal will follow Penny. She is the innocent in all of this, and she will suffer by a.s.sociation." Her face crumpled. "My sweet little sister m-may never have a come-out because of me."

He strode back to her and pulled out a handkerchief. "You did nothing wrong."

She blotted her eyes. "My quick temper landed me in trouble. Had I maintained my composure that night, had I walked away as a lady ought, had I listened to Charlotte, I would have escaped the scandal. I could have survived a broken engagement. My mother's friends would have championed me. Others might have questioned my virtue, but I could have overcome it if I had not played into Lady Cunningham's scheme. I am sure she was behind it."

"Angeline, I cannot believe there is no way to resolve this."

She huffed. "There is. Marriage to a very wealthy and t.i.tled gentleman, but no man with sense wants a woman with a ruined past. He would have to be desperate."

Colin stared at her.

The backs of her hands p.r.i.c.kled at his intense expression. "What are you thinking?" she asked.

"As it happens, I am desperate."

Chapter Seven.

She leaped off the sofa and nearly b.u.mped into him. "Have you lost your wits?"

"Hush and listen. It's the perfect solution."

"No, it is insane." She'd thought he had better sense, but apparently she'd been mistaken.

"Angeline, we would both benefit."

He was outrageous. "I'm not marrying you so you can claim Sommerall."

"You said if you married a wealthy and t.i.tled gentleman, all of your troubles would disappear. I am the Earl of Ravenshire. Granted it's a courtesy t.i.tle, but it's hardly objectionable."

"Are you feverish?"