Tags:
Fiction,
Romance,
Historical,
Adult,
Regency,
England,
19th century,
Bachelor,
Victorian,
Britain,
Wishes,
Forever Love,
Single Woman,
Country Estate,
London Society,
Gambling Den,
Ruined Man,
Secret Disgrace,
Secret Wish,
Gambling Mistress,
Heart Risk
there to support the impression he wanted London to have of him.
At some point he was going to have to tell Juliet it was all pretense. All of it. “I’m no legend.”
“Is your current mistress awaiting your return to London?”
“We parted ways before I left for Beetham.”
“You’re still a rake and a gambler,” she muttered.
“Only in London.”
“I don’t understand.”
Tony stopped the cart on the road again. He stared at the reins in his hands, searching for the right words. Words that would tell her the truth without telling her all of it. “What I am about to tell you cannot be repeated.”
“I would never.”
“My reputation in Town is a lie. I made it up to keep up with Society and make certain I could sit at the table with the wealthy men we wanted to invest in our ventures.” He glanced over at Juliet, who gaped at him.
“Mistresses too?”
He cleared his throat. “I paid them to be my mistresses in name only. I never. I haven’t—” He couldn’t finish his sentence. It was a very uncomfortable conversation to have with a lady.
Juliet’s expression was one of shock. “You mean you’re a . . . a virgin?”
He nodded.
She laughed.
“It’s not funny,” he growled.
“Yes, it is.” She giggled. “That was the last thing I expected you to tell me, Tony.”
She held her stomach while she laughed some more. “Deuces, Juliet, what did you think I was going to tell you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe that you’d gambled away your income. Or ruined some other gentleman at the gaming hells. Not that I think you would. You have too much honor for that.” She patted his hand.
Juliet was too close to the truth to suit him. She thought he was honorable. The weight of his lies bore down on him. Tony was beginning to regret ever opening his mouth and spilling part of his secret.
“Besides, didn’t my father do that to your father?”
The sick feeling intensified. There was nothing he could say that wouldn’t make it worse. She didn’t care if he was a fake rake, but she would care that he’d ruined a man and took his estate. He started the cart toward the Lodge.
Only he would fall for the one woman who didn’t care if he had mistresses but cared that he was a gambler. He could see her point, given what her brother had put her family through.
He couldn’t disclose the truth now. She’d hate him, and Tony wasn’t convinced he could bear it if she hated him.
Chapter Nine
T he next morning, Juliet was still reeling from Tony’s declarations. His intentions were honorable. Would he propose? And if he did, what would she say? His revelations did not necessarily mean he was in love with her. Could she marry him without a declaration of love?
Then there was his admission of never having been with a woman. Juliet understood that women had to prize their virginity but for a man to do so was unheard of. Why had he waited?
Juliet crept down the stairs. She intended to go out the kitchen door in order to avoid Anne. If she could get to the kitchen, she stood a chance of escaping the day’s callers. She hated sitting there listening to the Beetham gossip. They had to be constantly inventing stories. There just wasn’t that much happening in the village to talk about.
“Not so fast, Juliet,” Anne said from the drawing room doorway. “You’re not getting out of calls today. The vicar’s wife, Mrs. Dellwood, is coming.”
“Anne, please, not Mrs. Dullwood.”
A smile twitched on Anne’s lips. “It’s Dellwood.”
“She is the worst gossip, Anne.” The woman had a high-pitched voice to go with her mousy appearance.
“I expect you to be in the drawing room with a smile on your face when she calls,” Anne said. “Why are you always calling at the Williams farm? I’m beginning to think something inappropriate is occurring.”
“If inappropriate means being covered in dirt—she’s usually caked in it when she sneaks back in with Tony,” Sophia said, coming down
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