Page 30 of The Lady of the Lamps (Vows in Vauxhall Gardens #1)
L ord Haxbury had not appeared at dawn, and although that hour was well past, Spencer could not move from the bench, the pistol in his shaking hands.
He had called for the duel. And he was fairly sure he would have seen it through, even with the images of the battlefield filling his head.
But now he could not escape the past.
The arrival of Lady Beatrix made no sense, but his mind would not work well enough for him to ask her why she was there. Perhaps she knew of the duel, and was there to beg for her betrothed’s life.
But the man did not deserve her.
“Please put the pistol down, Lord Leighton,” she said, gently placing her hands upon his, not seeming to care that they were in a public place. Her voice sounded scared, and it cut through the haze, giving him the strength to push the pistol to one side.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“What are you doing here?” he responded, not wanting to admit to the duel without knowing what she knew.
“I need your help,” she said, and her blue eyes were wide and desperate. “You said if I needed anything…and I do. I went to your house, and they said you were here. They were worried…”
Spencer nodded and glanced up at the sun. It was surely approaching midday, and he had left well before dawn. No wonder the staff were worried.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, finally gaining some control over his senses. “Of course, I will help, if I can…”
Tears filled her eyes, and he wanted to hold her, but he could not. Instead he contented himself with the fact that her hands were still atop his. “I cannot marry him,” she whispered.
“Haxbury?”
She nodded. “He is not…the man I thought he was. I cannot tie myself to him for the rest of my days.”
He was not good enough for her, that was true—but Spencer had no idea what he could do to help her.
Their betrothal had been publicly announced; to break it off would cause scandal.
And although he thought she could live with that, the reason she had said yes to the marriage in the first place was surely for the financial stability.
She had said no to any money Spencer had offered her—and he could not offer her enough to set her up for the rest of her life, anyway.
“Please, help me,” she begged.
His heart ached to hear her pain, but he had no answers. “I’ve tried, and I’ve failed,” he said miserably. “I do not know what—”
“Please, I have no one else to turn to. I must get out of that house. I think…” She bit her bottom lip, as though unsure whether she could say the words in her head. “I thought he was a good man. But I do not think he is. I’m scared to stay there.”
And hearing the fear in her voice, Spencer thought he would have done anything to make her feel safe. She deserved a life where she felt secure and happy.
“There must be some way,” she said, tears beginning to fall. “Something I can do. I refuse to believe this is my only option in life.”
“Well…there is only one easy way out of this. You could marry someone else, quickly. It would be scandalous, but you could weather that storm. You’re of age, you don’t need his permission…and once you were wed, he couldn’t touch you.”
She squeezed his hands, and the hope in her eyes made him realize what she was thinking when he spoke those words. It was truly the only answer he could think of to her predicament—but that didn’t mean it could be him.
That wasn’t what he meant.
“Lady Beatrix…”
She shook her head. “Just Beatrix. Please…”
“Beatrix,” he said, swallowing, the air thick with longing and desire and misery. “I’m sure you can find a man—”
“I am unwed at the age of twenty-five, despite having a good name and a moderate dowry,” she said with a sigh. “I don’t believe I can find a man to wed. And in truth, there is only one I want to marry.”
His heart felt like it had stopped beating. She couldn’t be saying these things. He had known there was a spark between them, but he had thought it was mostly in his own mind. That she wanted to marry Haxbury. That she would never consider…
But no. That was not the reason he had not pursued her. He had not feared rejection; he had known he wasn’t good enough.
“It cannot be me, Beatrix,” he said, his voice unsteady. “I am a broken man, and you deserve so much more.”
“But I don’t want more. I want you, Lord Leighton.”
Desire flooded his body at her words, and yet still he held back. Moments ago he had been sat shaking with a gun, relieving his worst nightmares on the battlefield in his mind. At night he did so with alarming regularity, waking the household by crying out.
He was not fit to be her husband.
But he didn’t say any of that. Instead he said, “Spencer.”
Her eyes reflected acknowledgment and perhaps, he imagined, pleasure at being given permission to use his Christian name. “I know you think you are broken. But I will help you heal. We can be happy together, Spencer. I am sure of it.”
The pleasure he felt upon hearing her say his name was unexpected, and her sentiment made Spencer felt as though he could breathe again.
And even though he could not see how he could possibly deserve the happiness that she was offering, he was not going to let this woman fall into the clutches of a man like Lord Haxbury.
If she was willing to help him heal, he was more than willing to save her from the monster who wished to claim her.
She pulled up the sleeve of her dress, showing an angry-looking bruise on her forearm that sent fury through his body. “This is my future, if I cannot leave that man .”
He wanted to hunt Haxbury down for daring to lay a hand on her, but right now was not the time. Instead he asked, “You’re sure?”, giving her one final chance to turn away from him, to find someone else.
But she just smiled, her blue eyes twinkling, the tears no longer rolling down her cheeks and said, “I’ve been sure ever since that night under the lamps in Vauxhall Gardens.”
Without caring that she was still betrothed to another man, or that it was broad daylight, or that they were in a public place, Spencer pulled her close and pressed his lips to hers, his heart bursting with joy.