The Virgin in the Rake’s Bed by Ava MacAdams

Chapter Three

“Catherine, that is quite preposterous. You cannot possibly entertain such a thought to ruin yourself!” Rebecca said, looking at Samantha in astonishment.

“And why ever not? Is it so unreasonable to want to prevent a marriage? If you can think of a better way, then I would like to hear it,” Catherine replied, tossing back her hair and fixing her two friends with a defiant stare.

“But to do such a thing is… well, it is scandalous,” Samantha said, and Catherine groaned.

“Yes, scandalous… says the woman who stowed away on a ship bound for the Caribbean, found herself at the mercy of a pirate whom she then broke out of prison and married. Do not talk to me about scandal, Samantha,” Catherine replied, and Samantha fell silent.

“But to so blatantly disgrace yourself for the sake of a betrothal, Catherine. It is your reputation that we are thinking of,” Rebecca replied, but Catherine shook her head.

I have already made up my mind, and there is nothing you can do to prevent me. I have even chosen the object of my intentions,” she said, glancing across the room to where a tall and handsome gentleman stood conversing with a group of young ladies.

“It is the only way. He is a rake, I can tell, and I have made some discreet enquiries. His name is Hamilton Asquith, the third son of the Earl of Berkley, and by all accounts, a man easily led into scandal. It will be no trouble to find myself in a compromising situation with him and thus the engagement will be immediately called off,” Catherine replied, as Rebecca and Samantha looked worriedly at one another.

The plan had seemed simple enough to Catherine, who had thought it a stroke of genius when it had occurred to her the previous day. If she could not dissuade her father from announcing her betrothal to a man she had no desire to marry, then making herself as unattractive a proposition as possible was the only thing to do. She was naturally pretty and had no desire to cause temporary disfigurement by cutting off her hair or adopting an injury. Besides, such a thing would only be a short-lived solution. Instead, Catherine had resolved to create a scandal, one which the whole ton would soon be talking about and which would ensure that any potential husband would soon find himself aware of, thus securing her future as a spinster for many years to come.

“And you intend to seduce him in front of the whole ton?” Rebecca hissed, causing Catherine to laugh.

“Is it really any more ridiculous than dressing Samantha as a clergyman to break a pirate out of prison?” she asked, and her two friends were forced to admit that Catherine’s plans were always somewhat of an extreme.

“But your reputation, Catherine? When I and Norman were first together, I knew that in the end respectability would come. But you are about to blot your copybook forever. There can be no going back,” Samantha said, glancing nervously across the room to where the unwitting Hamilton Asquith was now helping himself from the punch bowl.

“I know exactly what I am doing,” Catherine said, annoyed that her friends could not see the sense in what she was doing.

There could be no other choice than this. The grandfather clock ticking ever closer to that fateful hour when Catherine’s father would make his announcement and her destiny would be sealed. It would require a miracle for her father to change his mind, and not being in the habit of working miracles, Catherine had but one choice left to her – to ensure her own destiny, because no one else would ensure it for her.

“And how will you seduce him? Will you walk boldly up to him and announce your intentions?” Rebecca asked.

“No, of course not. I will merely show him my intentions. He is bound to take the air, shortly, or slip out for some reason or another. I shall follow him and then speak with him. A man like that can hardly resist. I have watched him all evening, and he has made royal progress about the room, no doubt searching for his chance. Well, I am about to provide it,” she said, rising from her place, with an air of determination about her.

“Oh, Catherine, please think about what you are doing,” Samantha implored her, clutching at her hand, but Catherine shook it off dismissively, determined to see her plan followed through.

“I have decided, and you will not stop me,” she said, and before either of them could say anything further, she had pushed her way through the throng, following Hamilton Asquith, who had just excused himself from the company.

* * *

Ian was watching Rickard with bemusement. He had made attempts to speak to several women, some far beyond his possibility and some quite below it. Those who knew their own superiority had swiftly rebuffed him, whilst those who fell far short of anyone’s mark had embraced the attention with all the vigor which Ian had warned against.

Thus, Rickard now found himself dancing with a woman whom Ian knew would be trouble. She had appeared flattered at the attention and was now gazing into Rickard’s eyes with the expression of a woman who believes she has secured her man. Ian was far more tactful and had kept his own rules foremost in mind when talking to the women present that evening.

Some had presented a slight distraction and attraction, even for him to exchange a few polite words, even a compliment in exchange for their own toward him and thus, unlike his friend, Ian had made a progress through the room which did not result in any form of commitment – not even a dance. Now, as the music began, he found the atmosphere growing hot and stuffy, and desiring to take some air, he excused himself and stepped out onto the terrace. It was early spring, and twilight had fallen, the gardens of the Somerset residence heavy with the scent of fresh growth and blossom.

“Did it get too much for you, too?” a voice behind him enquired, and Ian turned to find Nicholas Lowood – the Marquess of Somerset - stepping out from the ballroom.

The two were casual acquaintances, on friendly enough terms, and had had some business dealings together.

“I cannot abide all the preening and ceremony. The way they all dance around one another. It is quite obscene,” Ian replied, gesturing over his shoulder toward the ballroom.

“I could not agree more, how thankful I am that such things are behind me. To think that I was once like that, myself,” Nicholas replied, shaking his head, and coming to join Ian leaning on the parapet of the terrace, looking out over the garden.

The two men stood in silence for a moment.

“Perhaps it is the lot of every young man,” Ian replied, and Nicholas laughed.

“You are only twenty-eight years old. We are about the same age, do you not think about marriage sometimes?” he asked, and Ian shook his head.,” he said,

“I have no desire for it, none whatsoever,” he said, and Nicholas smiled.

“You do not want to settle down?” he asked, and Ian shook his head.

Nicholas was happily married to Rebecca. They had a child together – a son, and a bright future ahead of them. Fate had been kind to Nicholas.

“Not after what happened to me,” Ian replied, and Nicholas nodded for the betrayal of Cassandra was common enough knowledge.

“They are not all so bad, I can assure you. Take Rebecca, for example. She is the loveliest of women,” he said.

“Which is why she is married to you, I am sure. I hold no animosity toward those who find themselves in such a happy state. But I myself will avoid it. I do not think I shall return to the throng just yet. Might I trouble you to smoke in the library. If it is convenient, of course?” he asked, and Nicholas nodded.

“By all means, my friend, slip in through the side door along the terrace. I had a fire kindled there earlier on and you may avail yourself of any of my volumes. Hide yourself away there for as long as you wish. There will be no women to disturb you. They are all too busy securing themselves a dance partner,” he said, laughing and slapping Ian heartily on the shoulder.

* * *

Catherine was trying to avoid her father’s eye. Hamilton Asquith had disappeared from view behind one of the marble columns, which flanked the opposite side of the ballroom from the terrace. She made her way through the throng, purposefully looking forward so that her father could not attract her attention – it would not do to have the proposal announced before her indiscretion could become known.

The scandal must be created beforehand, for only then could the Earl of Westwood be dissuaded from his intentions. It had not occurred to Catherine that her actions might seem cruel to the casual observer, for she was thinking only of herself, rather than the earl, whose lecherous nature disgusted her. She could not help but dislike him, and found little to commend him, though it could not be said he was not generous in showering her with gifts. She felt like a commodity in his eyes, and the way he treated her made her feel already like his property

“Are you not dancing, Catherine?” a voice behind her enquired, and she turned to find herself face to face with her brother Rickard, who appeared to be making a circuit of the room in order to secure himself a partner.

“I… oh, well, no, not yet,” she said, edging away, lest Rickard should sense something of what she intended.

“You, Rebecca, and Samantha were deep in conversation just now,” he said, his voice questioning in tone.

“They are my closest friends. Is it not understandable that I should speak with them?” she asked, and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Father will make the announcement soon,” he said, a smile coming over his face.

Catherine rolled her eyes. Her father wanted her to marry in order to secure his place amongst the aristocratic ranks. That ambition was shared by her brother, who made no secret of the fact that he believed aristocratic connections were good for business, not to mention his own romantic prospects. “I am sure he will,” she replied, still edging backward toward the pillar.

“And then the whole ton shall know of what is planned with the Earl of Westwood,” he said, as though the thought had not crossed her mind.

“I must take the air,” she said, and he nodded, turning to survey the scene behind him.

“And I must secure a partner for the next dance. When they hear the announcement, they are bound to think better of me,” he said, disappearing off into the throng.

Catherine breathed a sigh of relief. She had wasted precious time talking to her brother, and now she could not be sure where Hamilton Asquith might be. She stepped out into the hallway, which was deserted, and looked from left to right. The Somerset residence was a large, sprawling manor house, with wings both east and west, centered on a grand entrance hall with black and white marbled floor and a staircase that led up to a gallery above. There was no one else about, not even a servant, and she closed the door of the ballroom behind her, the sounds of the music now muffled.

Taking a deep breath, Catherine wondered for a moment if she was doing the right thing. She had always been impulsive, and usually her plans came to fruition. But despite not willing to admit it, Rebecca and Samantha had been right to voice their concerns. What she was doing was reckless, and there could be no going back on it. “Once a scandal, always a scandal” – that was what her mother used to say, and Catherine knew that the memory of the ton was long and a scandal such as she was contemplating could not be undone.

But if the price of her happiness was idle gossip – gossip which would soon replace itself when some new titivation came along– then she was willing to pay the price. Catherine had no care for her reputation amongst men, for she had no desire to attract one, not to marriage, at least, and so ruining that reputation was merely academic, and with this in mind, she turned along the corridor and headed toward the library, imagining that perhaps Hamilton Asquith had taken refuge there.

Outside the door, she paused, wondering what she might say or do to ensure his attentions. Despite her boldness, she was not used to behaving in such a way and she was angry with herself at finding her hands trembling, her heart beating fast in her chest. She steadied herself, determined not to let her nerves get the better of her, loosening her gown a little, and pulling at her bodice to reveal just a little more of her shoulder than was acceptable in polite company.

“Come along, Catherine, be bold,” she whispered to herself, reminded of the many times she had persuaded her friends to be so themselves.

She listened for a moment at the library door, straining her ears to hear any movements coming from inside, imagining that she could hear footsteps and the opening of a door. A noise from the hallway caused her to startle, and she looked up to find one of the servants carrying a large tray of glasses into the ballroom. He did not notice her. And with a deep breath, Catherine opened the library door and stepped inside.

It was late in the evening now, and darkness had almost fallen. A fire was kindled in the library hearth and candles flickered around the room, casting shadows on the bookcases which stretched from floor to ceiling. Catherine squinted to see, making out a figure with his back turned to her, and imagining it to be Hamilton Asquith, she stepped forward and cleared her throat, the figure’s head bowed over a book, and evidently not having noticed her enter the room.

In her mind, Hamilton would turn and smile at her, noticing at once her allure and the exposure of her shoulder. He would step forward and a few words would be exchanged as she fluttered her eyelids and did everything in her power to draw him in and make him think her irresistible. Men were fickle like that, and some men more so than others. It would take little to force his hand, and one thing would lead to another. She imagined the two of them being caught in the throes of passion, the horror which would ensue at their discovery and her father’s face when he discovered what had happened.

“Catherine,” the figure said, turning to her, and causing her to startle.

It was not Hamilton Asquith who stood before her, but Ian Bennet, her brother’s friend, though a man she knew only in passing. Catherine felt the color drain from her cheeks, and she tried to pull up her dress, though in doing so it somehow slipped further down her shoulder and she was almost exposed, her embarrassment growing, as she tried to explain herself.

“I was… I thought… I pictured someone else here,” she said, and he stepped forward, a smile playing across his face.

“You mean I have interrupted a secret liaison?” he asked, and she shook her head.

“On my behalf, perhaps, but not on a gentleman’s,” she said, no longer trying to cover herself, but standing meekly before him, wishing that the floor would open and swallow her up.

How she wished she had listened to Rebecca and Samantha and not forged ahead with this foolish plan which had now ended in disaster. Ian was a handsome man, a respectable one, too, and had long been a friend to her brother. He would be horrified when Ian told him what he had seen – though perhaps that in itself would be enough to tarnish her reputation.

“So, you came here hoping to seduce whoever was in here, did you? And am I not of suitable quality to be seduced?” he asked, fixing her with a searching gaze, his eyes resting on the bare flesh of her shoulder.

“No… I mean… yes, you are, but…” she began, and he laughed, beckoning her to the fireside, for there was a chill in the air.

“What is all this about? Are you not betrothed to the Earl of Westwood? Your brother told me all about it this evening,” he said, smiling at her, and Catherine sighed.

“That is why I came here,” she replied, and she proceeded to tell him about her plan to seduce Hamilton Asquith and make it seem that she was beyond redemption and a scandalmonger whom no man could trust – least of all the Earl of Westwood.

When she had finished her explanation, he was silent for a moment, and she felt for all the world as though he was about to reign down a terrible judgement on her, condemning her for her waywardness. But instead, he sighed and shook his head.

“This is madness, my Lady. You cannot possibly tarnish your reputation for the sake of preventing such a marriage. Tell your father you have no intention of marrying the Earl of Westwood. He is so old that I doubt there would be any hope of consummation, anyway. The marriage would be null and void,” Ian said, causing Catherine to blush even further at the mention of the consummative act.

“I have made up my mind, or rather, I had made up my mind,” she said, turning her face away from him.

“And I have spoiled it, I suppose. What do you intend to do now?” he asked, and she shrugged her shoulders.

“Well, there is still time to find Hamilton Asquith. I should have looked in the drawing room first, or waited in the hallway for him to return. It was foolish to think of following him in here. Besides, no one would have caught us here,” she said, but Ian shook his head.

“I cannot allow you to do this, my Lady. You are a good and respectable woman, and to tarnish your reputation in such a way is tantamount to madness. Hamilton Asquith would quite happily have taken advantage of you, but that is not the point. He is a rake and a rogue and I would never trust him with anyone, least of all a woman like you,” Ian replied.

Catherine sighed. This had all been a complete disaster and now there could be no hope of salvaging the situation. Already, her father would be looking for her, a distant clock having just struck the hour of ten. The announcement would soon be made, and Catherine’s fate would be sealed. It was all a terrible mess.

“But what else am I supposed to do? My father will not hear of anything different. He has made his mind up and I am to be the unfortunate victim of an arranged marriage, just like so many of those poor women out there who know no better,” she said, sighing and sinking down into a chair by the fire.

“It need not be that way. Surely your father could change his mind or be persuaded to do so. It is not all so awful, is it?” he asked, and she nodded.

“It feels so to me. I have no desire to be married. I enjoy my life as a spinster and wish for nothing more than to continue it. The likes of my friends believe that only marriage can be a path to happiness, but I completely disagree,” she said, and he smiled.

Catherine knew something of Ian’s past from Rickard. How he had been rejected by a woman he was betrothed to, an actress of some sort and his reputation as a man who had no interest in marriage – if anyone might understand her predicament then surely it was Ian Bennet.

“And I am with you there,” he said, a sad look coming over his face.

“Oh, forgive me. I did not mean to cause you distress,” she said, but he waved his hand dismissively.

“You caused me no distress, Catherine, but I still do not believe that ruining your reputation for the sake of a rake like Hamilton Asquith does you any favors,” he replied, and Catherine sighed.

“Then what do you suggest I do to prevent this betrothal from being announced?” she asked, and he pondered for a moment.

“Well, you could always marry me,” he said, smiling at her.