Ainsley realized she was clenching the handle of her teacup too tightly for fragile porcelain. She set it down. “Dear heavens.”
Eleanor shook her head. “Elizabeth was a cruel and crazed woman, and she resented Cameron for trapping her in marriage. She was a few years older than Cameron, and according to Hart, Cam fell wildly in love with her. I imagine that Cameron being the son of one of the richest men in England, standing to inherit the title if anything happened to Hart, was too tempting for Elizabeth to resist. Her parents did nothing to warn Cameron about her, being happy to be rid of the girl. Elizabeth had thought she’d simply do what she pleased, you see, after she married, with whatever man she pleased, and she did at first. When Cameron insisted that Elizabeth be faithful to him, she grew uncontrollable. It was an unfortunate match from the beginning.”
Ainsley thought about the Cameron she knew—single- minded, stubborn, knowing what he wanted and letting nothing stand in his way. He could laugh, but there was always a bitter tinge to his laughter. Cameron had a reputation for taking up with women here, there, and everywhere, and he’d never fixed on one woman after his wife’s death.
Ainsley had assumed he played the rakehell from boredom, but Eleanor’s explanation told her a different tale. After a wife so awful to him, who’d destroyed whatever trust he had, Cameron would not have rushed eagerly back to the altar. This was Cameron’s view of women then: Grasping and selfish like Phyllida Chase, or cruel and tormenting like Lady Elizabeth Cavendish.
“Poor Cameron,” Ainsley said.
Eleanor smiled as she lifted her teacup. “Do be careful, Ainsley. They entice you, these Mackenzies, first with their wickedness and then with all that is heartbreaking.”
“Why did Cameron not divorce her?” Ainsley asked. “He surely had grounds. Or at least tuck her into a remote house somewhere, away from him and Daniel?”
“Precisely because of Daniel.” Eleanor refilled their cups then dropped five lumps of sugar into her freshened tea. “Elizabeth became with child very soon after they married, which infuriated her. She never wanted to be a mother. She would fly into rages, threaten to harm herself or to try to rid herself of the baby. Cameron didn’t want to let her out of his sight—he was protecting Daniel from her even then. Elizabeth tried to tell Cameron—repeatedly—that Daniel wasn’t his son, claiming any number of men to be his father. The trouble was, you see, any one of them could have been. Elizabeth was most generous with her body.”
Ainsley remembered the look on Cameron’s face when he’d found the letter from his wife’s lover in the hidden drawer. The anger, the disgust, the old pain that hadn’t quite dispersed. He’d kissed Ainsley right after that with a desperation, a need to forget.
“I think I rather hate her,” Ainsley said.
“I’m not much fond of her myself,” Eleanor said decidedly. “Cameron has a big heart, and it didn’t deserve to be broken by someone like Elizabeth.” She looked thoughtful. “Though I’ve come to believe that her need to rush about with other men was a kind of illness. Father read a piece from a scientific journal to me that explained that some people become obsessed with coupling just as others have a mania for gambling or alcohol. They can’t stop themselves. They must lie with someone and experience that . . . ecstasy, let’s call it, or they go a little mad. Father and I decided that perhaps Elizabeth must have been one of those people.”
Ainsley blinked. “Good heavens, Eleanor, your father talked of this with you?”
“Of course. Dear Father has no idea that such things shouldn’t be mentioned in the presence of a young lady. He’s keen on all branches of science and has a wide-open mind, which means he’ll discuss the mating habits of frogs or human beings and not have an inkling that there’s a difference between them. Proprietarily, I mean. Frogs reproduce rather differently from human beings, of course.”
Ainsley couldn’t stop her laugh. Certainly anyone bringing up the mating habits of frogs, let alone human beings, at Patrick’s dinner table would face the horrified silence of Patrick and Rona. Her brother and sister-in-law weren’t unkind people, but they had very stringent ideas about manners and proper topics of conversation.
The laugh ended in a sigh, and Ainsley sat limply in her chair. “What do I do, Eleanor? Cameron goes on about diamonds and hotels in Monte Carlo as though I’ll clap my hands and rush with him to the train.”
Eleanor gave her a sympathetic smile. “Because Cameron is used to women who cross their eyes and fall over when he dangles diamond necklaces in front of them. They don’t want him, they want his money, and he knows it.”
He did know it. Cameron was a generous man, but not a stupid one. He knew exactly why the ladies flocked to him.
“I don’t care about his money,” Ainsley said.
“I understand that, but I wager Cameron hasn’t the faintest idea how to woo a lady without bribing her. None of the Mackenzies do.”
Eleanor spoke with conviction. Hart must have lavished gifts on Eleanor until she couldn’t see, and still, Eleanor had told him to go.
Ainsley let out her breath. “If I refuse Cameron, I know that I will regret it for the rest of my life. But if I go, I’ll ruin myself and disgrace my family.” Again, she did not say. “My brothers would never forgive me.”
“Well, you do not have to advertise that you are running off with him, you know. If you will forgive me for saying so, you are not the most socially prominent young lady in Britain. Go incognito.”