Her Secret Scandal: A Regency Romance (Secrets in London Book 1)

by Yasmine Nash

  “The grounds are beautiful, no matter the time of year,” the gentleman was saying. “And we have a shrub maze on our property that even I still get lost in from time to time. My sisters will be there, of course, plus a few of my other good friends. What do you say? Shall I write to my cook and tell her to start her preparations?”

  Alexa couldn’t resist getting caught up in the excitement either. It had been nearly a year since she’d come to London and it would be nice to take a break away from the city, if only for a few days. “It sounds delightful,” she said sincerely.

  “Capital!” Sir Neville exclaimed. “Then why wait? We should proceed as soon as it can be arranged.”

  “Absolutely,” the elder of his sisters said. “We shall expect you both as soon as possible.”

  “Why wait?” the younger of Sir Neville’s dull sisters chimed in.

  It was soon settled that Sir Neville and his sisters would ride down tomorrow to begin preparations, and the rest of the party would join them on Friday.

  “By the way,” Mariah added in a whisper as soon as Sir Neville was called over by someone else. “I saw you speaking to that handsome blond gentleman, Charles Camden.”

  “We were just being introduced. Is he a friend of yours?”

  “To be honest, I barely know him,” Mariah responded with wide eyes. “We’ve met once or twice around town, but I’m shocked he actually came. I only invited him on a whim! I’m glad he has come though. He’s a very well-connected gentleman and I think the other guests are impressed. But that’s not what I wanted to tell you!” Mariah said eagerly. “Mr. Camden was looking repeatedly at you while you were over there talking to Charlotte.”

  Alexandra brushed this off. “Don’t be silly, he couldn’t get away from us fast enough. I can’t imagine why he bothered to speak to Charlotte and me at all.”

  “Well, I’ll admit his manners aren’t as fine as Mr. Peters. But he certainly is handsome.” Mariah glanced at Charles again and giggled.

  Considering that her cousin thought Mr. Peters—a man who had once solemnly declared the beet to be the fairest vegetable for human consumption and on another occasion literally bored two gentlemen to sleep—as the emblem of a fine gentleman, Alexandra didn’t think she really needed to take Mariah’s opinion on Charles Camden at all seriously.

  Chapter 17

  As promised, the invitation to Sir Neville’s estate arrived the very next day. It was only 10 miles south of London, which would make a very pleasant morning’s drive. The group was to stay the night on Friday and then return to London on the following day.

  Alexandra and Mariah arose early Friday morning and had a quick breakfast. Mr. Peters, who had also been invited, had offered to drive them down in his carriage. He arrived in front of their residence promptly at 9 o’clock in the morning, pulling up before Mariah had even had time to finish dressing her hair. His arrival threw Mariah into one of her panics, and she insisted Alexandra go down to the drawing room alone to keep Mr. Peters entertained whilst Mariah completed her preparations.

  Very reluctantly, Alexa joined their guest. Very tall, very thin, and very bald although he was not even 30, Mr. Peters was a moderately wealthy friend of Sir Neville. For some reason Alexa could not fathom, her cousin was particularly fond of him. It wasn’t that he was handsome, and his personality left much to be desired, so she could only presume that Mariah had seen some hidden quality in him that remained below the surface.

  She had never bothered to mention this to Mariah, but the aspect that bothered Alexa the most about him was the way he acted as though she weren’t worthy of his notice. Perhaps Mr. Peters would have made more of an effort to be polite to her were she still a woman of fortune, like Mariah. Or perhaps he disliked her for some other reason that had nothing to do with her lack of social standing. Whatever the case, she never liked to be in conversation with him alone if she could help it.

  Mr. Peters looked up eagerly at the sound of her entrance, but when he recognized Alexa, his disappointment was plain to see. She attempted to make stilted conversation with him for five minutes before she gave it up and fell into silence, remaining that way until Mariah was finally ready.

  It was well past 10 in the morning by the time everyone and their luggage was loaded into the carriage and the party could be off. Mr. Peters had packed plenty of warm wool blankets in case the weather had not cooperated, but fortunately the day was fine and sunny—just as Sir Neville had promised. Mr. Peters and Mariah were conversing in low whispers on one side of the coach, so Alexa didn’t feel guilty for turning away from them to stare out the window.

  The crowded streets and noise of London soon gave way to open spaces and silence, apart from the clopping of horse hooves and the conversation of her companions. The distance passed quickly and within two and a half hours, they had arrived at their destination.

  Smithwell Abbey was an imposing-looking piece of gothic architecture, although the façade and the grounds around it had clearly been renovated recently to align them with modern fashions.

  As they had drawn nearer, Mr. Peters took it upon himself to provide commentary about the landscape. “It does not look like much now, but in the spring, that lake is fully jumping with fish. And Sir Neville keeps an orchard of apple trees along there, which you can just make out. Finest fruit you’ll find anywhere. If we’re lucky, old Neville may still have some stored away in the cellars.” Mariah, to whom this was all addressed, oohed and aahed prettily at everything.

  Sir Neville bounded down the steps to meet them the moment their carriage pulled up in front of the abbey.

  “Excellent timing!” He greeted them with a smile. “The others have all just arrived as well. Are you hungry? My sisters have arranged a selection of cold meats and cheeses to tide you over until supper tonight. But perhaps you’ll want to freshen up first?” he added politely. “I could have my housekeeper show you to the rooms you’ll be staying in.”

  “Some food would be lovely. What is it about a journey, no matter the length, that leaves one feeling hungry?” Alexa said with a smile. In fact, she was famished. “And a cup of tea, if possible.” Mariah frowned at Alexandra. Alexa had a feeling her cousin would have preferred to retire to their room first to refresh, but Mariah didn’t contradict her. Perhaps she was hungry as well.

  Sir Neville led them into the entrance hall, a towering cavern of a space with 30-foot ceilings and walls lined with portraits of imposing ancestors. “The others are just over here,” he said, continuing through several winding hallways, and explaining the history of each room as they passed through it.

  After several minutes, they finally came to the room where the food was spread out. “And this parlor was a favorite of my mother’s, so I love to sit in it as often as I can,” Sir Neville, continuing his tour. “See how the windows catch all the sunlight?” The room was indeed quite cozy, with comfortable, plush furniture, airy windows, and colorful watercolors on the walls. A small crowd of seven or eight gentlemen and ladies looked up at their approach.

  Sir Neville stood next to Alexa. “Your cousin is already acquainted with my friends, but I don’t believe you’ve been introduced yet, unless I’m mistaken.”

  “No, I haven’t had the pleasure,” she said breathlessly, hardly knowing what she said. She had just caught a glimpse of something that was making her heart pound in her chest. Alexandra had only a second to compose her features before Sir Neville led her over to the group. They looked at her expectantly.

  Sir Neville was in his element. “Friends, allow me to introduce you to the delightful Miss Alexandra Morland. Miss Morland, you already know my sisters of course.” The two women smiled faintly. “Our cousin, Mrs. Miranda Eastwood, and her husband, Harvey Eastwood.” Mr. Eastwood bowed. “Our neighbors, the Wallaces.” A middle-aged woman and her two teenaged children each said hello. “And finally, my friend Henry Northam.” There was the reason Alexandra’s heart seemed fit to burst out of her chest right now. Henry Northam, here
?

  She had spotted him the moment they’d walked into the room. Henry gave her a tight-lipped nod before turning away to look out the window.

  Alexa made all the responses politeness dictated and attempted to engage in the conversation, but her attention was drawn to Henry. How was it that, after everything, she was so attuned to him that, even without looking, she could sense him positioned away from her?

  She had known Sir Neville would be inviting his own friends, but she hadn’t realized he counted Henry Northam among that number. And if she had known, what would Alexa have done?

  She would have pretended to be ill. Or she would have really become ill. Had she known Henry would be present, Alexa would have done anything to avoid the awkward agony the next 24 hours were sure to hold.

  Mrs. Eastman approached Alexa with her husband. She had very narrow hips coupled with a very large bosom, giving her an unbalanced appearance that looked as though she might topple over at any moment. “Miss Morland, we’ve heard you spoken of so highly,” Mrs. Eastman gushed. “It’s marvelous to finally meet you in person.”

  “Have you?” Alexa smiled uncertainly.

  “Why yes,” Mrs. Eastman said in a stage whisper. “Neville and the girls think so very well of you, you know. Neville did warn us you were one of the prettiest creatures he’s ever laid eyes on, and I must agree you are very pretty. Don’t you think, my dear?” she asked her husband.

  “Yes, very pretty,” he said obligingly.

  “Only,” Mrs. Eastman added to Alexa, “your complexion is so very tan. Almost as though you’ve just come back from a naval ship. Wouldn’t you say, my dear?” She addressed her husband again. “Doesn’t Miss Alexandra Morland look almost as dark as my brother Fitz? And he had spent six months at sea before coming home!”

  “Very tan,” her husband parroted.

  Alexandra was struggling to maintain her placid expression, but it was growing more difficult by the second.

  Mrs. Eastman wasn’t finished. “You are unmarried for now, of course, although if I’m not much mistaken, you won’t remain that way for long.” Mrs. Eastman looked with a smirk toward Sir Neville.

  Alexandra felt a blush rise on her cheeks and tried to correct the other woman. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but you’re mistaken. I have no—”

  She was interrupted. “Allow me to give you some friendly advice,” Mrs. Eastman said. “Once you marry, you’d do best to bear your husband a child as soon as you can. Mr. E and I have six of our own,” she said smugly. “Although their education has been very trying on me. We’ve been searching for a governess for ages now, but there simply are no good candidates to be found. Isn’t that right, my dear?”

  “Not a one,” her husband said.

  Mrs. Eastman sighed dramatically. “To make a long story short, if you find a good governess, snatch her up immediately. Best to hire one before you even have children, so you’ll be prepared for when they do come,” she said sagely.

  Alexandra blinked rapidly several times. She felt a little dumbfounded by this barrage of unsolicited information. “I’m much obliged for the advice,” was all she could bring herself to say.

  After the meats had all been picked over and the tea was drunk, Sir Neville declared that it was time to explore the grounds. “Enough lazing about!” he shouted. “You lot didn’t travel all the way from London to stay indoors, did you?”

  No one needed any additional convincing. The party made their way to the private garden outdoors. As the wealthiest woman there and heiress to Peverton Park, Mariah proudly took her place at the front of the group beside Sir Neville. Unmarried and penniless, Alexandra’s spot was in the back, so she waited until the other young ladies and gentlemen had arranged themselves in twos and threes along the walking path in front of her. To her surprise, Henry placed himself by her side, taking a firm grasp on her arm.

  She had barely a moment to understand what was happening before he spoke. Henry’s face looked perfectly composed, but his voice came out in an angry whisper. “Whatever do you mean by sporting with poor Neville’s heart like you are?”

  “Pardon me?” she spluttered in astonishment. “I’m not sporting with anyone.”

  He scoffed. “Just as you didn’t sport with me? I see.”

  “How dare you accuse me of such fickleness?” she hissed. If they weren’t in public right now, she might have slapped him. “Sir Neville is a friend, nothing more. Not that I owe you any such explanation.”

  “Neville is a good man. I don’t want to see him hurt. I would prefer not to disclose our history to him, but if I must, I will, if that’s what it takes to warn him away.”

  She gaped at Henry for a moment. Could he be saying what she thought he was suggesting? For all his anger, Henry wouldn’t expose her illegitimacy, would he? “Tell him what you like,” Alexa said coldly, “but you have no right to share my private details with him. I know I hurt you, but that would be a cruel blow against someone you used to claim to love. Don’t you dare say a word, Henry.” She was furious now.

  The other couples walked on obliviously ahead of them, chatting and laughing merrily with one another as they enjoyed the scenery. Alexa could take in none of the greenery around her. It was fortunate none of the party glanced back to see how the stragglers were doing, for Alexa was certain the expression on her face would give it all away. Henry, on the other hand, had still maintained that stoic façade, but it seemed to crack a little at her last words.

  He shook his head for a moment. “Claimed to love? For god’s sake, try as I might I still—”

  His eyes wandered down to her mouth, resting on her lips for several seconds. Alexandra felt a telltale blush rise to her cheeks at the attention. Despite her frustration with Henry, flashes of the last time they’d kissed passed through her mind, even though it had been months ago. A warm pool of heat gathered in her belly. Her mouth parted slightly.

  Somehow the pair had come to a halt while they were arguing. “But it’s of no matter,” Henry said hoarsely, turning his head away and gazing at the fields on the horizon. They walked on again, neither looking at the other.

  They didn’t speak the rest of the walk, and when the time came to return indoors, Henry left her without a word.

  Chapter 18

  Try as he might, he still…what? The question haunted Alexandra for the rest of the afternoon. Was it possible he still loved her? What if his outburst over Sir Neville was an expression of jealously? Alexandra brushed the foolish thought aside. If Henry Northam loved her still, he had only to say so. After all, she had confessed her heart to him and he was the one who had rejected her, in the end. She knew this, and yet, her mind kept returning to thoughts of him.

  The walking party separated upon returning indoors so everyone could dress for dinner. Mariah and Alexandra were sharing a room for the evening. Since Mariah’s maid had not accompanied them, Alexa was given the task of helping her cousin into her gown and arranging her hair for her. As Alexa did so, she considered how she could ask Mariah what she wanted to know without alerting her cousin to her ulterior motives. It turned out she needn’t have worried about being subtle.

  “You’re familiar with all of Sir Neville’s guests?” she began by asking Mariah carefully. “The Wallaces and the Eastmans—”

  “Nosy, horrible woman,” Mariah interjected. Alexa ignored this comment, although she agreed with it.

  “A—and you’ve met Sir Neville’s friend Mr. Northam as well?” Alexandra hoped her tone was convincingly nonchalant.

  “Oh once or twice,” Mariah said sounding bored. “All he ever wants to do is talk about books and the law. The others say he’s rather charming, and even funny, but I’ve never noticed that.” Mariah perked up a little. “What I do know is Henry Northam is the eldest son and his family is very rich.” Her face fell again almost immediately. “I’ve heard he still wants to become a barrister, of all things. Have you ever heard of such a thing?”

  “What’s so wrong with that?
” Alexa felt her hackles rising. “It’s a respectable profession.” Silly to feel defensive for Henry Northam after all this time.

  Mariah laughed derisively, accidentally spilling hairpins all over the floor as she did so. “He might as well say he wants to become a chimney sweeper. Mr. Peters is much of my same opinion, you know. But then Mr. Peters is a true gentleman. I could never feel the respect for him that I do if Mr. P. practiced a common trade.”

  That was a bit rich, coming from a woman whose father had been a clergyman. True, the law wasn’t quite as respectable a profession, but Alexa didn’t care about any of that. Had her cousin always been this shallow, or had this change come upon Mariah only recently? Alexandra bit her tongue though and said nothing.

  “Oh, would you mind picking up those pins I spilled, cousin?” Mariah went on. “I would do it myself, but I’m still feeling rather faint from that walk we took earlier. Mr. P. had to grab my elbow and steady me, I was so sure I was going to pass over earlier from the exertion!”

  * * *

  Supper was a lively affair, although Mariah and Mrs. Eastman carried most of the conversation between the two of them. Henry was seated on the other side of the table, too far away for Alexandra to be expected to converse with him. She was seated next to Sir Neville, who, as always, proved to make for a very easy conversation partner. In truth, she would have preferred to sit beside one of the other guests. She was getting a little weary of faking smiles at Sir Neville’s solicitousness, especially with Henry there to witness.

  Henry seemed to be in very deep conversation about the law with Mr. Eastman, though once or twice his eyes flickered over to her when Sir Neville said her name. Self-conscious, Alexandra had tried her best to spend most of the meal pretending to be very engrossed in Mrs. Eastman’s detailed descriptions of the different wallpaper she’d placed in each room of her home.

  She experienced a brief respite when the ladies had retired to the drawing room, leaving the men to their brandy and their cigars for an interval. None of the women seemed interested in seeking out Alexandra’s opinion on the topic at hand—the challenges of keeping house for brothers and husbands. The two young Miss Wallaces listened to the conversation in awe.