It was a mark of Roderick’s fatigue that he did not object to his nephew’s assessment of his nocturnal activities, merely shrugged.
“But I did not come here to offer my opinion on your dissolution,” Alec said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I came because I want you to tell me what role you played in the dismissal of Miss Anna Turner from Viscount Shelby’s household.”
“What makes you think I had anything to do with that?” Roderick asked, his expression shuttered.
“Oh, come now,” Alec said impatiently, “I realize that the rumor mill is often wrong, but in this case, I know there was more fire than smoke. You were an intimate of Lord Shelby at the time, and I know your penchant for seducing innocents. You are distressingly like my father in that.”
“I was hardly the only friend of Shelby’s with an eye for the tasty Miss Turner, nephew,” Roderick said. At Alec’s harsh stare, he shrugged and threw up his hands. “But if you must know the truth of it, I never touched the chit.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Alec said. “What stopped you?”
Embarrassment crossed the older man’s face. “If you must know, she did. Or rather, some other chap did. I sneaked up to her rooms to … ah … press my suit, and someone was there before me.”
Alec unfolded his arms and leaned forward. “Did you see who it was?”
“Of course not!” Roderick actually looked offended. “As soon as I heard the unmistakable sounds of shagging I left.”
At least his uncle had some standards, Alec thought grimly.
“Surely you had some guess as to who it might be,” he pressed. If his uncle weren’t Baby Alice’s father, then whoever was might be responsible for the music teacher’s disappearance.
But Roderick shook his head. “I went back to the billiard room and every other man at the house party, with the exception of the servants and secretaries of course, was there. If the man I heard was one of the guests, he was damned quick about it.”
Alec bit back a curse. He had hoped that his uncle would give him some information that would lead to Mrs. Turner’s whereabouts. But as so often happened with the man, he had only added to Alec’s frustrations.
Pushing back from the table, Alec rose. “Thank you for the information,” he said grudgingly.
“Not as if I have any use for it,” the older man said. “I presume you’re helping the Shelby chit in her search for the Turner woman.”
At Alec’s nod, his uncle tilted his head and said with more sincerity than he’d offered in some years, “Watch out for that one, nephew. She won’t settle for less than a happy marriage. And the men in our family are simply not made for happiness.”
Alec didn’t bother informing Roderick that he was safe from Miss Shelby given the arrangement her mother had already made for her with Turlington. Even so, the warning echoed behind him as he took his leave.
* * *
“What an appalling situation.” Cecily shook her head, concern shadowing her dark eyes. “I had no notion you were dealing with all of this, darling. You should have told us.”
“I know you have your own worries, what with your father and Winterson being so overprotective these days. But since it appears that Anna is not simply away for a brief jaunt, I decided I had to tell someone. Aside from Deveril, that is.”
Juliet had arrived at Winterson House early that morning to request her cousin’s company. She could hardly go to Deveril’s town house unchaperoned. And Cecily was very interested in babies now that she was expecting one of her own.
They were now comfortably ensconced in the well-sprung Winterson town carriage for the painfully short drive through Mayfair from Winterson House to Deveril House.
“Yes,” Cecily said, her mouth pursed. “I have been waiting for you to tell me about this new association between yourself and Lord Deveril. He was positively ready to challenge your mama to a duel at our little dance party.”
Juliet felt herself redden, an unfortunate consequence of her fair complexion and red hair. “You exaggerate, surely. He is simply a friend. And when he came upon me that evening when he suggested the party, he found me reading the note from Anna. I’m afraid I blurted out my worries and he had no choice but to assist me.”
“I wonder if you are correct about that.” Cecily snorted. “I cannot imagine Lord Turlington would offer his assistance so readily.”
It was Juliet’s turn to snort. “That is because he sees Anna and other women like her as entirely beneath his notice. He expends more concern for the care and upkeep of his art collection.” She shook her head in disgust before returning to Cecily’s original concern. “There is nothing between myself and Lord Deveril but friendship, and a very slight one at that. He is far too eligible for the likes of me.”
“I will not even dignify your last statement with a response,” Cecily said with a chiding glance. “As for friendship, there are far less stable foundations upon which to build a marriage.”
Alarm coursed through Juliet. “Cecily, you must stop this at once. Lord Deveril is a friend and that is all. Besides which, Mama is determined to marry me to Turlington. So, it is fruitless to speak of my marriage to anyone else.” And, she did not add, she would be mortified if Deveril suspected any hint of partiality for him on her part. Not only was he far above her touch, he did not know the whole story of what had happened to her in Vienna.
Cecily looked as if she’d like to argue, but said simply, “I think you are wrong, but I won’t mention the matter again. At least not until you’re ready to talk sense. As for Lord Turlington, I think your mama should be horsewhipped for even considering Turlington for your hand. And I hold out every hope that we can find someone—even if he is not Lord Deveril—to save you from that terrible fate.”
Reaching out her gloved hand, Juliet took Cecily’s and squeezed it. “Thank you,” she said. “I would, of course, not be opposed to finding someone besides Turlington to take me from my parents’ care. If Papa were more willing to involve himself in matters not having to do with diplomacy, perhaps it would be tolerable, but as things stand now, I am at her mercy.”
“I have an idea of how to combat the situation, if you’ll let me,” Cecily said with a smile. “It involves a trip to Madame Celeste’s”
Though shopping was not her favorite pastime, Juliet could see the wisdom in ensuring she looked her best if she were going to attract someone besides Turlington.
“I don’t know that Mama will be amenable to such a plan, however,” she said aloud. “I might be able to convince her it is for Lord Turlington’s benefit, though.”
“I will do my best to convince her of the same,” Cecily said. “Though she does not care for me in general, I think she is unable to stop herself from toadying now that I outrank her. I shall use my rank against her.”
At last, the coach drew to a halt, and in a few moments, Juliet and Cecily were being admitted by a very proper-looking butler, who informed them that his master had left instructions for them to be admitted to the nursery.
“I will inform his lordship that you are here,” he said, showing them into an elegant front parlor, decorated in a style from a generation before. But rather than dated, the room seemed comfortable, homey, in a way that her parents’ town house, decorated and redecorated whenever the mood struck her mother, was not.
“Please do not disturb his lordship,” she protested as the butler made to leave them. “I am sure he is quite busy.” After her assurances to Cecily that there was nothing between herself and Deveril but friendship, she did not wish to expose herself to her cousin’s scrutiny lest she betraty in some unconscious way her admiration for the man. Which Cecily would misinterpret as romantic attachment.
“His lordship specifically requested that he be informed if you were to come visit the child, miss,” the butler said. With that, he was gone.
“I hardly think it odd that your friend would wish to see you when you come to visit,” Cecily said guilelessly. “After all, tha
t is what friends do.”
“Sometimes, Cecily,” Juliet said crossly, “you are too cunning by half.”
Her cousin laughed. “That is just what Winterson says. If it is any consolation, he also says that I am a pain in the—”
“Good morning, ladies,” Deveril interrupted, stepping into the little parlor and immediately filling the room with his presence. “I am so glad you decided to come see our young visitor.”
“We do not mean to intrude,” Juliet said quickly. “I am quite sure you are busy. If you’ll just direct us to the nursery we can go find Alice ourselves.”
Rather than clutching the lifeline she’d just tossed him, Lord Deveril waved away her suggestion. “Nonsense, I could use a break from the tedium of estate business. I will take you upstairs myself.”
Studiously avoiding her cousin’s eye, Juliet allowed him to usher them into the main hallway and up the stairs to the third-floor nursery.
Facing the back garden, the rooms were quite large and airy, the windows situated to capture as much of the meager sunlight as London would allow.
The nurse Alec had arranged for the child, Mrs. Pennyfeather, greeted them with a curtsy, though all eyes were on her charge.
In a clean and serviceable dress, little Alice clapped her hands with glee to see her visitors. Seated atop a rocking horse, she raised her arms in the universal baby gesture that said “pick me up!” and kicked the horse into motion as she pressed her arms up.
“Good morning to you too, Miss Alice,” Deveril said, lifting her from the horse, and carrying her over to meet her visitors. He dismissed the maid as he walked forward.
“I’m afraid she’s taken a bit of a liking to me,” he told Juliet and Cecily, gesturing for them to take seats on the small settee situated on the other side of the room. “She was less than happy where her mother left her, and sees me as a sort of liberator from there.”
Bemused to see the fashionable Lord Deveril allowing his cravat to be ruthlessly wrinkled by the child in his arms, Juliet wished suddenly that he were not quite so perfect. Surely it was too much to ask that he was unkind to animals or made a habit of tripping old women. The notion was just as absurd as Cecily’s earlier hopes that Juliet could catch the man’s eye. He was simply a decent gentleman. But he wasn’t the only decent gentleman in the world. She’d find another if she could.
“I don’t blame her a bit,” Cecily said with a smile. “All the smart girls recognize a handsome gentleman when they see one.”
Juliet studiously avoided the speaking glance her cousin gave her. “She seems quite happy here. I am relieved to know Anna’s child is being well taken care of.”
“Of course, Miss Shelby,” he said, disengaging the baby’s hand from his ear. “As I said before, I am glad to be of any assistance I can. She is welcome to stay here as long as she wishes. My sisters are already making mad plans for the child’s come-out ball and have married her off to a German princeling in their minds. Though I believe Katherine would prefer a royal duke for her.”
“Perish the thought,” Juliet said with a laugh. “I shouldn’t wish a royal duke on my worst enemy. Though I suppose the status would be nice.”
“As I told them too,” Deveril said with a grin. Then, his expression turning serious, and he said soberly, “She is welcome here, Miss Shelby. And I will do whatever I can to assist you to find her mother.”
“I appreciate your assistance,” Juliet said. “More than you can know. I cannot think what has happened to Anna, but I intend to find out. In fact, I plan to visit her musical mentor this afternoon. I simply wished to check in on Alice before I did so.”
At the mention of Anna’s mentor, Deveril’s gaze sharpened. “Is the fellow in a location where it would be safe for you to visit him? I hope you plan to take the duchess with you. If not, I would be happy to—”
Juliet and Cecily spoke at once.
“There’s no need—”
“Oh, that would be perfect!”
The cousins turned to look at one another, silently arguing the point. Which Cecily won.
“That would be lovely of you, Lord Deveril,” she said after cowing Juliet’s protest with a speaking look composed primarily of raised eyebrows and determined eyes. “I must admit that I’m not feeling quite the thing. Though I had promised Juliet to accompany her to this musician fellow’s establishment, and I do so hate disappointing her.”
“Not as much as I hate being disappointed,” Juliet said under her breath.
Aloud she said, “I would greatly appreciate your escort, my lord. But please, if you have another engagement do not hesitate to tell me so. I can take a maid with me, if necessary.”
“Not a bit of it, Miss Shelby,” he said. “I would be honored to escort you. I have a fondness for music myself so it will be an entertainment for me to come with you.”
The matter settled, they lapsed into the stilted conversation of adults watching a baby as a means of entertainment. Some quarter of an hour later, Juliet and Cecily bid their farewells, and Deveril promised to call upon Juliet that afternoon at her father’s house.
“Perhaps it would be best for us to meet at Winterson House,” Juliet said quickly. She did not want her mother to assume she was setting her cap for Deveril, after all.
“Very well, Miss Shelby,” he said, “I shall see you this afternoon.”
“There now,” Cecily said, once they were safely back in the Winterson carriage. “That wasn’t so difficult, was it?”
“What?” Juliet demanded. “Cornering Lord Deveril into accompanying me on a visit you’d already promised to do yourself?”
“Oh, don’t be a spoilsport, Juliet,” her cousin replied. “It’s as plain as the nose on your face that he wishes to assist you in this matter. Whether it’s because he has a tendre for you—which is what I suspect—or it’s because he has some other reason for wishing to find Mrs. Turner, it doesn’t matter. It can do you no harm to spend time in the company of a handsome gentleman. If nothing else he will be an excellent practice-gentleman for you.”
“What on earth is a practice-gentleman?” Juliet asked, curious despite her annoyance.
“A practice-gentleman is one upon whom one tests one’s flirtation skills while waiting for the permanent-gentleman to come along.”
“Have you been listening in on Amelia Snowe’s conversations with Lady Felicia again?”
“You might laugh now, miss,” Cecily said with an arch look, “but you won’t be so glib when you are working your wiles on your permanent-gentleman and luring him into matrimony.”
But Juliet was very much afraid that if her mother had her way, there would be no flirtation, practice or otherwise. And certainly not with Lord Deveril.
* * *
Deveril called for Juliet at Winterson House that afternoon at two o’clock. Juliet had changed into a serviceable wool gown, though her pelisse was a deep green color that flattered her coloring. He longed to see her dressed in such flattering colors more often. Despite her infirmity he had a suspicion that her position at the fringes of the ton could easily be circumvented if she were properly outfitted in a manner befitting her social standing.
“Good afternoon, Miss Shelby,” he said with a slight bow. “Shall we depart?”
“Of course,” she responded with a smile. “Thank you again for agreeing to accompany me to Signor Boccardo’s studio. I cannot tell you how much it will relieve my mind if he has news of Anna.”
Once the formalities were out of the way, Alec offered Juliet his elbow and made to lead her down the front steps of Winterson House.
She stared at his arm for a moment, as if she were unfamiliar with such simple gestures. Still, she slipped her arm through his and allowed him to assist her without comment. It was such a simple courtesy, and yet Alec had the feeling that Juliet had become accustomed to fending for herself in such matters.
Her arm, where it held his, was strong, and he was pleased to note that she trusted him to ensure her
safety. And, he noted to himself with a wry smile, he was behaving like a damned halfling. No doubt Juliet received every sort of courtesy and he was imagining himself into a white knight role out of simple vanity. Still, he didn’t imagine her shiver when he lifted her into the curricle. So perhaps she felt the frisson of attraction between them as well.
Even so, he made sure to keep an inch or so between them on the seat of his equipage—no mean feat in such a sporty vehicle.
“What do you know of Signor Boccardo?” he asked once they were under way. “I believe you said he was Mrs. Turner’s musical mentor?”
“Yes,” she replied, watching avidly as they passed through the familiar streets of Mayfair. “He was engaged to teach music to the local squire’s children in the village where Anna grew up. Her father was the local vicar and she was allowed to take lessons along with the squire’s children.”
“And she turned out to be more talented than the squire’s children?” he guessed, steering his horses within an inch of a passing cart.
“Indeed,” Juliet responded, reaching up to hold on to her bonnet as a breeze tried to catch it. “I’m afraid the squire’s children weren’t very nice about it either. Though I suppose they were jealous of her talent as well. Still, when Anna’s father died unexpectedly, Signor Boccardo and the squire were quite helpful in securing a position for Anna with a family in the county as their music instructor.”
They fell silent for a moment, and Alec had the distinct impression that Miss Shelby was gathering the courage to ask him something. When she cleared her throat, he knew he was correct.
“My lord,” she said tentatively, “I do not wish to pry into your private business. But there is something I need to ask you. Of course, if you do not wish to answer you are perfectly at liberty to tell me so. And I do not like to—”
“Miss Shelby,” Alec said, cutting short her preemptive apologies. “You are perfectly welcome to ask me anything.”
How to Romance a Rake Page 7
