Loving the Wrong Lord

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  Josie shrugged. “Probably.” Then she sighed. “After all you, Lord Phineas Trew, know precisely who I am. Quite possibly, you are the only one in London who does. You should also hate me considering what my father has done to you, but again, oddly enough, you do not. Perhaps that is what makes the difference and why I can speak with you without watching my words so carefully. You already know the worst about me and do not judge me for it.”

  When Phin reached for her hand, Josie hesitated for only a moment before she allowed him to take it. How had he known that was precisely what she had been wishing for only moments ago?

  “Maybe I should, at the very least, dislike you, Lady Josephine Marshwood, but I don’t, nor do I wish to do so. You were as much of a victim of your father as anyone. He beat you, kept you prisoner, and used you as a pawn in his twisted games. None of that was your fault, and you deserve every sympathy.” Phin paused. “I wanted to tell you as much that night at Lady Chillton’s, but…”

  “But everything became too tangled, did it not?” This time it was Josie finishing Phin’s thoughts. “And then? It was simply no longer the right time.”

  “Precisely,” he agreed as a companionable silence fell between them.

  For Josie, this felt like either the ending of something or the beginning. She didn’t want it to be an end. She’d much rather it be a beginning. But that wasn’t possible. Men and women in London society weren’t friends. She might be able to skirt the rules back home or on a magical night unlike any other, but not here, which was a pity. She liked this man very much. Perhaps even more than liked, though she would probably never know how much more.

  “Friends, then?” she asked, though a part of her wished there could be more. Still, they had come to an understanding of sorts, and it was an understanding that she hadn’t even known that she both needed and wanted until this very moment.

  “Friends,” he agreed, though he did not drop her hand. For a moment, she wondered if his thoughts were traveling down the same path as hers. “However…”

  “Yes?” Something inside of Josie caught and held, as if whatever came next might upend her world. What if it did? Worse, what if it didn’t?

  “Though we are friends,” Phin spoke slowly, choosing his words with great care, “it is not as if we can converse as we are now. At least not outside of this room.”

  Josie nodded, and Phin felt something coil up tightly inside of him. He wasn’t even certain what he was about to say. Well, he knew what he wished to say. He wished to tell Josie that he wanted to continue this friendship and see if there was possibly more to it, rules and Society, and the Bloody Duke be damned. However, that wasn’t possible, at least not out in the open. Even if it were socially acceptable for a man and a woman to be friends, the gossips would never allow such a thing between them. Nor would the Bloody Duke.

  “And yet, I feel as if we still have much to say to each other.” That wasn’t quite what Phin meant, but he was tripping over his words – so very unlike him – so that would have to suffice for now.

  “I feel the same.” For a brief moment, Josie lowered her lashes, and something hot and needy flared inside of Phin. He was attracted to this woman. He could admit that, even if he knew that desiring her was…well, if not wrong, then ill-advised.

  “I also believe that each of us needs something from the other.” Now he had her undivided attention, and Phin wondered once more if she felt this same tug of attraction. If she did, would she act upon it? There was only one way to find out, he supposed.

  “Go on.” Her breath was shaky, Lord help him.

  “You are being pressed to find a husband. I am being pressed to find a wife who must also be a mother to my son, Philip. Once we find our respective mates, then we can no longer be…friends.”

  “That is true,” she allowed, though she was more hesitant now, as if she was trying to figure out what he was planning. That was good because Phin certainly had no idea what he was planning – other than in the vaguest sense. It would probably be a good thing if one of them knew what he was saying.

  “So why do we not take the time to say what still needs to be said between us while looking for these magical, possibly mythical mates of ours?” God above that had come out all wrong! Immediately Phin wished to smack himself in the head and try again.

  However, to his surprise, Josie seemed to understand, at least on some level, what he was trying to say – and doing so very badly. Why could he never find the proper words around this woman? “You mean that we help each other find a respectable mate?”

  “Something like that, yes.” Phin took her hands fully in his, thankful that she had understood his badly bungled offer. “Next week, I am hosting another house party at Havenhurst. Ostensibly, it is a ball in my sister’s honor as her birthday is next week. She hopes to use it as a betrothal ball, but I? Well, I wish for her to see the folly in what she has planned. To that end, I have invited an enormous number of unwed ladies and gentlemen rather than just the small number of guests she wished for initially.”

  Josie eyed him warily for a moment. “Hoping that she will make a better choice?”

  “Something like that,” he said again with a shrug. “The point is, the house will be full of eligible mates. Perhaps the gentleman of your dreams might be there, and, with a friend to help guide you in the process, you might find him sooner than you think.”

  “You? You would help to guide me in finding a husband?” She sounded rather incredulous.

  “Don’t make it seem so sordid. This sort of thing happens all the time.” Maybe. Well, probably not. “Men and women cannot be friends in Society, Josie. You know this. Even though some couples, while not wed, share long acquaintances going back to childhood. These friends, they chat and whatnot at house parties and the like. Away from prying eyes. It is quite common. At Havenhurst, we can say what we wish to say to each other, and, in the process, I can help you find a husband.” He paused. “And perhaps you might even help me find a bride? I can find mates for others but am abysmal when it comes to myself, it seems.”

  There a brief, terrible moment when Phin wondered if he had gone too far. Josie sat beside him with a frozen expression on her face, as if she had no idea what to say next. Then, finally and thankfully, she nodded in agreement with his mad scheme.

  “I have never heard of such a thing, Phin, but then I confess that I know very little about the ways of London. These things did not happen in Sharpe-On-Edgecombe, but that does not mean they do not take place elsewhere.” She didn’t look entirely convinced about the wisdom of his plan, but she didn’t appear to think it completely foolish, either.

  Just then, Phin prayed he would not be struck dead for lying. “They are not common, no, but they are not uncommon either.”

  Josie looked as if she was about to say no, and yet, he could see the war taking place within her. Her eyes were so very expressive, and her face showed her every emotion. She wanted to accept his invitation. She simply wasn’t quite sure if she should.

  “Very well.” He knew the moment she had made peace with her decision. “So long as at least Julia approves, I will attend your house party.” She paused and then grinned at him. “Once a proper, written invitation is delivered to my door, of course.”

  “Of course.” Phin found himself grinning back.

  This didn’t have to be the end of his association with Josie. He could spend more time with her. He still wouldn’t be able to marry her, but that might not matter. He could talk with her and dance with her and get her out of his system. Then he could find a wife and stop wondering about how Josie felt about the gossip that would likely take weeks to die down and stop worrying that she was furious with him.

  They could be together, under one roof in a proper setting, and they could talk. This could be the end of things, and they could both move on with their lives. Because like it or not, they were linked in a way that would take years to fade from Society’s memory. Her father had caused a major scandal.
His death had only made certain that scandal would linger. Both he and Josie needed more resolution than they could find in one night. Having her at his house party would give them that resolution.

  “Send the invitation ‘round tomorrow, Phin. I shall look forward to it.” Then Josie grinned at him, and Phin wondered if this had been such a brilliant idea after all. Or if he had doomed himself to desiring something he could not have.

  Chapter Five

  Town Tattler

  (Early Morning Edition)

  Another house party! Lord Fullbridge is hosting yet another house party! Can you believe it, dear readers, for I certainly cannot! And yet, though the Season is winding down, it is not yet finished, and once again, the good people of London are stuffing themselves into carriages and all manner of coaches to venture to Havenhurst, the duke’s country seat. Will it be worth the difficulties of travel? One can only guess.

  I am told this party is to celebrate his sister’s birthday. Other rumors insist that it will also serve as her betrothal ball. Which truth is right? I have no idea. Assuming anything is the truth any longer. All I do know is that both Lord Duncan Cleary, heir to the Marquess of Waverly and Lord Noah Acton, current Early of Snowly and heir to the Duke of Springford, shall be in attendance. Is one of them destined to be Lady Priscilla’s betrothed? Or is another gentleman, say someone like Lord Stratford Ayles, Earl of Warwick, in the running for the position as well?

  For once, dear readers, I have absolutely no idea.

  -Lady A

  “Have you lost your bloody mind?” Cilla hissed at her brother as she welcomed yet another carriage full of guests into Havenhurst, all while somehow keeping a polite if forced, smile on her face. “I asked you for a small and intimate gathering, not another bloody house party.”

  “I have my reasons for the invitations that have been issued, sister, dear.” If Cilla could be in a snit, then so could Phin.

  Except he wasn’t really in a snit. Actually, he was rather cheerful. Or he had been until his sister had learned that her plan to seduce Lord Duncan Cleary into her bed was not going exactly as she wished it. Oh, the house party she had requested was still taking place, but rather than being exclusive, Phin had invited nearly every eligible lady and gentleman in all of England.

  Something she had only learned about an hour ago.

  It was at that point that his sister had gone into this fit of temper – which was now threatening to sour his own good humor. Really, an hour was a bloody long time to be in such a foul mood, and she showed no signs of ceasing her rantings any time soon.

  Phin watched as Cilla’s eyes flashed with anger as her hands gripped the edges of her gown so hard that her knuckles turned white. “You could have informed me that you were inviting all of bloody England,” she snapped, her false smile faltering for just a minute.

  “And where would be the fun in that?” Phin quipped as the massive oak doors swung open again, and he moved to the center of the great hall, ready to greet his next guest. “Lord Snowly! How wonderful that you could make it on such short notice!”

  Beside him, Cilla seethed in silence, and her posture, which had been stiff before, became downright rigid. This was probably the last man on earth she wished to see at her house party, given their long and rather complicated relationship. Actually, Phin hadn’t been all that keen on inviting him for several reasons, but now that Josie was going to be here, he needed someone to keep Cilla occupied and away from the lecherous Lord Cleary.

  Truth told, there was no man in all of England who could preoccupy Cilla better than Lord Noah Acton. Not to mention that he was devil Phin knew rather than the one he didn’t know at all in Lord Cleary.

  “Lord Snowly.” Cilla dropped into an elegant curtesy, but Phin could see her eyes flash fire. “Welcome. It is good to see you again.”

  Actually, Cilla looked as if she would rather chew glass than invite the man into her home, but she didn’t say that. Instead, she offered him a tight smile. “If you would allow Anson, our butler, to show you to your room? I’m sorry to rush you through the greetings, but we do have quite a line of guests still arriving, and I should like to get all of the coaches through by twilight.”

  That had, of course, been Phin’s plan all along. He hoped to stuff Havenhurst so full of guests that Cilla would hardly have a moment alone with Lord Cleary. And, of course, if she were otherwise occupied, that would leave him with plenty of free time to spend with Josie. Oh, and find Josie an appropriate husband, of course. Which was the entire point of inviting her.

  Though he did have to keep reminding himself of why he had ever thought that finding her a husband was a good idea in the first place. Upon further reflection, Phin really didn’t like the idea of Josie marrying another man. He just didn’t.

  “The green room, I hope?” the Snowly asked, his eyes never leaving Cilla’s and forcing Phin’s mind back to his guests. Good. That was good.

  “Of course, man! Why would we place you anywhere else?” Phin slapped the earl on the back and, in the process, glared at his sister in silent warning that she shouldn’t even think about changing the earl’s rooms to less posh accommodations. “It’s your favorite as I recall. Right next to the family wing. We wouldn’t think of moving you elsewhere!”

  Next to the family wing also ensured Snowly easy access to Cilla if the man wanted it, and given the way Lord Acton was all but drooling as he gazed at Phin’s sister, that seemed like a safe bet.

  In the past, Phin would have tossed the man out on his arse for undressing Cilla with his eyes. Now? He was ready to give Acton the key to Cilla’s chambers and be done with things. Just so long as this man kept her away from Cleary. And from the look in Acton’s eyes, he was determined to do just that.

  Perhaps this house party might not be such a disaster after all. He could only hope, he supposed.

  “Dinner will be at eight.” Cilla’s tone was cold, but when the earl turned to gaze at her, Phin could hear the slight hitch in her voice, indicating she wasn’t as unaffected by the earl as she pretended. That was even better. She still cared for this man. “It will be a cold supper served buffet-style, I’m afraid, as guests will be arriving until well into the evening, I expect. I hope that suits you.”

  “Anything would suit me, my lady.” Phin had to stifle a laugh as the earl bowed low over Cilla’s hand and kissed it in a grand, sweeping gesture so public that there was no possible way she could pull away from him and look anything less than gracious.

  “Until then.” Cilla’s voice was choked, and once more, Phin had to stop himself from laughing. Oh, yes, his sister was going to be well-occupied indeed.

  Finally, when the other man was gone, as Phin had expected, Cilla grasped him by the arm and yanked him into the butler’s room, even though there was a line of carriages still waiting outside.

  “That is not amusing!” she snapped, reaching for a ledger that Anson kept on his desk. “You know I no longer wish for anything to do with Noah!”

  Phin plucked the ledger from Cilla’s hand before she could throw it at his head. She did have notoriously good aim. “You know I hate odd numbers, the guest list required more gentlemen,” he countered, “and Noah is an old friend. I would be remiss not to invite him.”

  “You want me preoccupied with Noah so I will forget about Duncan!” Cilla’s eyes narrowed. “Well, that shall not happen!”

  Actually, Phin rather hoped it would happen, but saying so would only push his sister farther towards the other man. That was the last thing he desired.

  “You forget, Cilla, that I am also looking for a bride. While it might be your birthday celebration, there are other reasons for hosting this house party. Neither of us grows any younger, and our time is running out.” He paused to peek out the window. They really needed to return to welcoming their guests. The carriages were beginning to back up two and three deep in places. “However, selecting a bride will also leave me with a large number of disappointed ladies if I don’t choos
e them to be my new wife, and unhappy ladies are, oftentimes, quite troublesome. Therefore, I also need eligible gentlemen in residence in order to soothe their hurts, shall we say. If a match is made between some of them, including Lord Acton and another female? Then so much the better. As I said, balanced numbers and all of that.”

  That seemed to bring Cilla up short, as if she hadn’t considered that Phin might have his own reasons for hosting this party. “You…wish to marry Noah off to some feather-brained chit if you decide she’s not good enough for you?” She frowned. “That is…not right. He deserves better than your cast-offs, Phin.”

  Ah, so Cilla wasn’t as over Noah Acton as she claimed. Even better.

  “Perhaps,” Phin shrugged as he moved back toward the door, “but these young ladies might interest him greatly, and they are hardly all feather-brains. There are some overlooked diamonds on the list. Many of whom are actually quite charming and possess more brains than most credit.”

  “Such as?” Clearly, Cilla did not believe him, but she wasn’t throwing things either, which was an improvement.

  “Lady Tabitha, for one.” He was pleased when Cilla bit her lip and then nodded in agreement with his example. “Lady Julianna, as well. Oh, and of course, Lady Josephine.”

  Phin saw something flare in Cilla’s eyes at the mention of Josie’s name. “Does that mean you are finally willing to move past the gossip and court the girl properly? I know you wish to do so, and you’ve hardly let gossip bother you before when there is something you desire.” It had, after all, been Cilla’s hope that Phin and Josie might make a match after that first night at Lady Chillton’s.

  Despite their squabbles, brother and sister did have each other’s best interests at heart. Most of the time, anyway.

  “It simply means that, like me, I believe she has been wronged by Society, and if I can do something to help her secure her future and find a husband who will treat her well? Then I will. Nothing more than that. Gossip be damned.” He opened the door and gestured to the room beyond where he could hear another group of guests already trouping through the front door. “Do not make more of this than it is, Cilla. Also, do not cross me. Not about this.”