Nothing But Scandal

by Allegra Gray

  Alex nodded, acknowledging her silent plea. He had plenty of questions for the brash Society miss-turned-governess, but he would not embarrass her by raising them in front of the children.

  “Uncle Alex!” Blissfully unaware of the tension between the two adults, Henry jumped up and down in an effort to get his uncle’s attention.

  “Your governess is right, Henry,” Alex said smoothly, bending for the little boy’s hug. “Here, let me show you a better way to hold that leash.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes were boring holes in the back of his neck, but he absorbed himself in puppy care. From the corner of his eye, he saw her straighten her cap and withdraw to a small garden bench as he played with the children. Her meek attitude completely belied the brazen chit he remembered from that morning in Hyde Park. The serviceable gray serge gown also made clear that she was not merely a guest of his sister who’d taken the children for a stroll.

  What on earth had happened in the last two weeks to change her so completely? And how had she landed in his sister’s employ?

  Whether Miss Medford wished it or not, he was going to find out more.

  With a promise to return soon, he sent the children running back to Elizabeth.

  He quickly found a lad to care for the stallion—thankfully the beast hadn’t wandered far—and strode into the house, ignoring the servants’ subtle glances at his dusty boots and jacket. He needed to find Marian.

  His sister sat in her favorite salon, the blue-and-white room, working peacefully at her embroidery.

  “What is she doing here?” Alex boomed.

  Marian jumped, dropping her needlework. “Who?”

  “Her. Miss Medford.”

  “I took her on as governess to the children.”

  “Clearly. But—” Alex searched his mind for how to say what needed to be said. He strode toward his sister. “Do you even know who she is?”

  “Of course I do,” Marian said calmly. “Sit down, Alex. There’s no need for dramatics. I fail to see why you’re upset. It isn’t the poor woman’s fault her circumstances are so reduced. Would you rather I’d turned her away?”

  “No.” Alex raked a hand through his hair, ignoring the invitation to sit. “Yes.”

  Marian narrowed her eyes at him, no stranger to the rumors about her brother’s many romantic liaisons. “Is there anything else I should know about her?”

  Alex’s shoulders slumped. “No.” In spite of Elizabeth’s outrageous proposal—a proposal he could not stop thinking about—nothing had actually happened. And he’d agreed not to mention their conversation, so there was really nothing more to say.

  Marian’s gaze softened. “She’s good with the children, Alex. She just wants to live quietly, forget the past, and do her job. That’s all I ask as well. I imagine it’s difficult for her. Just let her be.”

  Slowly, Alex took a seat. Elizabeth was a schemer. He was sure of it. A beautiful one, to be sure, but no young lady of the ton would willingly trade her privileged life for the work of a governess. Had her only marital option been that boor he’d met at the stables? He’d not heard Elizabeth described as one of the ton’s Incomparables, but surely she’d had suitors besides the one she’d been so desperate to avoid. And if she was absolutely determined not to marry, any number of men would happily support her in a comfortable style for the favors she’d rashly—and freely—offered him. Of course, her reputation would be shredded. She was too intelligent not to realize that.

  Nor did he believe it pure coincidence that she had hired on with the sister of the man to whom she’d made that insane proposal.

  No, Elizabeth Medford was definitely up to something. He just didn’t know what. And, clearly, Marian had been just as taken in by Elizabeth as Alex had been by her father.

  “So, who have you invited to this party of yours?” he asked to change the subject. “It’s a small affair, right? After all, the Season is still on.”

  “A smallish affair,” Marian confirmed. “About twenty guests.” A matchmaking look Alex knew too well lit his sister’s eyes. “Miss Landow and Miss Symington will be in attendance, along with a cousin of theirs just returned from France. I can’t recall her name just now. Unmarried,” she added helpfully.

  “I see. Please, do not tell me this party has been concocted for the purpose of finding me a lifelong companion.”

  “A fiancée.” Marian’s features took on the fierceness of one going into battle. “No, that’s not why I’m having the party, strictly speaking. But it wouldn’t hurt you to look. When are you going to settle down, Alex? Your youthful follies were fine for, well, a youth, but it’s been some time since you’ve seriously courted anyone.”

  “I’m not interested.”

  “You need an heir,” Marian pressed.

  “You speak as though I’ve one foot in the grave already.”

  Marian’s expression softened. “No, of course not. I just want to see you happy. And no matter what you claim, I don’t believe all your little affaires are actually making you that way.”

  She had a point. But admitting it would only add fuel to her fire. “We’ll see,” he said instead.

  Alex’s plan to uncover Elizabeth’s true motives was not progressing well. He’d learned disappointingly little from his sister. Confronting Elizabeth in person proved difficult, for the tempting governess had made herself quite scarce. As soon as the guests for the house party had arrived, Elizabeth and the children had retreated to the nursery, or wherever it was children went with their governesses these days.

  When she did appear in the open, she had the children in tow, and they were usually off to the gardens or the pond—somewhere, Alex realized, she was unlikely to be recognized by the other guests.

  On Saturday afternoon, Alex watched as Elizabeth walked with the little ones in the garden, pointing out the various plants and shrubs. A nature lesson, he guessed.

  The other houseguests were on an outing in the nearby town, but Alex had begged off, citing estate matters and correspondence. He’d dispatched those matters with ease, leaving the remainder of the day to his leisure.

  Elizabeth laughed, presumably at something one of the children had said. She’d allowed her bonnet to fall back, and the rays of the sun kissed her cheeks and gleamed on her hair.

  She was an enigma. Three weeks ago, he’d thought her no more than a spoiled, defiant daughter who didn’t know what was best for her—and who came from a family of schemers. Most of London knew by now that the Medford coffers were empty, the family teetering on the brink of ruin. He was well aware of his own role in bringing them to that state, but what had Miss Medford actually hoped to accomplish when she’d approached him in the park? And why him?

  True, she wanted to avoid marrying the arrogant pig he’d encountered at the Derringworth stables, but Elizabeth could have gone to any other nobleman—any other man, for that matter—and made him the same proposal she’d made to him. He couldn’t imagine many, besides himself, would turn her down.

  But, apparently, she hadn’t sought out another man, a fact he found oddly satisfying.

  She had, however, been serious enough about avoiding the unwanted marriage to accept work as a governess and risk being ostracized from her family.

  Judging from the genuine smile she gave the little girl holding her hand now, she didn’t appear to be sulking over that decision. He had to give her credit for that.

  Was her behavior with the children the true Elizabeth, and that morning in the park with him only a fluke? Alex considered himself an excellent judge of character, but he’d made a grave mistake with her father, and Elizabeth confused him even more. Even so, he wanted her.

  Alex resolved once more to speak with the unusual Miss Medford. If only he could get her alone.

  Chapter Four

  Though the Grumsbys’ house was spacious and well constructed, the walls could not completely mute the sounds of the ongoing party. Elizabeth willed herself to ignore them, but the occasional clink of a glas
s and low rumbles of laughter were excruciating reminders of how much she had lost.

  She’d thought she’d reconciled herself to her new station. But knowing he was downstairs, likely surrounded by fluttering women vying for his attention…remembering how desperately she’d wanted his attention for herse…well, she simply could not concentrate on responding to Bea’s most recent letter.

  At least the duke had left her alone since that first morning, reducing her opportunities to further embarrass herself. Not to mention reducing her own opportunities to gaze longingly at the man who obviously found her charms lacking.

  Did he think her a charlatan in her new role as governess? Thank the heavens he hadn’t said anything to Lady Grumsby about their last encounter, or she’d have been fired and back in Harold’s clutches for certain.

  Perhaps it was like Bea had said, and he’d dismissed her from his mind entirely. If only she could do the same about him.

  Instead, Elizabeth wished that for one day, she could have the luxury Alex Bainbridge did—not the material items, but the luxury to behave however recklessly he desired, and emerge unscathed.

  Another rumble of laughter sounded, and she imagined him at the center of an admiring group.

  Finally she gave up all pretense of writing. If Bea didn’t receive a response immediately, she was unlikely to worry.

  Elizabeth couldn’t sit still any longer. She pulled a light shawl around her shoulders and quietly left her room. A walk in the gardens was in order. To be so near the duke, and yet so far, made her heart ache. But she’d stay well away from the party. She’d no desire to see the other guests—it was only too likely she’d be recognized and pitied.

  The faint scent of earth and new growth lingered in the air as she stepped away from the house. She breathed it in, relaxing slightly. The moon hung low and bright in the sky. She and the solitary orb had something in common: they were alone. She forced her mind to focus on it, letting the tinkling sounds of the house party wash over her like harmless waves.

  She was away from Harold, and she had employment. She’d just never realized how lonely her new life would be.

  Inside, Alex smiled obligingly at the comely miss—what was her name?—with whom Marian had set him up. He stifled a yawn.

  Alex loved his sister dearly, but this party was beyond mundane.

  “I think I need a bit of fresh air,” he lied.

  The young lady brightened, no doubt imagining a romantic interlude. “Shall I accompany you, Your Grace?”

  “No.”

  Her face fell. She gathered her skirts and, with a hasty curtsy, rushed off to join the gaggle of women surrounding his sister. Perfect. Marian would undoubtedly hear firsthand about his beastly behavior. Alex tossed back his wine, wishing it was brandy. Marian could scold him if she wanted, but he wasn’t about to start encouraging every vapid miss that came his way. His heart wasn’t in it.

  Before another of Marian’s guests could attach herself to him, Alex made a hasty exit, heading outdoors to back up the claim he needed air. He could always come back in through another entrance and seek the solace of his rooms.

  Perhaps he’d become too accustomed to more wicked pursuits, because tonight, when the “entertainment” consisted of sipping wine and politely listening to pianoforte performances, he felt as though he were dying a slow death.

  As he rounded a path outdoors and spied the silhouette of a young woman standing alone in the garden, the evening became infinitely more interesting—particularly because the gleam of moonlight on auburn hair immediately gave her identity away.

  Unconsciously, he softened his step. This time, she’d not be able to avoid him.

  He waited until he stood just behind her before asking the question he’d been pondering since discovering her in his sister’s employ. “Why are you here?”

  She whipped around, eyes large. “Your Grace.”

  He inclined his head.

  “I was just, that is”—she gestured toward the sky—“the moon is lovely tonight.”

  “So it is. But that only answers part of my question.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “What brings you here, Miss Medford? To Garden Home?”

  “You know the answer to that, Your Grace. I am governess to your nephew and niece.”

  “Of course.”

  “What do you mean, ‘of course’?” Her chin went up. “Your sister was kind to hire me, and I am thankful for the position.”

  He admired her unique combination of spirit and humility. She wasn’t too proud to admit she was grateful to have work, but she was strong enough to defend her choice. And now that he’d met Harold Wetherby, Alex had an inkling of why she’d made that decision. But he wanted to hear it from her. Why had she run away, when so many other women in her plight would have submissively married the prig?

  “I had the pleasure of meeting your fiancé,” he announced, keeping his tone jovial.

  She frowned. “My fiancé?”

  “Wetherby informs me you two are to marry.”

  Even the moonlight couldn’t hide her deep flush. Embarrassment, or something else? Anger, perhaps?

  “Oh, yes. We’re very much in love,” she choked out.

  “So Wetherby says,” Alex lied. “He is…really something. However did you manage to catch him?”

  A strangled laugh escaped her throat. “Sheer luck, I suppose.”

  “Oh, come now,” he teased. “A beauty like yourself? Wetherby must have done away with all your other suitors to even have a chance.”

  “Something like that,” she said faintly, and pulled her shawl closer around her shoulders.

  Ah. So she hadn’t had other offers. At least none her father had accepted prior to his death. Elizabeth was attractive, but her lack of dowry was public knowledge. Guilt pricked him, and he resisted the urge to draw her close and protect her.

  Instead, Alex decided to raise the stakes of their verbal game. “So, tell me. How does Wetherby feel about his fiancée working as a governess?”

  Some unidentifiable emotion flickered in her eyes, but she kept her stance proud. “I was quite grief-stricken when my father died, and not at all ready to wed. Harold understands that. And he understands the necessity of working to support oneself, having done so himself.”

  Alex was willing to bet Wetherby would happily live off another’s largess, given the opportunity. But that was not his main concern.

  “Ah. So he does know you’re here.”

  She hesitated.

  The game was up.

  “Elizabeth? The truth, if you please.”

  She looked away, her posture so rigid that, especially in the moonlight, she could have been made of marble.

  “All right. If you must know, Harold does not know my new location,” she murmured.

  “And you wish to keep it that way,” he surmised. She’d rather toil in obscurity than marry that cretin. It was a decision few of her sex would make, but one he could respect.

  “You won’t say anything to him, will you?” she pled, stepping closer and placing one hand on his jacket. There was real fear in her voice.

  He placed his hand over hers. Wetherby was more of a bastard than he’d thought, if he frightened her so. Alex gentled his tone. “No. I will say nothing.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief. She made a tiny motion to withdraw her hand, but he held it firm.

  “But you must make me a promise in return.”

  “My lord?”

  “I’ve yet to have a dull encounter with you, Miss Medford. Which sets you apart from most of your female counterparts.”

  “Thank you, I suppose,” she answered. Her tongue darted out nervously to wet her lips.

  A flash of heat, of pure sensual awareness, passed through him. He released her hand in surprise. “It was indeed intended as a compliment,” he told her.

  “But what must I promise you?”

  Never taking his gaze from hers, he gave her his most wicked grin.
“Stop avoiding me.”

  Her features registered surprise. Alex was tempted to kiss away the expression, but settled instead for a light brush of his fingers against her cheek before he strode back to the house. He’d learned what he needed to know—there was no point in scaring her off.

  His sojourn in the country had suddenly become far more entertaining. If Elizabeth had the guts to keep that promise.

  The Viscountess Grumsby didn’t know it, but she was torturing Elizabeth. The small house party was supposed to last a week. It was the morning of day three, and Elizabeth felt trapped.

  She’d been on edge ever since Alex Bainbridge had galloped, literally, back into her life. Blast her awful red hair. But for it, he might not have recognized her so quickly. The moment she’d looked up into those mocking dark eyes, she’d been struck by both embarrassment and longing. This was the man privy to, and in some way responsible for, the most excruciatingly humiliating moment of her life.

  And yet one look into that sinfully handsome face, one moment spent observing his obvious caring for his niece and nephew, and Elizabeth was once more lost. Only this time she couldn’t afford to humiliate herself. Her position depended on model behavior.

  Decorum. Responsibility and decorum. She’d breached them once in her proposal to Alex, and once more in leaving home. A third indiscretion would surely mean her destruction.

  And after their conversation in the garden last night, Elizabeth worried that indiscretion was exactly what the duke had in mind. If only the idea wasn’t so tempting.

  If Viscountess Grumsby had any notion of the thoughts Elizabeth harbored toward her brother, she’d be cast out without reference. And while being a governess was not a life of luxury, Elizabeth was content, at least for now. The Grumsby children were sweet-natured and eager to learn and explore. The lord and lady of the house treated her kindly. Her own family had, thus far, left her alone. Eventually, Elizabeth figured, she would come up with a more permanent solution for her future. In the meantime, her governess’s work provided just the haven she needed.