One Night of Scandal (Avon Historical Romance)

by Teresa Medeiros

  Judging from the hair hanging in its eyes and the dirt smudging its slender nose, the creature peeping around the doorframe was definitely mortal. Sensing that her visitor was only a friendly smile away from bolting, Lottie quickly returned her attention to the trunk.

  “Good morning, Allegra,” she said coolly. “Would you care to come in?”

  From the corner of her eye, she saw the girl sidle into the room, her feet dragging in their unlaced boots. Lottie was thankful that the first chapter of her manuscript, finished shortly before dawn, was tucked beneath a false panel at the bottom of her writing case, safe from prying eyes.

  After a moment of awkward silence, Allegra blurted out, “Do you love my father?”

  Lottie couldn’t have said why the question gave her pause. After all, she barely knew the girl’s father.

  While she was struggling to frame a suitable answer, Allegra scuffed the toe of her boot against the floor. “I shouldn’t blame you if you didn’t. He’s quite insufferable.”

  Lottie was spared from either scolding or agreeing by Mirabella, who came bouncing out from under the bed like a rabid dust bunny. She pounced on one of Allegra’s bootlaces with demonical glee.

  Lottie expected Allegra to fuss and croon over the kitten just as any other little girl would have, but the child was staring at the object Lottie had just fished out of the trunk.

  Lottie held up the battered doll, a fond smile curving her lips. “My sister bought her for me on her very first trip to London when I was around your age. Laura thought she looked just like me. Can you believe the poor dear was once nearly as lovely as the doll your father had made for you?”

  The doll had originally sported a topknot of long golden curls, but Lottie had scorched half of them away in an overzealous session with the curling tongs. The roses in her cheeks had faded. The ruffles of her petticoat were tattered and stained, her snub nose chipped. She wore a black silk patch over one eye.

  “After she lost her eye in a tragic archery accident, my brother George and I used to play pirates with her,” Lottie explained. “We used to make her walk the plank out of the barn loft—hence the chipped nose.”

  Allegra continued to study the doll, a thoughtful expression on her serious little face. “I like her,” she finally said. “Might I play with her?”

  Lottie was taken aback by the bold request. But Allegra’s uncompromising gaze was impossible to resist. Despite what Hayden had told her about Allegra’s tantrums, Lottie got the distinct impression that the child asked for little and expected even less.

  Smoothing the doll’s skirt, Lottie reluctantly handed her over. “I don’t suppose you can do her any more harm than I already have.”

  “Thank you.” Without another word, Allegra tucked the doll beneath her arm and marched from the room.

  Lottie arrived at breakfast to find Hayden waiting for her at the head of a mahogany monstrosity of a table long enough to hold a cricket tournament atop its gleaming surface. Devonbrooke House had boasted just such a table, but when it was only the family dining, Sterling had insisted that they gather at one end or the other, the better to enjoy each other’s company and conversation. As a footman escorted Lottie to the lone chair situated at the foot of the table, she could only assume that Hayden had no interest in either.

  He did have enough manners to rise when she entered the room.

  “Good morning, my lord,” she said primly, sliding into her seat.

  “My lady,” he returned, surveying her staid attire through hooded eyes.

  He dropped back into his chair, drawing a watch from his waistcoat pocket. At first Lottie thought the gesture was meant to reproach her for her tardiness, but then she realized there was one more place set at the table.

  Exactly halfway between the two of them.

  Hayden barely had time to snap his watch shut before Allegra appeared. Instead of dragging her feet, the girl was practically skipping. She’d dressed for breakfast by pulling up one grimy stocking and smearing the dirt from her nose to her cheek. Humming beneath her breath, she made a great production of shoving one of the heavy chairs closer to her own and settling her burden into it with the tender consideration usually reserved only for the aged or the infirm.

  Hayden scowled at the chair, unable to hide his consternation. “What on earth is that thing?”

  “She’s my new doll. Mummy gave her to me.” Allegra turned and beamed at Lottie. The sunny smile transformed her face. For an elusive instant, she wasn’t just striking, she was beautiful.

  The little monster.

  As Hayden shifted his gaze to Lottie, she felt her stomach sink to the vicinity of her knees. “How very generous of Mummy,” he said smoothly, his eyes glittering as he lifted his cup of coffee to her in a mocking toast.

  Generous indeed for Lottie to give his child a well-worn and well-loved toy to pamper while his own lovely and expensive gift moldered in her plush coffin of a trunk.

  “It’s just one of my old playthings,” Lottie hastened to explain. “Allegra came in while I was unpacking and took a fancy to her.”

  The girl folded her napkin into a makeshift bib and tucked it into the doll’s ruffled bodice. “Mummy said the doll looks just like she did when she was my age.”

  Hayden thoughtfully studied the doll’s fuzzy, scorched curls, chipped nose, and pirate’s patch. Despite her many travails, her remaining blue eye had never quite lost its smug twinkle, nor her rosebud lips their smirk. “I, for one,” he said, “can still see a marked resemblance.”

  Fortunately for him, the same little red-haired maid who had brought Lottie her supper came bustling in with a steaming tureen of porridge at that moment, blocking Lottie’s outraged glare. As they ate, the tense silence was broken only by Allegra’s crooning as she lifted her spoon to the doll’s lips to offer her some porridge. Lottie downed her own hot chocolate in a single gulp, rather wishing it was strychnine.

  As Allegra polished off the last of her porridge with a satisfied slurp, her gaze traveled between Hayden and Lottie. “So how did the two of you meet?”

  Lottie choked on a mouthful of kipper.

  “I believe I’ll let Mummy answer that question.” Hayden settled back in his chair, the wicked sparkle in his eyes warning her that he was anticipating her answer nearly as much as Allegra was.

  Knowing that she couldn’t very well blurt out, “I was peeping through your father’s window when he mistook me for a courtesan,” Lottie blotted her lips with her napkin to stall for time. “Well…although it may seem as if we wed in haste, I was well aware of your father even before we met.”

  “Is he famous?” Allegra asked, blinking innocently.

  “Notorious,” Hayden murmured, taking a sip of his coffee.

  Lottie’s smile felt frozen in place. “Let’s just say that he’s rather celebrated in certain circles. Which is why I was so very eager to make his acquaintance.”

  “And was he everything you hoped he’d be?”

  “And more.” Lottie gave Hayden a smile dripping with acid sweetness.

  “So where did you meet?”

  “Actually, we met during my debut,” Lottie informed the girl, trying very hard not to lie. “Just before the first waltz.”

  She slumped with relief as Allegra’s avid attention shifted to her father. “How did you know you wanted to marry her?”

  Even down the length of the table, the look Hayden gave Lottie was as intimate as a caress. “As I’m sure you can see, your stepmother’s charms were such that I didn’t require much persuasion.”

  And he hadn’t, Lottie supposed. Not unless you counted the dueling pistol Sterling had leveled at his heart. She tore her gaze away from his, shaken not only by his blatant deceit, but by its unsettling effect on her. She would have to guard herself more carefully in the future. Any man who could lie to a child, especially his own, was even more dangerous than she had believed.

  To her keen relief, the maid reappeared at that moment to clear away
the dishes.

  Allegra wiped the doll’s mouth, then rose. “May we please be excused, Father?”

  “By all means,” Hayden replied evenly.

  As she departed, cradling the doll to her shoulder as if it were a cherished babe, the maid gaped after her, too engrossed to notice when a stream of chocolate dribbled out of a cup and into Lottie’s lap.

  “Meggie!” Hayden said sharply.

  The girl snapped out of her daze. “Oh, m’lady, I’m so sorry!” She snatched up a napkin and smeared the chocolate deeper into the expensive fabric of Lottie’s skirt.

  “It’s quite all right,” Lottie assured the girl as she struggled to wrest the sticky napkin from her fingers.

  When the maid had finished her clearing and gone, Hayden leaned back in his chair, a wry smile playing around his lips. “You’ll have to forgive Meggie. She’s not accustomed to hearing my daughter ask permission for anything. Especially not from me.”

  “Once we begin our lessons, I’ll do what I can to polish her manners.”

  “I don’t give a flying fig about her manners.” Hayden slammed his coffee cup down on the table, startling Lottie with his vehemence. “I didn’t bring you here to stuff Allegra’s head with a lot of rot and nonsense. I want you to teach her languages and history and geography and mathematics. I want you to give her knowledge that might actually be of benefit to her if she ever has to make her way in this world alone.”

  “Most of society considers the grace to make a proper curtsy and the ability to fill out a dance card correctly the only knowledge necessary to snare a wealthy husband,” Lottie pointed out.

  “Those skills will be useless to Allegra. She’ll never be able to take her rightful place in society or make an advantageous match.” Bitterness edged his voice. “Her mother and I made sure of that.”

  “She’s still several years away from her debut. Perhaps if enough time passes…”

  His pitying gaze silenced her. “I could keep her cloistered here for the next thirty years, but when she emerged into society, she would still be known as the daughter of a cold-blooded murderer.”

  Lottie swallowed, not entirely sure if he was referring to the duel that had killed his best friend.

  “What I want you to do is develop her mind.” An odd shadow passed over his face. “I want you to make it strong. Unbreakable.”

  Remembering the cunning the child had exhibited by fawning over the bedraggled doll, Lottie murmured, “That shouldn’t be too difficult a task.”

  “I just need to know that after I’m gone, Allegra will be able to look after herself. As long as I’m alive, she’ll never want for anything.” He studied Lottie’s face, his green eyes softening to the warmth of a sunlit glade. “If you’ll help me protect her, my lady, nor will you.”

  He might be making a promise he couldn’t keep, Lottie thought after he had sketched her a bow and taken his leave. She was afraid she was already beginning to want for something she could never have.

  After a meandering search of the house turned up no sign of her young charge, Lottie wandered to the basement kitchen, hoping one of the servants might know where to find Allegra. She stepped off the stairs and rounded the corner only to discover Martha and Mrs. Cavendish in a heated discussion. Although their hissed whispers probably weren’t carrying to the nervous-looking maids hovering near the fireplace oven, Lottie had only to sidle near enough to read their lips.

  “I don’t think we should hire the girl,” Mrs. Cavendish was saying. The head housekeeper’s pale flesh was drawn tightly over her prominent cheekbones, giving her face a sunken look. Had she been one of their teachers at Mrs. Lyttelton’s, Lottie and Harriet probably would have unkindly christened her ‘Mrs. Cadaver.’ “After all, what do we know of the chit, other than that she just showed up on the master’s doorstep this morning begging for a position?”

  “Well, I say we can’t afford not to hire her,” Martha said. “We lost three girls last month and another two last night. They fled before dawn without even bothering to pack their belongings. If this keeps up, it’ll be just you and me looking after the entire house by summer.”

  “But the girl has no letters of reference, no experience, and she’s blind as a bat. When Giles answered the door this morning, she nearly strangled him with his own cravat because she thought it was still the door knocker. And did you see the way she handled the broom? Why, she stirred up more dirt than she collected! When I handed her the feather duster, she handed it right back to me, saying that both feathers and dust make her sneeze.”

  “She’ll learn quick enough if she wants to eat. If she doesn’t, I’ll box some sense into her ears.”

  Mrs. Cavendish drew herself up, her thin nostrils flaring. “Well, I still think it’s a mistake.”

  Looking as if she’d rather like to box Mrs. Cavendish’s ears, too, Martha hissed, “Then it’s a mistake we’ll have to make. What else are we to do? It’s only bound to get worse now that he’s brought another woman into this house. Even the men are afraid to come out of their quarters after dark. No one wants to risk running into that frightful—”

  Lottie must have made some involuntary noise, for both women jerked around to stare at her. They could have looked no guiltier had they been caught nipping from a bottle of cooking sherry.

  Mrs. Cavendish was the first to rush forward, the ring of keys at her waist jingling and her thin lips pressed into a solicitous smile. “Oh, my lady, whatever are you doing down here? If you needed something, you had only to ring.”

  “She’s right, dearie.” Martha came bustling toward her. “You mustn’t forget that you’re a marchioness now and old Martha here is at your beck and call.”

  Before Lottie could catch her breath, the women had surrounded her. Clucking and scolding, they quickly herded her out of the kitchen, leaving her no more time to wonder about the nearsighted new maid who had only sneezing fits and boxed ears in her dismal future.

  Since both Martha and Mrs. Cavendish denied any knowledge of Allegra’s whereabouts, Lottie decided to brave the manor grounds. As she slipped out the front door of the house, the harsh wind stung her cheeks and made a mockery of her cashmere shawl. It was hard to believe that somewhere in England, a gentle breeze was coaxing the buds on the trees into full bloom while the tender petals of the late-blooming tulips poked their way through the sun-warmed soil. Here there was only moor, wind, sea, and sky, all battling to see who would claim dominion over this barren kingdom.

  Although her first impulse was to duck right back into the house, she set off at a brisk pace, still thinking about the conversation she had overheard. Despite what Hayden had claimed, apparently she wasn’t the only one who had been disturbed by that mournful wailing last night. Nor was it the first time it had occurred. If it happened again, Lottie promised herself she would not go fleeing into the night like those terrified maids. She would somehow find the nerve to return to the spot where she had heard that ghostly music, even if it meant risking another confrontation with her husband.

  After a search of the deserted courtyard and neglected gardens yielded nothing, she finally found Allegra perched high in the gnarled branches of an apple tree at the edge of a dying orchard. Lottie’s doll lay abandoned at the foot of the tree, sprawled facedown in the dirt.

  Shaking her head ruefully, Lottie brushed off the doll’s chipped nose and gently propped her against the tree trunk in a sitting position. “Halloo there!” she shouted up at Allegra. “Won’t you come down and talk to me?”

  The child’s sunny demeanor had vanished. “No, thank you,” she called out, continuing to gaze toward the distant horizon. “I’m quite content where I am.”

  Lottie absorbed that information for a moment. “Very well, then. If you don’t want to come down, then I’ll come up.” Having learned her lesson on the night of her debut, Lottie took the time to strip off her shawl and knot her skirts between her legs, fashioning a makeshift pair of pantaloons, before starting up the tree.
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  She arrived at Allegra’s perch, stockings snagged and slightly out of breath, to find the girl eyeing her suspiciously. “I didn’t think ladies were allowed to climb trees.”

  “Ladies are allowed to do whatever they like,” Lottie informed her. She leaned forward, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “As long as there’s no one else about to see them.”

  She settled herself between two branches, torn between the curving coastline on one side and the sweeping sea of marsh grass on the other. Even with the wind snatching away each breath before she could take it, she had to admit it was a magnificent view.

  Allegra continued to scowl at her. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with my father?”

  “Actually, your father was the one who sent me to find you. He thought that I might be able to help you with your lessons.”

  “I don’t have lessons.”

  Taken aback by the child’s brusqueness, Lottie said, “Well then, perhaps it’s time you did. I brought some wonderful books from London—Raleigh’s The History of the World, Linnaeus’s Philosophia Botanica, Savigny’s History of Roman Law in the Middle Ages.”

  “I don’t like books.”

  It was Lottie’s turn to look suspicious. She didn’t trust anyone who didn’t like books. “If you don’t like books, then you’ve never read Castle of Wolfenbach by Mrs. Parsons. It was so thrilling that after I finished it, I refused to sleep without a candle burning by my bedside for over a week.”

  Allegra sniffed disdainfully. “Martha says that books are a waste of both paper and time and I’d be better served learning how to plant potatoes.”

  Horrified, Lottie couldn’t speak at all for a moment. “Well, if Martha had ever read The Midnight Bell, The Mysterious Warning, or The Murderous Monk, she might not be so quick to dismiss all books as a waste of time and paper!” Remembering that she was supposed to be providing a model of decorum for the child, Lottie struggled to rein in her temper. “Since I haven’t had any experience with planting potatoes, why don’t we meet this afternoon in the schoolroom before tea for our very first lesson?”