To Wed in Scandal (A Scandal in London Novel)

by Liana Lefey

  A bitter smile crossed her lips. “And I don’t trust you.”

  The dance separated them momentarily. Her answer was nothing he hadn’t expected, but at least now he could address the issue openly. “I hope to change your opinion of me, Sabrina,” he said when they rejoined.

  “Do you? Well, you can begin by not embarrassing me the way you did just now!” Yanking her hand loose, she left him standing there.

  Bloody hell.

  TWO DAYS LATER

  HER MOTHER’S BROWS lowered as she read the card presented to her by the footman. “It appears we have a caller. Lord Fairford is here.”

  Sabrina had to work hard to keep a triumphant grin from spreading across her face. He had come!

  “I hope you know what you’re doing, Sabrina.”

  “Oh, Mama! He’s perfect, I tell you,” she whispered excitedly. “Just give him a chance, and you’ll see.”

  “My lady, I thank you for receiving me,” said Fairford, bowing elegantly upon entering. “I do hope I have not caused any inconvenience.”

  “Not at all. We were just having tea, if you would care to join us.” Not waiting for his reply, her mother signaled the attending servant.

  Sabrina waited with anticipation as Fairford sat across from her.

  “What brings you here?” asked her mother.

  “I was in the area on business.” He smiled crookedly and looked down. “The truth is that, although I sent an invitation this morning, I wanted to personally invite you to a ball I’m hosting next month. I do hope you’ll both attend.”

  “We’d be delighted, of course,” came her mother’s polite reply.

  The breath Sabrina had been holding was released.

  “Wonderful. Naturally, I do hope to visit again much sooner,” he added.

  Sabrina smiled. He’d said it while looking right at her. This is it. It’s now or never. “Are you planning to attend the opening of Giulio Cesare next week? We shall be there,” she said, ignoring her mother’s sharp glare.

  “I had not planned to do so, but if you wish it—”

  “Lord Montgomery has invited us to share his family’s box for the event,” her mother cut in cheerfully. “We’re so looking forward to it. Ah, Susette!” she greeted the servant pushing the tea tray. “Come in and help me pour.”

  Sabrina sat with growing impatience as her mother spent the next several minutes determining everyone’s preference for cream and sugar, informing her guest that this particular tea was her favorite, and elaborating on its history and fine qualities ad nauseam.

  “I can hardly wait to hear the aria. It’s been described as utterly magnificent,” continued her mother, switching back to the initial subject without preamble. “Such a thrill to have fresh, new entertainment.”

  Sabrina did her best to keep a cool head, projecting calm and dignity. There Mama sat, chirping like a magpie—and sabotaging her efforts to gain Fairford’s interest.

  Luckily, he seemed not to notice. Cool, pleasant, and above all humble, he remained the perfect antidote for Montgomery.

  As her thoughts turned to him, her stomach tightened. He would be wroth when he learned of Fairford’s visit. She breathed deeply and forced herself to return to calm nonchalance. There was no reason to worry, after all. She’d made no commitment, no promises. Any anger on his part was purely his own problem, not hers.

  “More tea?” she asked Fairford, encouraging him with a smile.

  “How is your father?” asked her mother. “Sheffield tells me he has not seen Lord Middleton in some time. He used to play chess with him almost weekly.”

  “He is well,” said Fairford, setting down his cup. “A fever he contracted years ago has left him with a weakness of the lungs that has held him prisoner in the house all winter, but the warmer weather we’ve had of late seems to be doing wonders. I shall tell him Sheffield craves a match. Perhaps that will speed his recovery.”

  “Please give him my felicitations as well,” her mother added. “Though it is many years since I have seen him, I remember him well.”

  “Of course, your ladyship. I expect he will be delighted to greet you at our little soiree.”

  “Tell me, my lord, do you play chess?” Sabrina asked.

  “Indeed, I am a proficient player,” answered Fairford even as her mother frowned at her from beside him. “And you?”

  “It is one of my chief enjoyments,” she replied, happy to finally be establishing common ground with him. “I should very much like a match when next you visit.”

  Mama was now shaking her head slightly in warning, but Sabrina needed to know whether Fairford sought a companion or merely an ornamental vessel for his heirs. She would modify her approach according to her observations today.

  “Of course, my lady,” he answered. “Your pleasure is mine.”

  “Sabrina is quite an accomplished young lady,” her mother interjected. “She excels at all of the arts and is especially gifted in music. I hired the finest teachers in England to tutor all of my girls.”

  “Is that so?” said Fairford, seeming genuinely interested. He turned to face her. “What instruments do you play?”

  “I am skilled at both the spinet and the flute,” Sabrina responded. “I’ve written several original compositions as well,” she added. “Perhaps you might like to—”

  “They really are quite pretty, considering she is an amateur,” cut in her mother, giving her another quelling look.

  “I should very much enjoy a recital,” he said. “After our match, of course.”

  His answer pleased Sabrina, even though she noted that his smile did not quite reach his eyes. “I would be delighted, my lord.”

  When he departed, it was with the promise to call again soon.

  “Sabrina, you took a foolish risk, revealing your bluestocking tendencies to a man like him,” said her mother. “You ought to know by now that not every man appreciates a woman’s skill beyond that which is required to keep his home. You’re very lucky it didn’t put him off.”

  “I thought you didn’t approve of him?”

  “Though his rank is less than I’d hoped, I favor him more than others and less than some,” her mother replied. “At least he isn’t the son of a merchant.”

  Well, that’s a mercy, thought Sabrina, relieved. She knew who her mother meant by “some,” of course. Montgomery. But as long as she didn’t disapprove of Fairford, that meant she had a chance. If he came to scratch, that is.

  The night of the opera had finally arrived, and she readied herself with great anticipation. The green velvet gown she’d selected would be just right to offset the frilly confection she’d worn the last time Fairford had seen her. Tonight, he would learn she could be sophisticated as well as virtuous.

  Donning the lovely thing, she surveyed her reflection, determining that her hair was nowhere near what it should be for a gown this elegant. She bade her maid redo it in a higher style to accentuate the low décolletage. She must look her very best.

  Just as it was finished, she heard a commotion below. Montgomery had arrived.

  She sighed. There was no point in waiting here, stewing in her own bile. He would only take it as a sign of cowardice. So, with one final adjustment to her hair, she went to face the enemy head-on.

  I shall be cordial and sweet, she resolved. After all, I can afford to be nice. Only a little while longer, and I’ll be free of him forever. The moment she saw him, however, she wanted to throttle him, for he looked her up and down with deliberate slowness.

  “How enchanting you look this evening.”

  “Thank you, my lord.” Leave it. Say nothing more!

  “The shade quite becomes you,” he added softly, igniting her with his gaze.

  The look, along with his compliment, made her pulse jump. “My mother selected the fabric,” she lied.

  His lips lifted in that slanted smile, the one that sent heat down the backs of her thighs. “She must have known how fetching you would look in it.” />
  Thankfully, her mother swept in at that precise moment, preventing her from having to reply.

  Sabrina tried her best to ignore Montgomery as the carriage rolled along toward their destination, and prayed she would not be required to make conversation with him, polite or otherwise. Unfortunately, heaven seemed not to be listening to her at the moment.

  “I hear Fairford called last week,” he said.

  Damn. “Indeed. He was in the area and stopped by to pay his respects.” She hoped she sounded nonchalant.

  “I hear he also paid a visit to Miss Bidewell,” he added.

  She had not heard about that. “May not a gentleman call upon a lady without the immediate assumption of impending nuptials?”

  “Well, certainly,” answered her mother before Montgomery could speak. “He called upon you, didn’t he? However, Lady Sotheby told me yesterday that his visit to the Bidewells was a bit more than a simple social call. Apparently, Lady Bidewell has reason to hope for a match.”

  Sabrina looked at her suspiciously. She’d known about this since yesterday and had not breathed a word of it to her. How convenient that she’d waited until now to mention it! Her gaze swung over to Montgomery. Were they collaborating, she wondered?

  It didn’t matter. She would see Fairford tonight and discern his intent for herself. “If he has decided to court Miss Bidewell, then I wish him—and her—the very best, of course.”

  They arrived at the theater and made it to Montgomery’s box without further discussion on the matter. She would have liked a bit more distance between herself and their escort along the way. Everyone who saw them smiled that smile—the one that said, “We expect a wedding invitation!” They would indeed receive an invitation, but the groom would not be the man beside her now.

  Once seated, she began to scan the crush for familiar faces, searching for one in particular. When she at last espied Fairford, she was most displeased indeed, for Lady Bidewell and her daughter flanked him. She watched as he offered Miss Bidewell his opera glasses.

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were setting out to seduce someone tonight,” Montgomery murmured at her ear. “Tell me, did you wear that luscious velvet for me?”

  A wave of gooseflesh rippled across her skin, causing her to shiver. Taking a deep breath, she struggled for composure. “I did not.”

  He leaned closer. “Then for whom, might I ask, did you wear it? Certainly not for a man sitting all the way across the theater? A man who can hardly appreciate it at such a distance? A man sitting with another woman?”

  “I wore it to please myself!” she hissed, glancing at her mother, who appeared oblivious to the goings-on a mere pace away.

  Again he chuckled, once more raising the hair on her neck. “I think not. A woman always dresses to be admired, Sabrina, and not by her mirror. Therefore, it would be rude of me not to comply with your wishes and…admire you.”

  The lights dimmed and the opera commenced.

  She spent the next half hour painfully aware of the man beside her. His clean scent acted on her senses like an intoxicant. Every detail seemed to jump out at her: the way his jacket’s sleeve tightened across his arm and shoulder when he moved, the strong tendons in his hand as he adjusted his opera glasses. She found herself wishing he would touch her, giving her a reason to slap him silly and run away.

  But he did not. He behaved like a perfect gentleman, save for the way his gaze caressed her from time to time. Each time it roved across her skin, heat suffused her flesh as if it were a physical touch. When the curtain fell for intermission, she fairly leaped from her seat.

  The hall was filled with people, the stifling, warm air redolent with every perfume known to womankind. Escaping both the crush and the miasma, she made for the outside steps. To her delight, Lord Fairford was there, enjoying a pipe and taking in the night air.

  His eyes lit at her approach. “Good evening, Lady Sabrina. A pleasure to see you once again.”

  “Likewise,” she said, meaning it. After the disturbance upstairs, his presence was like a cool bath to her raw, heated nerves. “Are you enjoying the opera?”

  “I am now.”

  The blatant flattery earned him a saucy smile.

  Just then, she spied Miss Bidewell. Sweeping in, the woman took possession of Fairford’s arm. “There you are, my lord. I—oh! Lady Sabrina. I didn’t know you enjoyed the theater.”

  “I’m here at my mother’s behest. While I can appreciate the skill of the performers, opera is her passion, not mine,” Sabrina replied, having quickly picked up on Fairford’s aversion to it.

  Miss Bidewell sniffed in disdain. “I see. Then pray tell us, what is your passion?”

  “I quite enjoy politics, philosophy, chess, and most literature,” Sabrina replied.

  The other girl’s smile tightened, her eyes glittering with malice. “Yes, your love of books is well known.”

  Sabrina knew she was expected to take umbrage at the blatant inference, but she refused to give the little serpent the satisfaction of seeing her react.

  No woman with older sisters grew up without learning what to expect from a hostile rival. The proper way to counter an attack on one’s character was to gracefully redirect it back at the source. If she had earned a certain reputation for naughtiness, then she would bloody well use it to make her opponent appear a prudish bore!

  “Oh, I’m not completely cerebral in nature,” she laughed mischievously. “I enjoy the outdoors well enough when the weather is fine. I am inordinately fond of gardening.” Here she paused for effect, looking her enemy directly in the eye. “Roses are my particular favorite,” she added. “Although, I admit the thorns can be somewhat, shall we say…inconvenient?”

  Miss Bidewell’s face turned ashen, save for two bright-red splotches on her cheeks.

  Sabrina noted that Fairford’s expression had turned to one of amused appreciation.

  He acknowledged her triumph with a slight nod. “A woman of diverse interests is like a many-faceted jewel.”

  She allowed a smile to curve her lips—just a small one, the sort one gives a fellow conspirator when the prank has been played to its humorous end.

  But the butt of the joke wasn’t quite ready to concede just yet. “I understand you are sharing a box with Lord Montgomery this evening,” said Miss Bidewell, her voice filled with venom. “I hear he has visited Aylesford quite frequently over the past several weeks.”

  Sabrina’s smile remained unshaken. “His mother and mine were favorite companions in their youth. Mama has known him since he was born.”

  “How delightful for you to share such an intimate association,” said Miss Bidewell. “One must assume he also adores books, given his similar propensity for lurking in libraries,” she said pointedly. “Although I’m afraid he doesn’t seem quite the gardening type—”

  “Actually, I quite enjoy it,” answered Montgomery, stepping out of the shadows and walking down the steps to join them. “Sabrina, your mother is looking for you. I told her I thought you might have come out for a breath of air.”

  She started in surprise. How long had he been listening?

  “Indeed, we are dear friends,” he continued jovially. He turned to her, his eyes dancing with humor. “We share a great many interests, including horticulture. I’ve yet to show her my own garden, but I have every intention of doing so at the earliest possible opportunity.”

  Her heart sank. His insinuation could not be more clear. She winced inwardly as she looked to Fairford, expecting to see irritation. She was surprised, however, to see that his cheery smile remained.

  “Perhaps, Lady Sabrina, you would like to visit Wollaton Park?” the man calmly inquired. “The king himself has named it a veritable paradise on earth. I should be most pleased to share my bit of paradise with a fellow enthusiast.”

  “I should be delighted, of course,” she answered, jumping at the chance.

  “Then, naturally, you must visit anytime you like. I leave you w
ith an open invitation.”

  She could feel the animosity emanating from Montgomery, though his face was cast into shadow by the lamplight. She knew that, given half a chance, he would run Fairford through in an instant.

  “Sabrina?” All heads turned to see the Dowager Countess of Aylesford approaching. “Ah, there you are! And Henry. Lord Fairford and Miss Bidewell, a delight, as always.”

  Miss Bidewell curtseyed, as was proper, though it clearly galled her to do so.

  “No need for that, my dear,” said the countess. “When next you see her, do tell your mother that I have relayed to Lady Buxton the latest news regarding the ladies’ charity circle. Hadn’t we better all return to our seats? I believe the program is about to resume.”

  For once, Sabrina was glad for her mother’s interference—until Montgomery took her arm to lead her back into the theater. The crowd pressed in on all sides, forcing them into close contact. To her further annoyance, his fingers kept brushing hers as they lay atop his sleeve, sending little sparks of heat throughout her body.

  It was with great relief that Sabrina at last took her seat, grateful for the scant few inches of separation provided by the wooden arm of her chair.

  The lights dimmed, the curtain rose, and the music welled forth once again.

  Five minutes later, her mother quietly excused herself. Before Sabrina could rise to follow, Montgomery clamped a hand around her wrist. “The devil always promises paradise, Pest,” he whispered. “Just beware the snake in the garden.” He smirked. “I can almost guarantee that if you seek to pocket Fairford, you will most certainly be bitten.”

  “The only snake I see here is you,” she hissed back, struggling to wrench free.

  He grinned, coming closer. “My blood is anything but cold, as you well know. You should know that Fairford is out for conquest. He has no tender feelings for you.”

  “Then it is well that I am not even remotely interested in sentimental foolishness, as I’ve told you before,” she replied frostily, scooting as far away as possible. The arms of her chair, formerly looked upon as friends, now imprisoned her. “And he is not ‘cold,’ as you imply. He is quite nice. You simply fail to understand that a lady actually prefers a man’s demeanor to be proper and dignified. Unlike you, he knows how to behave like a gentleman.”