More or Less a Marchioness

by Anna Bradley

  Lord Edgemont raised his head and fixed his bleary gaze over Finn’s shoulder. “Derrick, too. Who’re you?” he asked, peering at Captain West.

  “West.”

  Captain West didn’t offer anything further, but a dim look of recognition crossed Lord Edgemont’s slack features. “What, that Waterloo bloke? For God’s sake, Claire. Half the bloody ton is here. Wrexley said it was just the three of us.”

  “Just the three of you for what?” Derrick asked, not bothering to hide his revulsion.

  Lord Edgemont belched, then, “Race, of course. Wrexley’s wagered high on some chit he’s got he says can best the two of us in a race. Damn fool, Wrexley, but it’s his coin, and I’m happy to take it from him.”

  Both Claire and Edgemont guffawed, and Finn, Derrick, and Captain West exchanged looks.

  “When’s the race?” Finn took care to keep his voice calm, but it took every bit of his control to keep from grabbing one of the scoundrels by the neck and shaking him until the truth fell out.

  So this was why Wrexley had been so fascinated to learn of Iris’s skills in the saddle, and so determined to see her ride Chaos. He’d sneaked her out on the horse this morning so he could judge her speed, and lay his wagers accordingly. Lords Edgemont and Claire had deep pockets, and both would scoff at the idea that a woman could beat them in a race. The purse must be enormous for Wrexley to take such a risk.

  “Now look here, Huntington,” Lord Edgemont said, his tone belligerent. “If you want in, then hand over your coin like the rest of us. Claire and I aren’t fools, you know.”

  Finn raised a skeptical eyebrow at that, but there was little point in arguing with a fool. “I know the rules of wagering, Edgemont. But you didn’t say when the race was to take place.”

  “Day after tomorrow, in the morning, a few miles from here. Wrexley’s coming to fetch us. I don’t know what we’re supposed to do in bloody Hampshire until then.” Lord Claire looked around the small village, scorn curling his lip. “No whores about. Nothing else for it but to get sotted.”

  Lord Derrick rolled his eyes. “Yes, what a wonderful plan, and it looks like you’re well on your way. But where’s Wrexley, in case we decide to wager?”

  Lord Edgemont looked confused for a moment, then he turned to Lord Claire. “Damn good question, Derrick. Where is Wrexley? He was supposed to meet us at the George and Dragon. We came out to look for him, but I don’t see him, and now I’m parched again from standing about in the sun.”

  “Perhaps he came in while you were out here. You’d better go check, hadn’t you?” Finn glanced at Derrick and Captain West. “We’ll wait right here for him, and if we see him, we’ll tell him where you are.”

  “Damn good idea, Huntington.” Lord Edgemont turned and staggered back toward the inn, and after a moment Lord Claire shrugged and followed after him.

  “The other side of the road if you please, gentlemen,” Captain West said. “If Wrexley sees us waiting here, he’ll bolt.”

  Finn and Derrick followed him across the street and the three of them took up positions in the shade of a tree, where they were partially obscured from anyone coming down the main road from Hadley House.

  They didn’t have to wait long. Wrexley came sauntering along not ten minutes later. Now he was out of sight of Hadley House, he dawdled as if he had all the time in the world. He brought his horse to a halt in front of the George and Dragon, but before he could dismount, Finn, Derrick, and Captain West crossed the street and surrounded him.

  “Good morning, Lord Wrexley.” Captain West gave him a pleasant smile. “Busy day for you already, and here it is about to get busier.”

  “No, don’t bother to dismount,” Lord Derrick added. “You won’t be able to meet your friends, after all. I doubt they’ll notice. They’re both already halfway to unconscious.”

  Lord Wrexley didn’t spare either of them a glance, but fixed his gaze on Finn. “So it’s to be this way, Huntington? You must be worried indeed about where the lady’s affections lie, if you’re willing to chase me out of Hampshire.”

  “Whatever it takes to get rid of you, Wrexley.”

  “It won’t be so easy to get rid of me in London, and I’ll be waiting for Miss Somerset when she returns.”

  “I doubt she’ll agree to see you. I told her about Miss Hughes.”

  Wrexley’s expression didn’t change, but his fingers went tight on the reins. “I’m surprised it took you this long, though I know you don’t like to talk about poor Miss Hughes and her unfortunate ruination. But you know, Huntington, Miss Somerset and I have been friends for some time now, and of course I’m her dear friend’s cousin, as well. I’m sure I can explain away any lingering doubts she has. So you see, this is hardly a victory for you. More like a temporary suspension in play.”

  “For God’s sake, Wrexley. Don’t you know when you’re beaten?” Captain West’s voice was heavy with disgust. “Lady Chase won’t let you within ten paces of her granddaughter when she finds out what you are, and you can be quite sure she will find out. I’ll make certain of it.”

  “Lady Chase will do whatever it takes to make her granddaughter happy, and it’s not as if Miss Somerset is still the belle of her season with an array of suitors kneeling at her feet. Now she’s just the foolish chit who jilted a marquess.” Wrexley swept a disparaging look over Finn. “She has few options left to her, and besides, the lady loves me.”

  Finn’s mouth went dry as crippling doubt threatened. Perhaps Iris really did love him. She wouldn’t be the first lady to succumb to Wrexley’s practiced charm.

  Wrexley must have seen the uneasiness on his face, because his lips stretched in a triumphant smile. “Don’t tell me you actually thought she loved you, Huntington.”

  “Enough,” Lord Derrick growled, before Wrexley could say another word. “Let’s go. We’ll see you on the road toward Alton, just to be polite, of course.”

  “My things—”

  “Don’t worry, Wrexley. I’ll send a servant with them.” Captain West’s tone was clipped. “I’d just as soon you never set foot in my house again.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Iris didn’t go look for Charlotte, as Lord Huntington had bade her. She didn’t enter the breakfast parlor either, though she could hear the low murmur of feminine voices and knew she’d find Violet and Honora there.

  She couldn’t confide in her friends without first offering some sort of explanation for the snarled web of secrets she’d become enmeshed in, and she couldn’t do that. Not yet. She’d only just begun to untangle the fragile threads of the truth from the lies, and she couldn’t explain to them what she didn’t understand herself.

  Only one thing was clear in her head.

  She’d been wrong about Lord Wrexley.

  A part of her wanted to believe Lord Huntington was lying—about the wager, and the reason Lady Beaumont was in Lady Fairchild’s garden that day, and now about Miss Hughes—but she knew he wasn’t. Perhaps he could hide some secrets behind the shifting colors of his eyes, but he wasn’t a liar. There’d been nothing but naked truth in those hazel depths just now.

  She’d been wrong about Lord Huntington, too.

  About Finn.

  “Good morning, Iris. Where have you been off to so early?”

  Iris was standing at the bottom of the stairs, staring at them without seeing them, but she turned at the sound of Lady Annabel’s voice.

  “I wondered why I didn’t see you in the breakfast parlor—” Lady Annabel began, but as soon as she saw the look on Iris’s face, she took her arm and hurried her down the hallway. “Come with me.”

  Iris didn’t resist, but let Lady Annabel tug her along toward Charlotte’s private sitting room.

  “Sit.” Lady Annabel turned to ring the bell as Iris sank into one of the plump chairs in front of the fireplace.

  “Tea, pl
ease, if you would, Mary,” Lady Annabel said, when the maid appeared. Once the servant had gone again, Lady Annabel took the seat opposite Iris, but she didn’t say a word until Mary had returned with the tea tray and disappeared again, closing the door behind her.

  “I gather from the expression on your face this isn’t about School of Venus.”

  Iris shook her head.

  “Pity. I have a suspicion it would be much easier if it were.” Lady Annabel fetched a teacup from the tray, poured Iris some tea, and then set the cup down in front of her. “Drink some tea, Iris. You need a restorative.”

  Iris took an obedient sip of her tea. “I was wrong, Lady Annabel.”

  Lady Annabel didn’t look in the least surprised to hear it. “Yes, I imagined that would happen at some point. Love affairs are complicated enough with one gentleman, and you’ve had to manage two of them. Your rate of error rises accordingly, I’m afraid. Who were you wrong about? Lord Wrexley, or Lord Huntington?”

  Iris opened her mouth to say Lord Wrexley, but she bit the words back before his name could leave her lips. She’d been wrong about him, yes, but Lord Huntington was the man she’d truly wronged.

  Shame made her avoid Lady Annabel’s eyes. “Both of them.”

  Lady Annabel sighed. “Look at me, Iris.”

  Iris looked up to find Lady Annabel’s steady, calm gaze on her face. “If you recall, I did warn you this could become complicated.”

  “But…I thought you meant the other part, about the…the…” Iris’s face heated. “Well, you know.”

  “Oh, no. The physical part is fairly straightforward, though if one is lucky, not lacking in variety. But love—well, I’m afraid that’s much more complex.”

  Iris stared at her. Love? Which of the two gentlemen in question did Lady Annabel suppose she was in love with?

  Not Lord Wrexley.

  The thought came out of nowhere.

  No. Surely not—

  “I suppose you’ve discovered what a scoundrel Lord Wrexley is?”

  Iris choked on the sip of tea she’d just taken. “You knew Lord Wrexley was a scoundrel, all this time?”

  “Of course. I’m a wicked widow, Iris. I know a scoundrel when I see one.”

  “But why didn’t you just tell me, then?” Iris dumped her teacup on the tray with a clatter. “It would have saved me so much fuss and bother.”

  Lady Annabel arched one blond eyebrow. “Would you have believed me?”

  “I…well, of course I would have at least listened, even if I didn’t—”

  The eyebrow inched up another notch. “Didn’t Lord Huntington tell you Lord Wrexley was a scoundrel?”

  Iris’s lips turned down in a sulky frown. “Yes.”

  “Did you believe him?”

  Goodness, it was unpleasant to admit it when one was wrong. “Not entirely.”

  “No, you wouldn’t, would you? No one can convince a lady a gentleman is a scoundrel. It’s the sort of determination she must come to on her own, and it sounds as though you have. I suppose Lord Huntington’s told you about Miss Hughes?”

  Iris’s mouth fell open. “Miss Hughes! He said only a few people knew her story. Why, even Lady Honora doesn’t know, and Lord Wrexley is her cousin!”

  Lady Annabel sighed, and set her teacup aside. “Diana’s story isn’t widely known, and Lord Huntington isn’t aware of my connection to her family. Her mother, Lady Farrington, and I grew up together. We were dear friends, and Miss Hughes was something of a niece to me, though not by blood.”

  Dear God, what a tangle. How had a simple house party turned into a drama worthy of the London stage? “But neither Lord Wrexley nor Lord Huntington act as if they know you.”

  “They don’t. Miss Hughes’s unfortunate association with Lord Wrexley took place after I’d married. I was living in Derbyshire and heard of it all through letters from her mother. I can assure you, Iris, Lord Wrexley is as guilty as Lord Huntington claims he is.”

  Iris fell back against her chair, shaking her head. “What a fool I am. Lord Huntington tried to warn me about him, but I didn’t believe him.”

  “You’re not a fool. Lord Wrexley is a skilled dissembler who exploited your innocence for his own gain. But scoundrels like Lord Wrexley don’t interest me much. Once their perfidy has been revealed, they become nothing more than tedious caricatures of themselves. I think we’ve said all we need say about him.”

  “I hope I can forget him as easily as you can.”

  “You will. But I’m pleased Lord Huntington has told you the truth about him at last. I’ve been waiting for him to do so all week. I’d begun to worry I’d have to tell you myself.”

  Iris lapsed into a pensive silence as she stared into the fire. When he’d told her he’d been betrothed before, and that he’d loved Miss Hughes, the strangest sinking sensation had squeezed her heart. Perhaps he loved her still. Perhaps a lingering loyalty to Miss Hughes was the reason he wanted to marry a lady he didn’t care for.

  “He told me he never talks about it.”

  “No, he doesn’t. Otherwise such a scandal couldn’t have been kept secret for so long. Lord Huntington has his flaws, just as we all do, but he’s an honorable gentleman, Iris. Not a simple gentleman, or an easy one, but an honorable one.”

  “Perhaps, but he’s distant and difficult to talk to.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard people say so, though I find him to be a touch awkward and shy more than anything else.”

  “Shy? He’s a marquess!”

  “His title is irrelevant, Iris. When all the trappings are stripped away, he’s simply a man, just like any other.”

  “He’s cold and detached. Don’t you think he’s cold and detached?” Iris was beginning to feel quite desperate.

  Lady Annabel leaned forward in her chair and gave Iris a long, stern look. “Tell me, Iris. How many gentlemen do you know who’d marry a lady who’d been ruined by another man? Who’d go to the trouble to arrange a marriage for that lady, after she’d betrayed his trust in such a hurtful way? Miss Hughes committed a grave offence against Lord Huntington, and he would have been more than justified in letting her suffer the consequences of it. He didn’t—he saved her instead. Does that sound like something a cold, detached man would do?”

  It didn’t. Of course it didn’t. “No.”

  “And what of you, Iris? You jilted him. Perhaps you were justified in doing so, but he would have been equally justified in never giving you another thought after that. What must it have taken, do you suppose, for a proud man like Lord Huntington to chase you to Hampshire, and offer for you a second time to protect you from a scoundrel like Lord Wrexley? Again, do those sound like the actions of a cold, detached man?”

  “No.” Iris’s cheeks burned with shame. “I’ve been unbearably selfish, haven’t I?”

  “No. You’ve been unbearably young and inexperienced, and there’s nothing to be ashamed of in that, but now it’s time for you to behave like a woman, Iris, not a girl. As I said before, Lord Huntington isn’t an easy man. Do you understand what I mean by that?”

  Iris was beginning to understand, but her intuition whispered when it came to Lord Huntington she’d hardly peeked under the surface. “He’s strong-willed.”

  “Yes, he is. But then so are you. You’re well-matched in that way.”

  “He’s overbearing and domineering. Controlling.”

  Lady Annabel smiled. “Both in and out of the bedchamber, if Lady Beaumont can be believed. He needs a lady who can manage him, certainly.”

  Iris thought of his flashing hazel eyes, his low, commanding voice, his stern jaw, and a shiver ran down her spine. “I haven’t the vaguest idea how to manage such a man.”

  “I’m surprised to hear you say that, Iris, since you’ve been managing Lord Huntington since you arrived at Hadley House.”

  Ir
is’s mouth fell open, and she regarded Lady Annabel in shock. “Why, what have I done to manage him? He lectured me for running races with Lord Wrexley, and he forbade me from riding Chaos, as if he had a right to forbid me anything, and—I didn’t tell you this, Lady Annabel—but he tried to take School of Venus away from me last night, as well.”

  “And did he?”

  “No. I, ah…I took it back from him.” Iris didn’t explain how she’d gotten it back. Lady Annabel was a wicked widow, yes, and likely wouldn’t be shocked, but Iris was still a bit shocked herself over what she’d done.

  “What about the horse?” Lady Annabel swept a meaningful look over Iris’s riding habit.

  “I rode Chaos this morning.”

  “Ah. And the race?”

  A hesitant smile touched Iris’s lips. “I told him it would do him good to race himself, and then I said…I believe I told him I’d bent one of my stays.”

  Lady Annabel laughed. “It’s no wonder he’s so enamored of you.”

  Iris’s smile faded. “I don’t know that he is.”

  Lady Annabel moved to the edge of her chair, reached over, and took Iris’s hand. “He’s here, isn’t he? He’s here, and he’s made it clear he wishes to marry you.”

  “Out of obligation, Lady Annabel, not love.”

  “Do you truly believe that?”

  Iris shook her head. She wasn’t sure what she believed anymore. “I don’t know. I’d ask you to help me untangle it, but you’ll say this is one of those decisions only I can make, won’t you?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid so, but I will say this. It would be something special indeed to have the heart of a man like Lord Huntington entrusted to your keeping. I believe you’re strong enough to understand the value of it, and to do justice to it, but you’ll have to help him, Iris. He didn’t grow up surrounded by love, as you did. His childhood was a lonely one, and he won’t always know how to go on.”

  Iris frowned, remembering something Lord Wrexley had told her. “Was there some scandal—something to do with his mother?”