Yesterday, he’d have seated Alexandria and then taken off to make plans with the woman.
But now as he met her eyes, and the eyes of any other woman, who tried to catch his attention, instead of encouraging anything, he looked away. He was not in the mood to arrange one meaningless rendezvous after another.
Suddenly, it angered him that none of them would ever think him good for anything but bedsport.
Why? Why did his stomach burn at the thought?
During his months in prison, he’d longed for many things. He’d nearly become a glutton of anything and everything he’d been denied, once he was released. Working for Lord Iverstone had gained him the means to take what he would, and forget the consequences.
So, why the hesitation now?
Was it because he’d found out that if things had been different, he’d have been an earl, himself? That these women who only wished for a night with him would have wanted so much more, if they knew the truth?
“Oh! Look, Lady Brandell, it’s Mr. Smith.” Sam was suddenly at his side, smiling at him, and just that look alone, had the power to settle him.
And his heart lurched when he caught sight of her. The dark color of her dress made her body seem curvier and her skin glowed, seeming teasingly soft. She wasn’t as pale as the other women, either. Instead, she had a dusting of gold that he appreciated. There was nothing sensual about the gaze she gave him. Instead, the beauty of her eyes shone with genuine warmth. Almost as though she saw him as a person, and not a bastard.
When Lady Brandell looked up at him, Nash prepared himself for the worst. A cut. A glare. A word or two about his seeming to always be about.
Instead, she nodded. “Mr. Smith. I didn’t know you appreciated musical arts?” She lifted a brow, as if she truly wished to know his answer.
Nash was too stunned to speak.
“Nash,” Alex said at his side. “Introduce me.”
“Lady Chantenny, this is Lady Brandell and Lady Samantha Coburn.”
The women all curtseyed one to another.
“I’m afraid I have no great fondness for the theatre,” Nash confessed, deciding he’d not lie to his mother, even if he suspected it would please her. “But I’m duty bound to go wherever my sister asks.”
Alexandria laughed. “Quite true.”
Lady Brandell looked away, but a ghost of a smile touched her lips. She looked lively and a few years younger with that one look, but it was quickly dashed away as though she’d forbidden herself such pleasures as a simple smile, forbidden herself from happiness.
The other women who surrounded the group quickly joined in, each trying to gain either Alexandria’s approval, or prove the merits of concerts to Nash. They were joined by a few of friends Alex had made throughout her time as a countess, when the announcement was made that the musical was about to begin.
Nash started to lead Alexandria to her seat but stilled at the sight of a man he needed to speak to. “I’ll join you in a moment,” he said to his sister, who was walking amongst her friends. “Save my seat.”
She nodded and then turned to continue to speak to someone.
Nash cut in the other direction.
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6
CHAPTER
SIX
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Sam’s eyes remained on Nash as he moved through the crowd, unable to get over how good he looked in his clothing. She’d never seen a club manager, or even a teacher of any kind, dress as well as him. His waistcoat was a deep blue, which managed to make his irises look an even more startling color. It had been no wonder she’d found him amongst a crowd of women. No matter how much the ladies pretended to be there to speak to Lady Chantenny, it was Nash who drew the eye.
Just as he did now.
“I detest musicals as well,” Lady Brandell commented. “I don’t understand why Agnes thought it important for us to come tonight. I can’t think what it has to do with the charity.” Agnes was Lady Selby’s given name.
Sam turned her head back to Lady Brandell as they drew closer to their own group. Lady Selby’s charity ladies were with her. “Lady Selby asked you to come, because getting to know the women will help your voice be heard when you wish to share your ideas.”
She turned back to get a final glimpse at Nash, and noticed he was heading in her direction.
She stilled as he approached, but he stopped before the Duke of Brayton. Brayton was accompanying his aunt, Lady Charles, who was a member of the charity as well.
Brayton was also a friend of Lord Selby, and undoubtedly had gone on that fishing trip.
Sam whispered to Lady Brandell, “Stay with Lady Selby. I’ll return to you in a moment.”
“Where are you going?” Lady Brandell frowned at her. “You’re supposed to stay with me.”
Sam lifted a brow and smiled. “You mean you actually want my company?”
Lady Brandell stiffened and then turned away. “Take your time.” She disappeared beyond the doors, and Sam turned to join Nash and Brayton in the nearly empty hallway.
“I’m not sure why this concerns you, Mr. Smith,” Brayton was saying to Nash. “Selby is an earl, and wherever he’s gone is truly no one’s business but his own. Now, I was kind to Lady Selby when she approached me on the matter, but the point remains that Lord Selby has no need to answer to her, either. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my aunt is waiting.” He turned to go.
Sam blocked his way. “Your Grace.” She gave him her best and lowest curtsy and then looked up to find his annoyed expression fade into something more on the lines of appreciation.
“Lady Coburn. You shouldn’t be alone in such places. Any number of fiends might think to take advantage of you.” Brayton had lovely dark blue eyes and was a very handsome man, but if there were any fiends to worry about in the hall, he was definitely one. He, like so many others of his rank, had made it clear that he’d take her for a mistress.
Samantha pushed down her own growing anger at his arrogance.
“Lady Selby is truly worried,” she went on. “Perhaps you’ve heard from her only son?”
Brayton’s eyes softened, but she wasn’t sure if he was the effect of her words, or her person, that caused it. “I’ve not heard from him.”
“Perhaps you could speak to his state of mind when he left the party?” Nash said.
He glanced in Nash’s direction and then frowned at her. “Is he with you, Lady Coburn?”
Sam’s eyes widened, knowing what his words were implying. “You saw me arrive with Lady Brandell, Your Grace.”
Her words didn’t seem to clear up his suspicion, if his look was any indication.
“Your Grace,” Nash called. “I hope you’re not trying to sully Lady Samantha’s name with false rumors.” And the look that came over Nash’s face dared the man, duke or not.
Samantha was taken aback when she noticed the way Nash stiffened, as if ready to use his hands, if necessary. It was in that moment Samantha realized just how dangerous Nash was, compared to the man who held an ancient title.
Brayton seemed surprised as well, and quickly covered up his fear with a glare. “You can’t ruin something that’s already damaged.”
The words nearly brought Samantha to her knees. Her face went hot, and her mouth gaped. She looked at Nash and found him to be staring at her with confusion. She turned away before it was disgust she saw next, and started away.
He grabbed her arm and forced her to turn back around, but she refused to meet either man’s eyes as Nash spoke. “That was quite callous of you. I’d have thought you a better man, one above such foulness.”
“How dare you?” Brayton asked, as the musical began. The sound of violins accompanied their words. “You’re a commoner. You can’t speak to me this way.”
“Then perhaps you forget who I work for. The Duke of Iverstone. He’d likely not take kindly to this offense either, and Iverston
e has a way of showing his displeasure, does he not?”
There was a beat of silence, and Samantha once again tried to move away, but Nash wouldn’t let her. She was confused by what was happening. She’d heard very little about the Duke of Iverstone, except that he was Scottish, and not English. What did Nash mean by his words?
“I apologize, my lady.”
Sam’s head snapped up to look at Brayton.
His face actually showed true remorse. “I... shouldn’t have spoken to you in such a way. I was… angry. Please accept my apology.”
She nodded, trying to hold back her tears. She couldn’t have thought of a worse situation to be in, or why having her sins— sins she’d never committed— spoken in front of Nash. She wasn’t even sure why it mattered, except she had a feeling he’d never look at her the same again.
Brayton spoke to Nash, then, “Mark was in a rush when he left the trip. It’s all I know.” Mark was Lord Selby’s first name.
Nash let her go and her arm felt instantly cold. “Your other friends said you walked outside with him before he set off. Did he say anything to you?”
Sam finally looked over at Nash to see his expression grim. She’d wondered what he’d been up to, since he’d not come by the house yesterday. She nearly thought he’d forgotten about his plans to help Lady Brandell, but apparently not.
Brayton frowned. “You spoke to James and Harry?”
“Lady Selby is worried, your Grace,” Nash said. “If any harm comes to Lord Selby…”
Brayton frowned and looked away. He seemed in thought for a moment, and then shook his head before looking at Lady Selby. “She can’t hear this.”
Nash turned to her. “Wait for me by the door and I’ll escort you to Lady Brandell.”
She frowned. “I want to hear what happened.”
Brayton cut in. “Yes, but a woman who wishes to cling to her good reputation knows when to step away.”
Color returned to Sam’s cheeks and she turned to leave, but instead of remaining by the door, she went inside and found Lady Brandell, on her own. There was no need to stay around and have Nash ask her one question after another about Brayton’s implications.
She tried listening to the soft music, but found it impossible to enjoy when she was in turmoil.
Nash would have discovered the truth eventually, wouldn’t he? With three members of his small family now holding titles, it was only a matter of time before one of them heard about her.
“Are you all right, dear?” Lady Brandell asked.
Sam didn’t look her way, but lowered her tight shoulders and sighed. “I’m fine.”
A second later, she was surprised when Lady Brandell patted her hand. Then the feeling was gone, and the woman was once again listening to the music, or in her own thoughts, which was more likely, by her serious expression.
Again, Sam wondered at the workings of the woman’s mind.
Another minute later, she’d calmed enough to enjoy the musical. She’d been to a few in Oakmont, but this was her first in London, now that Lady Brandell felt inclined to stay close to Lady Selby. How unfortunate it was the disappearance of Lord Selby that had brought all of this about.
Once again, Nash had proven himself honorable by coming to her defense in the face of a duke, but she still feared what Brayton was currently saying. The fiend.
Yet, hadn’t she only nights ago been thinking about ruining herself where Nash was concerned?
It was best she stayed far away from Mr. Smith.
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7
CHAPTER
SEVEN
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“Give me a good reason I shouldn’t throttle you right here,” Nash hissed at the Duke of Brayton.
Brayton crossed his arms. “Throttle me over her? You clearly don’t know what sort of woman she is. She—”
Nash hit the duke before anything else left his mouth.
Brayton fell to the carpeted floor with a small thud.
A servant peeked around a corner as Nash knelt over the duke. He looked at the footman who approached. “It’s all right. The gentleman simply slipped. I’ve got him.” He made sure his gaze was unyielding, and the footman soon disappeared the way he came.
Brayton had lifted his head and kept his face away from the footman’s sight, likely trying to hide his identity from embarrassment. He held his jaw. “How dare you. I’ll have you imprisoned for this.”
Nash leaned over him and said, “Very well, but do you think Newgate will give me my same room, if I asked kindly?”
The duke’s gray eyes widened. “You’ve been to Newgate?” He frowned. “Well, of course you have. You’re one of Iverstone’s thugs, are you?”
“Among other things.” Iverstone owned a boxing club and was very talented at the skill himself, but that talent hadn’t been developed while sparring with friends. Iverstone was ruthless, but less cruel than Avon. Iverstone didn’t make threats. He skipped that part and ruined a man before anyone knew otherwise.
Yesterday, Nash had asked the duke blankly if he’d had a hand in Lord Selby’s disappearance, because after all, Selby had been a patron of the club, and could have offended the duke in some way. Iverstone had his own sort of prison where he kept those who needed time to see the errors of their way. Nash held keys to that area, which was ironically located underneath the club. He was a manager, after all, and had taken men from all ranks to that very place. It was yet another job he did for the duke.
Iverstone claimed himself innocent when Nash had inquired. Believing the Scotsman, who never had reason to lie, Nash had spoken to two of Selby’s other friends. Only Brayton had been difficult to find.
“What did Lord Selby say to you?” Nash asked.
“He was visiting a woman,” Brayton said. “A girl he visited frequently.”
Nash narrowed his eyes. “Where does she live?”
“I don’t know.” Brayton’s look was menacing. “A note arrived, and he dashed off. She was likely of low quality. That’s how Mark liked his women, unlike myself.”
Nash recalled the first look Brayton had given Sam, the one that had been coated with lust, and instantly came to an understanding. Brayton liked ladies, which could be a dangerous game, considering that he was unwed. Any lady he touched could demand that he make an honest woman of her, which made Nash wonder why no lady had come to do so, as of yet.
A question for another day.
He was getting more out of Brayton than he’d gathered from the other men. For the woman to have known where to send a note, likely meant Selby was close to her, perhaps important. Especially if he was willing to dash off and leave his friends at her beckoning. “Do you know what the note said?”
Brayton shook his head. “But one could only guess. Perhaps he got the chit with child. Can’t imagine what else would cause her to call him away from a trip with his friends.”
Nash thought about that, but with the little he knew about Selby, he couldn’t see if this was the case, or not. He’d have to talk to someone who knew him better. Should he speak to Lady Selby? This was something one discussed with a man’s mother. Even Nash, who’d just met his, knew that.
Nash helped Brayton onto his feet. “You know nothing else about his woman?”
He shook his head. “Not a thing.” He looked past Nash and sighed. “My tastes run vastly different from his. Or rather, they had, until Lady Coburn came along.” His eyes returned to Nash’s. “Even Lord Selby found himself attracted to her, thought to court her until he found out the truth of her. Still, she’s a hard woman to resist, is she not? But Selby isn’t the sort to keep mistresses, so it was easy for me to tell him to stay clear of her.” He lifted a brow. “Do you have plans for the woman yourself? Is that the reason for her hostility?”
It took everything within Nash not to strike the duke again, but now there were servants in the hall, and he had to re
strain himself.
Brayton, as if knowing why Nash was reining himself in, said, “Maybe it was Lady Coburn who called Lord Selby back. After all, Lady Brandell and Lady Selby are close friends. She’d have met him a time or two. Maybe she knows more than she’s willing to say.” And with that, he turned and left.
Nash had no clue what the rumors about Sam were about, but he wasn’t a fool. She’d obviously slept with someone, and word had found its way to the drawing rooms of the ton. He felt pity for her, especially knowing how kind she was. She clearly cared for his mother, and Nash didn’t blindly think Lady Brandell’s sudden civility to him was of his own doing. Sam had spoken to her on his behalf.
Once Upon an Earl_Heirs of High Society_A Regency Romance Book Page 6
