The Lady Travelers Guide to Scoundrels and Other Gentlemen

by Victoria Alexander

  “Without question,” Ned said firmly. “Refusing to see you again is what Celia believes to be the right thing to do. And at the moment it probably is. But she is an intelligent woman. Once you are no longer engaged to Katherine, Celia will realize that the reasons you can’t be together no longer exist.”

  “Are you sure?” For the first time tonight, the smallest spark of hope flickered inside him.

  “One can never be completely sure with women. They are odd, curious creatures who cannot be fully understood or predicted. Especially when they are in love. But with a bit of persistence and determination, I do think there’s a very good chance that you can win her back.” He met his brother’s gaze directly. “I know you, Henry. You may well be able to eventually accept going back on your word but you’ll never forgive yourself for not fighting for the woman you love.”

  Day Five

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “I NEVER WOULD have imagined that we had it wrong.” Gwen paced the width of the library, doing her best to avoid Edward, who paced the length.

  “I must say, I don’t like being wrong,” Edward muttered. “It’s not the first time of course, but I don’t like it. My father never made mistakes. He was, well, infallible. The perfect earl, if you will.”

  Whose shoes were no doubt incredibly difficult to fill.

  “Perfect or not, I daresay even an infallible earl would fail to suspect an ambitious female would be more interested in social position than in wealth.” Gwen still found it difficult to believe that Katherine would choose social position over money.

  “There has to be a way to maneuver the woman into throwing Henry over.”

  “But Katherine wants something that isn’t entirely within her reach.” Gwen pulled up short. “Good Lord, she is as much a gambler as her father. She’s betting you will not have an heir other than Henry.”

  “Or she’s wagering I’ll die.” He shuddered. “And sooner rather than later, I suspect.”

  “Perhaps we should be sitting outside your room at night?”

  “Oh, would you, Gwen?” He cast her a wicked smile.

  “Stop that, Edward.” She choked back a laugh. “This is serious.”

  “I am serious.”

  “No wonder you have a less-than-spotless reputation.”

  “Had a less-than-spotless reputation,” he said firmly. “I have reformed a great deal in recent years. Responsibilities of the position and all.”

  “Regardless, I have never met anyone as flirtatious as you.”

  “Thank you,” he said in a most immodest manner. “It’s a gift.”

  “Pity you haven’t put that gift to better use. If you had found a wife, you might already have a son and heir, and Katherine would have no reason at all to marry Henry.”

  Edward stared. “That’s it!”

  “What’s it?”

  “If there was another heir, Katherine’s hopes would be dashed.”

  “Yes, well, as clever as that is—” she rolled her gaze toward the ceiling “—you don’t have a son and I doubt that you can come up with one by tomorrow.”

  “But when a man has the kind of reputation I had, it’s not at all uncommon for a previously unknown heir to pop up.”

  “Edward—” she chose her words with care “—it’s one thing to spread a few rumors about the state of your finances. Those will easily disperse when it’s obvious your fortune is sound. But gossip about an heir will cling to you forever and cast doubts about your right to the title.” She shook her head. “I don’t think that’s the least bit wise.”

  “Probably not.” He thought for a moment. “Unless...”

  “Dear Lord, I know I am going to regret asking.” She braced herself. “Unless what?”

  “Unless it’s not my heir.” A slow, satisfied grin spread across his face. “It’s brilliant and it will work. I’m certain of it.” He narrowed his eyes. “Katherine doesn’t know anything at all about my family, does she?”

  “I have no idea, although I suspect the only inquiries she might have made would have been about the size of your income.” She drew her brows together. “I haven’t noticed her taking any particular interest in Danby itself or asking about any of those endless portraits of ancestors you have hanging on the wall.”

  “Excellent.” He beamed.

  “Why?”

  “You shall see. Just remember—” he chuckled “—the play’s the thing.”

  The annoying man was certainly enjoying himself.

  “Very well, Edward, as long as you remember, at the end of Hamlet—” she crossed her arms over her chest and met his gaze directly “—all the principal characters are dead.”

  Day Six

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “HAS YOUR BROTHER told you what this is all about?” Mrs. Blodgett said quietly to Henry. Once again, she was seated beside him for luncheon.

  “I’m afraid not.” What was his brother up to now? “I would imagine this is all part of his plan.”

  A table had been set up out-of-doors under a billowing canopy some distance from the front drive. An unfamiliar carriage waited near the front entry.

  “As no doubt is his insistence on having luncheon here.” Her brow furrowed. “But why on the front lawns rather than the terrace? Although, with Danby in the background, it is rather scenic.”

  “All he said to me was that the day before my wedding was a special occasion. It should be spent under blue skies in front of our ancestral home.”

  “That’s rather poetic of him.”

  “I know. I find it highly suspicious.” Henry shook his head. “Ned instructed me to behave as normally as possible but also said I should keep my mouth shut, no matter what happened. That I should not question, deny or confirm. I should act as if I know absolutely nothing, which shouldn’t be difficult as I know absolutely nothing.”

  “Oh, that doesn’t bode well.”

  “Apparently, my brother doesn’t think I’m particularly good at deceit.”

  Mrs. Blodgett cast him a worried look. “I do hope Edward is as clever as he thinks he is.”

  “My dear Mrs. Blodgett,” Henry said drily. “Nobody could possibly be.”

  “He wouldn’t give me any details but he is shockingly smug about whatever he has in mind. He did ask me to make certain everyone was in attendance.” Mrs. Blodgett glanced down the long table. All those staying at Danby were here including Celia. “And he said I would know what to do when the time came.”

  “And will you?”

  “I have no idea. I hope so.” She frowned. “He does tend to be a bit theatrical but I do wish I knew exactly what he was planning. One does like to be prepared.”

  “Apparently, my brother has a great deal of confidence in you.” He chuckled. “He describes you as diabolical, you know.”

  “Does he really?” She grinned. “How perfectly lovely of him. I quite like that.” Her smile faded. “Edward also told me that if his plan doesn’t work, you were prepared to do what was necessary.”

  He tightened his jaw. “I will.”

  “You know, Henry—” she laid a hand on his arm and looked into his eyes “—it’s not dishonorable to go back on your word when abiding by it would cause more harm than good.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Blodgett.” He shrugged. “I keep telling myself that.”

  His gaze wandered to Celia. She had not once looked in his direction. When this was all over, when he was free...

  “Who do you think that is?” Mrs. Higginbotham said from across the table. She peered around Henry for a better view of the house.

  Everyone at the table turned and stared.

  Ned stood on the front steps accompanied by a red-haired woman and a young boy. Was it the same woman his brother had met at the ball? The A
merican? Henry clenched his teeth. This was not the most appropriate day for Ned to be engaged in a new flirtation. But why on earth would the woman have a child with her? Ned escorted them to the carriage and they exchanged a few words. At this distance it was impossible to tell if their conversation was amicable or merely polite.

  Ned handed the woman and the boy into the carriage. He clasped his hands behind his back and watched as it drove away. Even from here, there looked to be a distinct edge of defeat about him.

  “What is he doing?” Miss Quince asked.

  “Well, he’s watching the carriage drive off, obviously.” Mrs. Higginbotham scoffed.

  “He doesn’t look at all happy,” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore said.

  “No, he doesn’t, does he?” Mrs. Blodgett cast Henry a pointed look.

  Ned strode toward them looking remarkably ill at ease. Even distraught.

  Henry got to his feet. “What is it, Ned?”

  “I’ve just had some, well, disturbing news.” Ned shook his head in a mournful manner.

  Viscount Bromley stood up. “Would you prefer to be alone, Danby?”

  “No, no, we’re all to be family soon enough. You should hear this as it affects all of us.” Ned heaved an overly dramatic sigh.

  “What is this about, Edward?” A hard note edged Katherine’s words.

  “It’s about...” Ned paused in the manner of a master storyteller. His gaze flicked to Henry’s. “Charles.”

  “Charles?” Henry said without thinking.

  Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore gasped. “Not your Charles, Gwen?”

  “No, no, of course not.” Mrs. Blodgett looked at Ned. “It isn’t my Charles, is it?”

  Ned stared. “You have a Charles?”

  “Yes.” Mrs. Blodgett huffed. “My husband’s name is Charles.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” Ned shook his head. “It’s not that Charles.”

  “Then which Charles is it?” Louise asked.

  “How many Charleses are there?” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore’s gaze skipped around the gathering as if she expected Charleses to come out from every corner.

  “Apparently at least two. But the Charles I’m referring to is—” he slanted a quick look at Henry and sighed again “—our older brother.”

  Shocked gasps swept through the gathering except for Mrs. Blodgett, who—while looking as somber as possible—could not quite hide the twinkle of amusement in her eyes. Ned was right—she would know what to do when the time came.

  “Ah, yes.” Henry shook his head woefully, assuming that was the right thing to do. He might be the good brother but he was no less clever than his twin. Unless he was sadly mistaken, he had a fair idea of what Ned was doing. “Poor Charles.”

  “What older brother?” Katherine jumped to her feet. “You don’t have an older brother.”

  “Not anymore.” Ned sniffed back a tear.

  Mrs. Blodgett choked then wiped her eye. Her dramatic bent was as pronounced as his brother’s.

  “Charles was five—”

  Mrs. Blodgett cleared her throat. Ned was terrible at mathematics.

  “—fifteen years our senior and left home more than a decade ago. He and father had a dreadful falling out. Father disowned him—or threatened to anyway. And Charles left, went to America. A few years later we heard he was dead.”

  “And was he?” Celia stared, fascinated.

  Ned looked appropriately startled. “Well, yes.”

  “So who was that woman?” Louise looked every bit as fascinated as Celia.

  “It appears...” Again Ned paused. He was getting very good at this. “That woman was Charles’s wife.”

  Miss Quince clapped a hand to her cheek. “Surely not.”

  Ned shrugged. “I’m afraid so. She has all the appropriate documentation.”

  Katherine’s face paled. “Then you’re not—”

  “The earl?” Ned shook his head. “Apparently it’s the boy. That was—” he hesitated in the manner of an overly dramatic storyteller about to reveal a point of great importance “—Charles’s son.”

  A sharp intake of breath sounded from nearly everyone at the table. Celia’s gaze met Henry’s, her eyes wide with shock.

  “I don’t believe you,” Katherine said staunchly. “I’ve never heard of any brother.”

  “Come now, Katherine. It’s understandable that they don’t talk about him. He left under difficult circumstances,” Mrs. Blodgett said coolly. “And he’s dead.”

  “But...” Katherine’s gaze darted from Ned to Henry and back. “But I saw you talking to that woman at the ball. You certainly didn’t look like she was telling you anything of importance at all. In fact, it looked a great deal like you were engaged in a serious flirtation.”

  “And I was.” He shook his head. “I found her most delightful. But I had no idea who she was. She didn’t reveal her true identity until she arrived here today. With Charles’s son.” He swallowed hard. “The Earl of Danby.”

  For a long moment no one said a word.

  “This is absurd and I have had quite enough.” Katherine glared at Ned. “Edward, you are an idiot.”

  Ned stared. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Katherine,” Henry snapped. She was still his fiancée, after all. “I will not have you speaking to my brother in that manner.”

  She ignored him, directing her comments to Ned. “First, you lose all your money and now you’ve lost your title.”

  “Apparently he never really had it,” Mrs. Higginbotham said in an aside to Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore.

  “I want no part of any of this.” Katherine turned to Henry. “Very well, Henry, you are pleasant enough, I suppose, but you’re right. We do not suit. I was certainly willing to overlook that in light of your other excellent qualities but as those excellent qualities no longer exist—I agree. This marriage is a mistake. Furthermore, I have no desire to ever set eyes on you again. I assume you are agreeable to that and there shall be no overt fuss about this?”

  “We shall put out that this was a mutual decision,” Henry said. “There shall be no blame placed on either side.”

  “That’s something, at any rate.” She glanced at the viscount. “Father?”

  “Yes, of course.” The viscount hurried to his daughter’s side and offered her his arm. He glanced at Ned. “We’ll be leaving Danby as soon as possible.”

  Ned shrugged apologetically. “I think that’s wise.”

  His lordship nodded. He and his oldest daughter started toward the house, Miss Quince, Louise and Celia trailing behind. Celia tossed a quick look over her shoulder at her aunt but Henry couldn’t see her face. He had no idea what she was thinking.

  They were almost to the door before anyone said a word.

  “I should go after her, shouldn’t I?” Henry said.

  “What a lovely romantic impulse, Henry, but no.” Mrs. Blodgett shook her head. “You should not. Give her some time to grasp all that’s happened.” She paused. “You do realize she doesn’t know the truth about your finances or your—” she cleared her throat “—brother.”

  “Nor does she need to.”

  She shot him a hard look. “Don’t make this a test, Henry. That sort of thing is prone to misinterpretation and never turns out well.”

  Heat rushed up his face. “No, of course not.”

  Mrs. Blodgett favored him with a sympathetic smile. “Well, no one expects you to be thinking clearly at the moment.”

  “I beg your pardon, my lord.” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore waved at Ned. “But Effie and I are a bit confused.”

  “There is no older brother Charles, is there?” Mrs. Higginbotham asked.

  Ned grinned. “Not that I know of.”

  “I must congratulate you, Edward.” Mrs. Blodgett smiled. “That w
as a brilliant performance.”

  “Thank you, Gwen. Although I must admit, it does seem rather a great pity.” Ned grinned in an overly satisfied manner. “I would have made one hell of an actor.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “ALL THINGS CONSIDERED, my lord, this is probably for the best,” Father said to Edward.

  A scant half an hour after the revelation of a previously unknown heir, Celia, Henry and his brother, Aunt Guinevere and her friends gathered in the front entry to bid farewell to Celia’s family. Katherine and Aunt Frances were already waiting in the carriage, obviously having no interest in further conversation. It was indeed for the best.

  Louise leaned toward Celia and spoke quietly, for Celia’s ears alone. “You’re not dressed for traveling.”

  “No.” She met her half sister’s gaze firmly. “I’m not.”

  “How very interesting.” Louise studied her thoughtfully.

  “I am sorry this turned out as it did but it can’t be helped, I suppose.” Father cast Edward a sympathetic look. “Believe me, I understand how awkward this sort of thing can be. Although I have been fortunate enough not to have lost my title along with my fortune.”

  “Oh, I’ll come up with something.” Edward adopted a hopeful expression. “I always have.”

  “Good luck to you, then.” Father glanced at his two younger daughters. “If the two of you are ready, we should be off.”

  Celia braced herself. “I am sorry, Father, but I’m not going with you. I’ve decided to return to London to live with Aunt Guinevere.”

  Father snorted. “You’ll do no such thing.”

  “I am an adult, Father. I can do as I please.”

  “You are still my daughter and as your father you will do as I say.”

  “On the contrary, Alfred.” Aunt Guinevere stepped forward. “According to my solicitor, if Celia does not reside where I think is best, a family trust—my family’s trust—that she will get a portion of at a specific age will not be allotted to her. I think her financial future is much more important than your obviously heartfelt desire to keep her at home.”