Secret Life of a Scandalous Debutante

by Bronwyn Scott

  All things considered, Christoph was relieved when the dinner came to an end. The men would not linger over port and brandy tonight with the promise of the fireworks at the reception and the revealing of the new flower.

  The viscount rose from his chair and clinked his spoon against a crystal glass. ‘We’ll forgo brandy tonight in light of our other entertainments. I am told guests are already assembling in the gardens for the unveiling.’ He gave a little speech about the rose, one Christoph felt certain would be repeated later at the greenhouse, and then the company paraded out to the grounds.

  Christoph made sure to attach himself to a large group so that Lilya would be less likely to notice his absence when he slipped away, although she was so distracted by the baron tonight, she might not notice at all.

  As the group exited to the verandah, Christoph made his move and extricated himself, falling back until he was alone in the house. He’d start in the study on the second floor.

  Christoph made straight for the moderately sized oil on the study wall. If there was a safe behind it, there would be a lock that needed picking. This was where he’d spend most of his time. Lock picking was the domain of the patient man. Christoph lifted down the painting and breathed a sigh of relief. There was a safe with a standard tumbler lock. Ah, the viscount had good taste. The lock appeared to be one of the quite fine specimens turned out by the French. He could pick it, but that would take some time, especially if it indeed was French. He might be better served to take a quick look around for a key. Sometimes the easiest road was precisely that—easy.

  Out of caution, Christoph hung the picture back up. There was no sense in giving himself away until he was ready. Christoph sat behind Valerian’s desk and began a cursory search of the drawers. People usually had a very predictable habit of keeping their keys close to the items the keys unlocked.

  In the second drawer, he found what he was looking for in a small wooden box pushed to the back: a set of keys. That was where Christoph’s luck ended. The safe held no sign of the diamond.

  Christoph was missing. The man was absent from his post at Lilya’s side. Beldon’s eyes swept the crowd. True, there were nearly two hundred people gathered in the St Just gardens. He could be among the crowd anywhere. It wasn’t mandated he had to stand with Lilya, but it seemed odd for him not to be.

  It might be nothing more than a need to relieve himself. Still, with the lure of fireworks looming, Beldon thought it was taking the man a rather long time to take care of his business. Fireworks were a treat even for adults and St Just’s promised to be well worth the wait.

  Beldon discreetly headed back to the house. He enquired of the servants. No one had seen anyone return to the house. Beldon made a quick survey of the public rooms downstairs. They turned up no sign of Val’s errant guest. But if he’d felt indisposed or come down with a headache, he’d be unlikely to lie down in those rooms. He would seek a darker room where he could be left alone. Even though logic supported the conclusion, Beldon didn’t like the idea of Christoph in the private areas of the town house unescorted. The man wasn’t family and it seemed somehow presumptuous.

  Beldon headed upstairs. The library or Val’s office seemed likely guesses. Both would be dark and complete with the requisite sofa for the occasional nap. But he doubted Val would like anyone poking around in his private affairs.

  Val’s office appeared empty, but on a whim Beldon took a minute to search for signs that someone had been there recently. Ah, most curious, he thought. The sofa showed no signs of a depression, but the chair behind Val’s desk still held body heat and an oil landscape of horses and hounds on the wall was a fraction crooked. Someone had been here and not to rest.

  Above him, a floorboard creaked. The bedrooms were directly over the office. Beldon’s logic told him it could be maids readying the chambers for bed. But in light of the odd circumstances in Val’s office, Beldon wasn’t ready to dismiss the floorboard without investigation.

  The first boom heralded the beginning of the fireworks display. If someone was snooping around, they’d picked a good time to do it. Beldon took the stairs to the upper floor two at a time. At the top of the stairs, Beldon slowed. He would need stealth up here. If Christoph was slinking around, it would not serve to announce his presence.

  As it turned out, no stealth was needed. Halls were straight, open places with no inherent cover. Christoph was still out in the open, his back to Beldon as he went down the left side of the corridor. Beldon watched for a moment. Lilya’s room was on that side and further down. It was time to announce his presence.

  ‘The fireworks are downstairs,’ Beldon called out.

  Christoph halted, his body stiffening at the unexpected sound of a voice. Even in the dim light of the hall, Beldon could see he’d been taken at unawares. Perhaps he should have waited and followed Christoph to see what the bounder was up to. Whatever it was, it was no good. A gentleman didn’t sneak upstairs to a young woman’s bedchamber with honourable intentions in mind.

  Christoph turned slowly. ‘Ah, Pendennys, I’d got lost.’ He put a hand to his head. ‘I was looking for a place to lie down while the others enjoyed the entertainment.’ He shrugged, letting the gesture finish his thought.

  Christoph walked towards him, ostensibly returning to the stairs to rejoin the group outside, but Beldon’s body tensed in awareness. Christoph didn’t walk like a man pained by a headache. His step was firm, his shoulders straight. His hand reached into an inside jacket pocket.

  Good God, did the man have a weapon on him? Beldon didn’t fear for himself. He could hold his own in any fight, even one with unequal odds. His concern was for Lilya. Had Val unsuspectingly left her alone with an armed man on previous occasions? Had Christoph carried a weapon that night he’d taken Lilya into the garden? What kind of gentleman went armed to social functions?

  ‘There’s nothing up here but the private bedchambers.’ Beldon’s statement was more accusation than fact.

  ‘You would know,’ Christoph sneered. He was close enough now for Beldon to see his eyes, hard and alert. Definitely not the eyes of a man feeling unwell.

  ‘What do you mean by that?’ Beldon challenged. A fight was coming. The comment was meant to provoke and he was ready to be provoked. Beldon stepped in front of the stairs, arms crossed, legs spread in a defiant stance. Christoph wasn’t getting down the steps until he had answers.

  ‘I mean, you’re besotted with her.’ Christoph looked positively cruel now, his face suffused with anger. Anger at being thwarted in some plan or thwarted at love?

  ‘Besotted? With Miss Stefanov? I think you misunderstand,’ Beldon said carefully. He would not give Agyros the satisfaction.

  ‘Do I? You know where her bedroom is, you dance with her. I see you watch her with your eyes whenever she’s in a room, how you look for her when she’s not.’ Christoph paused here for effect. ‘You could not bear to see her kiss another that night in the garden.’

  ‘I am a family friend. I have her best interests at heart, which is more than I can say for you at the moment,’ Beldon ground out, his own anger reaching a dangerous level. He would fight, but he would not throw the first punch in Valerian’s home.

  Christoph’s eyes glinted dangerously. ‘It’s a convenient shield to hide your true feelings behind.’

  ‘And your true intentions? What really brings you up here to lurk in private quarters?’ Beldon was starting to rethink the whole philosophy of not throwing the first punch.

  Christoph gave another of his irritating shrugs. His eyes shifted slightly to the ground for the briefest of moments. ‘I was going to leave a small gift for her as a surprise.’ He looked up accusingly at Beldon. ‘I suppose that’s ruined now. How pleased you must be with yourself.’ Christoph shoved past Beldon, bumping him in the shoulder.

  ‘You lie.’ Beldon’s hand came up, restraining Christoph and perhaps, oh, so subtly—or not—shoving him back so that they were now in the corridor
, away from the mouth of the stairs. They could fight here without fear of falling down the stairs.

  ‘That is an affront to my honour,’ Christoph growled.

  ‘Show me the gift.’

  ‘This is none of your affair.’ Christoph reached for his inner pocket again. Beldon did not wait to see if it was a gift or a gun. If he waited, it would be too late. Beldon launched himself at Christoph, prohibiting the attempt to retrieve anything from a pocket. The men went down together on the carpet, rolling and grappling. Christoph was a smart fighter, showing off a prowess that spoke of far too many similar encounters, but Beldon had backed Valerian in several fights before and he proved the stronger. Beldon straddled the man, finally succeeding in pinning him to the floor. He flipped open Christoph’s coat and reached inside. It was as he’d expected.

  ‘A very strange gift, I’d say. Special custom of your country?’ Beldon stepped back, feeling confident Christoph wouldn’t try anything desperate while he held the gun. Beldon checked the gun. Loaded and primed. His dislike for Christoph rose another notch. The bastard had brought a primed weapon into Valerian’s home.

  Christoph scrambled to his feet. ‘You know nothing about me or where I’ve come from. If you did, you might understand why a gentleman feels it necessary to go well armed even among a genteel public. I did not come to cause trouble.’

  Beldon quirked an eyebrow in cold disdain. ‘But clearly you thought it might find you anyway.’

  Christoph moved past him and this time Beldon let him go. The fireworks were ending and the others would be returning indoors. His confrontation with Christoph was effectively ended for now.

  Part way down the stairs, Christoph turned back. ‘This is something Lilya understands. We are alike, she and I.’

  Beldon waited until Christoph had rejoined the early returning guests before he headed downstairs. He needed a moment to collect himself. Christoph’s comments rankled. Beldon despised the implication that Lilya was like Christoph in any sense. If he was generous, he’d give Christoph the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps the man might carry a gun out of a habitual need for self-protection. But that did not change the fact that Christoph was a liar. He’d lied about the gift and hence he’d lied about his reason for being upstairs, skulking towards Lilya’s room.

  What else had Christoph lied about? In his experience liars told more than one lie. The man must be investigated.

  There was something else that must be investigated, too: his feelings for Lilya. Christoph had lied about much, but was there some truth in those claims? He had not realised how much he’d let it show. He had not intended that. Then again, Christoph might have been taking a random guess. Christoph had been baiting him on purpose. It was taking things too far to put any amount of stock in Christoph’s angry suppositions. Now was not the time for speculation. Now was the time to go after Agyros.

  Chapter Seven

  The bastard managed to slip out seconds ahead of him under the protection of a group headed off to the Chester rout. He could add ‘coward’ to the growing list of adjectives describing the bounder. Beldon cursed his bad luck and withdrew to the drawing room to wait out the farewelling.

  From his vantage point he could see Lilya standing with Val and Philippa talking to the last of the guests. She was leaning forwards to catch elderly Lady Cotsworth’s words, giving the older woman all of her attention, the expression on her face genuine and sincere—trademarks of an excellent hostess. He had not thought of her in that light although in hindsight he should have. She’d spent the time since her arrival in England being mentored by Philippa, the consummate hostess. Was it possible he’d over-looked ways in which Lilya fit one of his criteria? There was some relief in that. It would mean his earlier concerns over a flawed criterion were now mitigated. The criteria was fine, it was merely the application of it that erred.

  But there was still the second hurdle. Her money. His principles. Her money came from Val and he could not in good conscience take money from his best friend. He still needed it. He’d been counting on a good marriage to bring the comfort of extra funds to Pendennys. He’d done much to make Pendennys solid again, but there were limits to what even he could manufacture. The mining investments he relied on currently would not always pay out, a truth his father had not recognised. He would not be caught out by the same fault.

  The clock in the hall had chimed half past eleven by the time the door shut behind the last guest. The evening had been delightful and early by ton standards, as a supper and reception should be. The butler closed the door behind the last guest and Val let out a sigh. ‘Well, that’s that.’ He bent to kiss Philippa’s cheek. ‘Well done, my love. It was a splendid evening.’

  Philippa smiled at him, blue eyes laughing with a secret clearly between the two of them. ‘The evening isn’t over yet. Perhaps you should reserve judgement until later.’

  Beldon felt distinctly de trop at moments such as these, as if he were an intruder on a private scene. He ‘ahemmed’ in the drawing-room doorway. ‘Before you two start mooning over each other, perhaps we might talk a while.’ He silently regretted being the bearer of news that would delay whatever Val was anticipating upstairs.

  ‘Shall I ring for tea?’ Philippa asked once they were settled in the drawing room on a comfortable grouping of chairs near the fireplace.

  ‘Only if you like.’ Beldon made a dismissive wave with his hand. ‘No need to on my account.’

  ‘Perhaps something stronger, then?’ Val didn’t wait for an answer before sending a footman off for a decanter and glasses. Val turned his attention back to Beldon. ‘Well, out with it. Clearly something is afoot,’ Val said without preamble. ‘I noticed you missed the fireworks.’

  ‘There was an intruder here this evening.’ Beldon looked each of them in the eye, but his gaze settled on Lilya and remained, wanting to see her reaction in full. ‘I caught Christoph Agyros upstairs.’

  ‘Caught?’ Val queried. ‘An interesting choice of words. Do you suppose you might just as well say “found” him up there? You must agree, “caught” carries a certain guilty connotation with it.’

  Beldon’s gaze flickered to Valerian briefly. ‘Yes, “caught” is the word I mean. He was walking down the left side of the corridor, counting doors. He’d reached number three when I came upon him.’

  Lilya stifled a gasp of surprise. Beldon’s eyes were back on her, watching her for a reaction. There were only four rooms on that side of the hall. With only one room left, the implication was clear. Christoph had been looking for her room, and, even more telling, Christoph had known where to find it. Lilya hazarded a glance in Valerian’s direction. He knew it, too. Years of work in diplomacy had enhanced Val’s intuitive skill to read beyond the words to the message within the message.

  The anxiety Lilya had kept under constant control since fleeing her homeland slipped its leash, running rampant in a moment of panic. Was Christoph her fears incarnate? Had she indeed been found? A thousand questions vied for her attentions.

  ‘Did you question him?’ Val asked Beldon.

  Beldon nodded. The grim set of his jaw boded ill news. ‘He said he wanted to surprise Lilya with a gift, a token of his affections.’

  Beldon was watching her too closely. Lilya struggled to hide her growing fear. How would she explain all this to them? What explanation could she possibly offer that would not reveal the diamond and her true reasoning for coming to England? The pleasantness of the evening faded. The joy she’d taken in the fireworks, evaporated entirely. Surely that had been when Christoph had slipped away. She had not realised he was gone until she’d seen him back at the house with a group of people who’d gone inside earlier. While she’d been taking a moment’s enjoyment, he’d been searching the house. More precisely, he’d been searching out her chambers, perhaps knowing what he would find there.

  Be careful, she cautioned herself. She must not jump to conclusions quite yet.

  ‘Do we know what t
hat gift was?’ Val’s tone was cool and alert. He and Beldon looked ready to pummel someone on her behalf. This was exactly what Lilya wanted to avoid.

  ‘There was no gift.’ Beldon reached into his jacket, giving Philippa an apologetic look. ‘I did not believe him and we brawled.’

  Philippa gave a chagrined gasp. ‘At my party?’

  ‘It was a small tussle. Nothing was broken,’ Beldon said ruefully in a way that made Lilya think he wasn’t talking about vases, but perhaps noses. ‘There was no gift in his pocket, only this.’

  Lilya jumped in spite of herself at the sight of the gun. There was regret in Beldon’s eyes, but his tone did not soften. ‘I am sorry for my briskness, Lilya. I would not frighten you for the world. If it’s any consolation, I don’t think Christoph meant to use the gun proactively. I certainly don’t think he came here with the intention to shoot you.’