by Ava Stone
Goodness. Greg was beyond wonderful. How would any other man ever measure up to him? Bella bit her bottom lip and then said, “Thank you.”
Dear God, there was something about her that tugged at Greg’s heart. The sweetly innocent air about her, the sincerity that always shined in her eyes, even the soft breathy quality of her voice as though it was designed to drive him to distraction. “My pleasure,” he muttered.
And it truly was his pleasure.
Greg would love to shower her in diamonds of his own choosing, but he’d have to settle for returning the jewelry her grandmother meant for her to have. The other was not an option, not unless he was prepared to declare himself in reality, and as much as he adored spending time with Bella, he didn’t think he was prepared to do that. He’d like to actually, which was surprising enough. But he wouldn’t be in Town beyond the Season and the two of them lived very different lives. He couldn’t ask her to give up everything she loved. And…well, she deserved an honorable fellow who wasn’t tarnished and could love her with his whole heart. Greg didn’t even possess his whole heart anymore. So he certainly couldn’t love with all of it.
But that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy every moment he got to spend with her. That didn’t mean he couldn’t try to aid her as much as possible while their little plan played out. And that didn’t mean that he couldn’t wish that things could be different.
“So,” Bella began, breaking into Greg’s reverie. “What did you have in mind for Cordie?”
Honestly, Greg had no idea. He wasn’t even certain if jewelry was the right thing to get his sister, but…well, they were here. “I’m not sure. A broach? A bracelet? A hair jewel? What do you think?”
Bella shrugged slightly but brushed past Greg to glance down in the jewelry cases. “She doesn’t go out very often, I understand.”
Yes, not since her miscarriage, though Greg didn’t want to say as much. “I hope she will return to her formerly quite social self in time.”
She did glance up at him then. “Lissy…er…Lady Felicity said Cordie stays mostly at home since becoming a mother.”
Was that what people thought? Or had Lady Felicity simply not wanted to share the particular truth behind Cordie’s recent reclusiveness? “Little Lord Bayhurst will not always be tiny, and I have every bit of faith that my sister will return to herself once his need for her wanes.”
“I’m not sure if it ever truly wanes,” Bella said, returning her gaze to the cases below.
And she might very well be right about that. Greg wasn’t certain. Had his daughter lived, she would have been six years old. Had she made it that far, would she still have had need of Greg? Though really his daughter would have thought Clayworth was her father. The man did dote on his son. How would he have treated Greg’s bastard daughter? It certainly wasn’t the first time he’d contemplated that question, though he still had no—
“Oh, that’s pretty,” Bella said, drawing Greg from his maudlin thoughts.
He came up behind her and peered into the case. A dainty bracelet made up of five cameo scenes caught his eye. Each little scene was different, but there was no mistaking the subject of the piece. “Robin Hood and Maid Marion,” he said in surprise.
“Look at how well the carver created Robin’s bow,” Bella said. “So intricately delicate.”
And Greg would not normally pay attention to any sort of detail, but the overall piece was something else… “Growing up in Nottinghamshire, we all played Robin Hood as children. Mother didn’t approve, naturally. But…” Greg couldn’t help but smile. “I do believe it’s the perfect gift, Bella.”
She looked back up at him over her shoulder and the most radiant twinkle reflected in her grey eyes, making Greg’s heart beat a little faster. “You like it?”
“I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
That familiar blush pinkened her cheeks once more, and Greg had the overwhelming desire to caress the side of her cheek with his thumb. What would it be like to never be without her? Part of him desperately wanted to know.
Chapter 15
As soon as Bella stepped through the door at Chatham House, her grandmother’s earbobs safely hidden in her reticule, she was brought up short by a most unusual sound. Grandfather was actually laughing in his study. That was more than a rarity. She couldn’t imagine what could possibly put the old man in such a jovial mood. Heaven help them all if he found out Elliott had been stealing the family’s jewelry. His laughter would turn to rage in the blink of an eye.
She winced at the thought. None of their lives would be worth living if he ever found out about that. But at the same time, she didn’t know how he wouldn’t notice eventually that things were missing, especially if Elliott had taken more than just Grandmama’s earbobs, and the odds were that he had.
“Oh, Bella!” Prissa appeared in the corridor from the front parlor. She looked quite unhappy with a furrowed brow and worried eyes. She gestured toward the room behind her. “Come quickly.”
An unease washed over Bella. Goodness, what was it now? Had Elliott done something else while she was gone? She quickly followed her sister back over the threshold and said, “What’s the matter? You look worried.”
“Johann,” Prissa said softly. “He arrived not long ago.”
Johann? But he wasn’t due in London for a sennight. Her unease quickly turned to panic, but Bella took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. Everyone thought she was betrothed to Greg. Johann being in Town meant nothing to her freedom at the end of the day. And though she knew that truth in her head, her heart still twisted more than a bit at what her future could so easily have been if Greg hadn’t come to her rescue and agreed to play the role of her fiancé. She never would have been able to bring anyone else up to scratch before her horrid cousin had arrived. “Why is he early?”
“You certainly don’t think he would lower himself to tell me anything, do you?” Prissa heaved out a sigh.
There was something to be said about the fact that even Prissa couldn’t abide Johann, as she found something to like about nearly everyone she encountered. And then the levity Bella had first heard upon entering Chatham House made complete sense. “Grandpapa is laughing because Johann is with him.”
Her sister nodded. “Papa’s gone off to the library and Elliott…well, I’m not sure where he went.”
Elliott. Bella felt like crying all over again. Something had to be done about their brother. “Prissa, I am terribly worried about Elliott.”
“More so than normal?”
So much more. She grasped her sister’s hand and towed her toward the gold brocade settee. “I discovered him selling Grandmama’s yellow diamond earbobs.”
Strangely, her sister didn’t appear at all surprised by that. “Where?”
“Garrard in Town,” Bella replied. Though the where wasn’t nearly the most important part of the story. “And when I tried to talk to him…” She shook her head. “He said the dukedom would be his someday and so it didn’t matter.”
“Oh, Bella. Grandmama meant for you to have them.”
And Greg had made certain she would. Bella tightened her hold on the strings to her reticule. “That aside, I have to believe it wasn’t the first time he’s done such an awful thing. He’s asked us both for our pin money and—”
“He has a byblow,” Prissa blurted out. And then she cringed as though she’d done something wrong. “I told him I wouldn’t tell anyone else.”
Bella’s mouth fell open. “I beg your pardon?”
“A daughter with an Irish girl. The mother—” Prissa winced again “—she’s Catholic. He said Papa would never approve.”
Papa would never approve of Elliott having sired a byblow whether the child’s mother was Catholic or not. “Who is she? Where is she?”
Prissa shook her head. “He said Seven Dials.”
“Elliott sired a daughter with an Irish Catholic girl who lives in a rookery?” Even as the words came out of Bella’s
mouth they sounded false to her ears. Elliott was no stranger to landing himself in trouble, but she doubted even he had ever stepped foot in Seven Dials.
Prissa nodded. “And his daughter is sick. He said he needs money—”
“I would imagine anyone living in Seven Dials is disease ridden.”
Her sister frowned once more. “You don’t believe me. I can hear it in your voice.”
Bella shook her head. “I believe he told you that, Prissa. I’m just not sure I believe him.” Then she sighed. “Have you ever, in the history of knowing our brother, ever witnessed him caring about anyone other than himself?”
Prissa rubbed her brow as though she had a headache. “No,” she finally admitted. “Not really, not since we were children.”
“If he had a sick daughter, what is the likelihood that he would steal for her care?”
Prissa seemed to think about the question and then she bit her bottom lip in worry. “Perhaps having a child changed him?”
“Does he seem changed to you?” Bella took her dear sister’s hand in hers and squeezed. Prissa really was the sweetest girl alive. “He knows you have the kindest heart and that if he spun you the perfect the story, he could count on you to give him every last farthing you had and not to question any awful thing he might do.”
Prissa shook her head. “He seemed so sincere, Bella.”
Well, Elliott was a practiced liar. “What did you give him?”
“Mama’s pearls and the sapphire hair comb Papa gave me for my birthday.”
So Grandmama’s earbobs weren’t the first things. Bella hadn’t thought they were. At least Prissa had freely given him the other pieces, if being lied to could be considered freely. “We’ll find out if his Catholic girl really exists. If she does, we’ll help her and the babe. If she does not, Elliott will have to answer to Papa.”
After a moment, Prissa nodded in agreement. “But how will we find out for sure? I wouldn’t know the first thing about Seven Dials”
Neither did Bella, but she didn’t think it would come to investigating the rookery. There had to be a better way than that. Elliott might be a practiced liar, but he wasn’t very good at it a lot of the time. “We’ll—”
A grunt came from the threshold and Bella stopped mid-word to find her abhorrent cousin Johann von Guttstadt, the Count of Hellsburg, looking her over, and it appeared that he found her wanting. He was as austere as ever with his blond hair and cold blue eyes. “Arabella,” he said, his Prussian accent echoing around the room.
A cold shiver raced down Bella’s spine. She didn’t have to marry him. She wasn’t going to marry him. She had to keep reminding herself that she was free of Grandfather’s plot. “My lord, I didn’t know you’d arrived.”
His gaze flicked briefly toward Prissa as though he was annoyed they had a witness to this encounter. He grunted again. So eloquent, her cousin. Barbarian blood, indeed.
“Well,” Bella began, “I was just headed to my chambers to change for dinner.” And she did start toward the threshold, as escaping Johann’s presence was most definitely called for.
But he grasped her arm when she started to brush past him. “You are passable enough.”
So charming, her cousin. Passable enough. He wasn’t passable at all, saying something so contemptuous for no reason. “I beg your pardon?”
His frown deepened and the look from his icy eyes nearly chilled her to the bone. “I would prefer a more appealing wife, but I can make do with you.”
Before Bella could even reply to that comment, Prissa said quite loudly from the middle of the parlor. “Bella is betrothed to Lord Avery. So perhaps you’ll have luck in finding a wife who would suit you better.”
“One whom you’ll find more than passable,” Bella added, yanking her arm from Johann’s grasp and slipping past him into the corridor, her heart in her throat the entire time.
Goodness, if Greg hadn’t come to her rescue when he did, her barbarian cousin would be the only future she had.
Chapter 16
“Come now,” Tristan urged. “It’s not even a social event. You don’t have to be such a curmudgeon all the time.”
Greg glanced across the parlor at his brother and blew out a breath. “I’m not a gambler, Tris.”
His brother shook his head. “You don’t have to play if you don’t want to, but even Philip darkened the doorways of a couple hells last year when he was at his most sour.”
“I’m not sour,” Greg replied.
“Of course not,” his brother agreed. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. You’re newly betrothed and madly in love. You should be light-hearted enough to spend one evening with me without complaint.” Then he tilted his head slightly as though he was trying to sort something out. “Do you have some sort of plans with Lady Arabella? Is that it?”
“No.” Greg shook his head, and started to feel a bit like the curmudgeon Tristan had accused him of being. He did adore his brother. What was the harm in spending one night at a gaming hell? “She is kind enough not to force social gatherings on me.”
Tristan laughed. “Then you truly did find the perfect girl for you, Greg.”
The truth of it was, Greg might have done just that, but he didn’t want to think too long on that topic. It was already difficult enough to keep Bella from flitting in and out of every thought he had. With that in mind, a little distraction might be called for, actually. “One night in a hell?”
Tristan beamed. “And dare I hope a few hands of vingt-et-un?”
Greg laughed as he shook his head at his brother’s persistence. “I give you an inch...”
“And I’ll drag you kicking and screaming over the next mile until you have a decent time.” His brother’s green eyes twinkled. “But did my ears deceive me just now, Greg? Did you actually just laugh? I thought you’d forgotten how.”
Irritating brother. “It’s not too late for me to change my mind, Tris.”
Tristan chuckled softly. “I am glad to see you happy. Being in love seems to agree with you.”
Greg begged to differ that gambling wasn’t a social event. As soon as he and Tristan stepped inside a booming gaming hell in Covent Garden, they found themselves in the middle of a throng of other gentlemen. At least there didn’t seem to be any dagger wielders in the vicinity. Of course, it was still early, he supposed.
A chorus of disappointment emanated from a Hazard table a few feet away, and Greg immediately recognized Simon, of all people, in the midst of the action. His old friend’s eyes widened in surprise when he spotted Greg. Then he pushed away from the table and started toward them.
“On my life!” Simon began. “Has the very sensible Gregory Avery actually darkened the doorway to a den of luck and chances?” Then he offered his hand to Tristan in greeting. “I’d imagine you’re behind this uncharacteristic foray, Lieutenant.”
Tristan shook Simon’s hand and said, “On the contrary, Greg’s the one dragging me out tonight, Thurlstone.”
At that, Simon tipped back his head and laughed. “And I thought you were supposed to be the most honest of all the Averys.” He turned his attention back to Greg. “I’m actually glad you’re here. I’ve been looking for you.”
Had he, indeed? “Unlikely to find me in a place like this.”
Simon shook his head. “No, not here. I do know you better than that.” He gestured to the far side of the hell where a few tables lined the walls and then started in that direction with Greg and Tristan following along beside him. “Missed you at Kelfield’s the other night. Heard your news. Wanted to offer my most heartfelt congratulations on your betrothal.”
“Heartfelt?” Greg quirked his old friend a look. “Are you not the same fellow who said that whenever a man gets married he becomes more of a bore than he had been previously?”
Simon laughed. “Did I?”
“At Tattersalls,” Greg reminded him.
His friend shrugged. “Yes, well, I can’t help if it’s true. But in your case, I can’
t imagine you could become more boring, so…”
“Go bugger off,” Greg replied without heat.
“I’m simply saying,” Simon began, grinning from ear-to-ear, “that you weren’t always so sensible.” He glanced back at Tristan. “Once upon a time, your brother had quite the adventurous steak. Did you know?”
“I do remember that fellow,” Tristan said with a laugh. “I’ve even seen some evidence of him of late.”
“Indeed?” Simon chuckled. “And here I’d thought he was dead and buried somewhere.”
Greg scowled at his old friend. “Yes, well, some of us had the need to grow up at some point.”
“You did come into your title long before I did mine,” Simon conceded as he dropped into an empty seat. “It would only stand to reason you’d marry before me.” He nodded and a serious expression settled on his face as Greg and Tristan took a pair of empty seats at the table as well. “In all honesty, you are one of my oldest friends, Greg, and I am happy for you. Lady Arabella seems a delightful girl.”
“Do you know her?” Greg asked.
His friend smirked at that. “How many proper girls do you think I’m familiar with?”
“What was I thinking?” Greg teased in return. Then he glanced back toward the Hazard table where Simon had been and asked, “Still showing your American partner all the sights of Town?” He didn’t see the man, but he hated to abandon him if he was amongst the throng somewhere.
Simon snorted. “Both of my new American partners have absconded with my coach, headed for Derbyshire, believe it or not.”
“Derbyshire?” Greg echoed. “The Peak District seems an odd choice for owners of a shipping company.”
His friend frowned. “Yes, well, it seems that my Captain Pierce is the not-so-dead husband of Lady Felicity Pierce, believe it or not; and the lady in question seems to be at Prestwick Chase.”
