by Lydia Dare
Dash shrugged. “Call it women’s intuition, if you’d like. And though her intuition is compromised due her present condition, I’ve never known my wife to be wrong. Which leads us back to you and your Miss Mayeux.”
“She’s not mine,” Gray said again. “She doesn’t even want to be here, Dash. If she could stow away on a vessel headed for America, she’d do it in a heartbeat.”
“Then I suppose you’ll have to change her mind.”
Was he serious? “All of this so that I won’t have time to create havoc for you? I’d think you’d want to meet the girl before deciding I should abduct and elope with her.”
Dash only grinned. “Do try not to cause another scandal.”
***
Livi waited until her grandfather called, “Enter,” before she pushed open his door. She stepped inside his chambers as a series of coughs wracked his frame.
“Would you like water, Grandfather?”
The earl snorted. “So you can drown me?” He gestured toward a seat beside his bed. “Sit. I want to hear how the musicale turned out last night.”
Bon Dieu! There wasn’t a thing she could say about last night that he wouldn’t get upset over. “There isn’t much to tell,” she hedged.
“Horrid affairs,” he agreed. “But they are necessary if you’re to fit in among society.”
Livi cringed, remembering the events of the previous evening. When her grandfather learned what really happened, he’d be furious. Perhaps she could soften him up a little before the whole ugly truth hit his ears. “I can see that, though I didn’t really get a chance to socialize last night.”
The earl grunted. “What of Sophia Cole? Do you feel she is helping you?”
At that Livi nodded earnestly. “She is doing her best for me.”
“The question is whether or not her best is good enough. Has she helped you meet important people?”
Livi wasn’t certain who was important and who wasn’t, but she figured her grandfather would approve of one name. “I met the Duchess of Hythe yesterday.”
A series of coughs escaped the earl, but then his pallor looked a little better and he sat up straighter in bed. “Her Grace would be a good advocate for you.” Then he rubbed his chin. “You should keep your distance from her grandsons, though,” he warned. “Degenerates, both of them.”
Livi nodded. “Lady Sophia said something similar.”
“Good. Then her judgment is sound.” Her grandfather sighed as he stared at her. “I am sorry Grace isn’t here to lead you through this.”
A twinge of pain squeezed Livi’s heart at his words. “I’ve had to find my way through most things without Maman.”
“Raised by wild men instead,” the earl whispered. “Philippe should have sent you to me years ago, while your grandmother was still alive and would have known what to do for you.”
He seemed so sincere that Livi couldn’t help squeezing her grandfather’s hand. “Papa did the best he could.”
He agreed with a curt nod. “Your father and I have never agreed on anything, except for our love for Grace. We loved her in different ways, of course, but one is just as strong as the other. I’m sure he did the best for you that he was able to do. But I could have done more. I have more connections. Access to more influential men with full purses.”
Papa’s purse was plenty full with all of his enterprises, though Livi thought better than to say as much. And she was slightly taken aback by her grandfather’s musings. The earl truly did seem to care for her interests, which surprised Livi more than a little. She swiped a tear from her cheek. “I’m here now, Grandfather, and I’ll listen to everything Lady Sophia says.”
“See that you do.” He actually smiled at her. “If I’m feeling up to it, I’ll go to the Assembly Room with you this evening.”
And hear firsthand what had happened the night before? Livi almost blanched. She shook her head, more forcefully than was necessary. He might care for her interests, but he might think her best interests included a convent if he learned what she’d said at the Longboroughs’. “You should rest, Grandfather. I’m sure I’ll be fine with Lady Sophia and Lady Radbourne.”
“I might need a few days to get over this illness,” he said with a nod as he lay back against his pillows. Then he raised his head and said, “You’ll make me proud. I’m certain of it.”
He had faith in her? Her heart felt like it was expanding to twice its size as tears pricked the backs of her lashes. “I’ll make you proud,” she whispered. But his eyes were closing and she wasn’t even sure he heard her.
Livi would make him proud, even if she had to marry the most boring old peer who ever dared to enter an assembly room. And she would begin her search that night. After all, such a life had to be better than one spent behind convent walls. And hopefully, before her grandfather learned of her blunder at the Longboroughs’, she could have a suitable suitor in the wings. If so, her grandfather wouldn’t send her off to Ireland, would he? She hoped not.
Livi stepped out of his room and closed the door behind her. She could do this. She could. She was made of strong stuff. Now she just needed to prove it to everyone else. She searched the house until she found Lady Sophia in the yellow sitting room, where she sat embroidering. “I need you to make me perfect,” she said.
Sophia finished her stitch and looked up, not even taken aback by Livi’s statement.
“Can you make me graceful? And elegant?” Livi fiddled nervously with the sleeve of her dress.
“Has something happened that I’m not aware of, Livi?” Sophie asked. She set her embroidery to the side and regarded Livi with a most serious look.
“Not really,” Livi prevaricated. She couldn’t tell Sophie that she wanted to make her grandfather proud. “I just want to be the best I can be tonight. Teach me everything,” she said as she sat down beside Sophie.
“Everything is a bit much for one day. We may need reinforcements.”
Thirteen
“No,” Sophie sighed. “I haven’t seen Mr. Hadley this evening, either.”
Was he avoiding Livi after the scene they’d caused the night before? Apparently, though Livi would have thought he’d have at least sought her out to make an apology, especially after paying her a visit in her private chambers the night before.
“Now, turn around,” Sophie instructed.
Livi turned to look at herself in the mirror and gasped at the vision in green that met her eyes. Sophie had softened her hair by trimming some around the front and sides, and then Marie had swept the rest into an elegant mass of riotous curls held in place by silver combs that glimmered in the light of the candles placed about the room. One long curl draped over her bare shoulder.
She sucked in her stomach and turned to the side. “Are you certain it’s supposed to fit this way?” Livi asked. She had a bit more bosom on display than she’d ever shown to anyone in her life.
“I’m positive,” Sophie laughed. She stepped forward and arranged that single curl so that it lay more perfectly over Livi’s shoulder. “You look beautiful.”
“No one will say I look like a whore?” Livi asked, grimacing at her reflection in the mirror.
“Ladies do not say the word you just used, Livi,” Sophie scolded.
“Whore?” Livi repeated, certain she must look like a bumbling idiot.
“And she says it again,” Sophie muttered to herself as she shook her head. “Don’t use that word,” her tutor ordered.
“What do you call them?” Livi asked.
Sophie appeared to mull it over. “I don’t call them anything. Because a lady does not think of such things.”
“You never think of wh—”
“Livi!” Sophie barked.
Livi rolled her eyes. “Strumpets. Tarts. Loose women.”
“Strumpets, tarts, and loose women are none of your concern. Nor should they be part of your vocabulary,” Sophie informed her. “Focus on the matter at hand, will you? Appearing delicate and refined tonight i
s your singular concern.”
Livi snorted. “Delicate.”
Sophie sighed heavily. “You said you’re in this for the long haul, Livi. You said you are on a husband hunt, and I’m trying to help you. So stop saying words like that. Wipe them from your mind. Along with any other French curse words.”
“Yes, Sophie.” Livi would endeavor to forget all the words she’d heard every day of her life as she followed her brothers from place to place. Sophie had spent hours practicing dancing with her—playing the part of the man since neither Lord Radbourne nor Gray had turned up all day—until Livi could dance the waltz, the quadrille, and a few other dances she’d never heard of with relative ease. Sophie’s feet were probably aching from all the dancing. Livi knew hers were. “Thank you for all of your help,” Livi said softly.
“You’re quite welcome.” She smiled with a warmth that Livi was fast becoming accustomed to, where her new friend was concerned.
“You make me think I might actually pull this off.”
“I have no doubt of it.” Sophie pointed to Livi’s reflection in the mirror. “Look at you. You’re beautiful.”
She looked for the beautiful girl Sophie saw and couldn’t find her anywhere. She saw a girl playing dress-up in someone else’s clothes. Sophie had been nice enough to let her have one of her own gowns and had even altered the bodice to fit Livi so she could be appropriately dressed. And it fit reasonably well, even if it did show more flesh than was necessary.
“You shimmer like an emerald in that color,” Sophie assured her.
Livi thought she looked more like an artichoke. But perhaps it was the way the light hit the dress from a different angle. She’d take Sophie’s word for it.
“I do have something for you,” Sophie said quietly. “But if you get all weepy and make your eyes puffy, I won’t be able to forgive you.”
A present? For her? “You shouldn’t have done anything special for me.” Sophie had done enough as it was.
“I didn’t,” Sophie clipped out as she turned and retrieved a cask from the bedside. She held it out to Livi. “Go ahead. It won’t bite.” Livi reached for it, and Sophie jerked it back at the last moment. “But mark my words—no crying.”
“I promise,” Livi said quickly as she took the cask and sat down beside the vanity. She opened it slowly. Inside was a folded piece of parchment and two small pouches. She opened the note and read the short salutation quickly aloud to herself. “I thought you might like these. They belonged to your mother…” Her voice trailed off as she got to the end. “It’s from Grandfather.”
“No weeping!” Sophie said, her own eyes brimming with tears.
Livi pushed the note to the side and shook the contents of one black velvet bag into her hands. A gleaming pair of earbobs landed in her palm. Livi couldn’t breathe for a moment. They were beautiful. They were emeralds, almost the same color as her dress, fashioned with gold so that they would dangle from her ears. She opened the second bag and dumped the contents in her palm in much the same manner. A matching pendant on a gold chain necklace tumbled into her hand. She let the gold chain fall through her fingertips and regarded the pendant with awe. It was something of Maman’s. Her mother had worn this very necklace and earbobs. Livi swiped a tear from her cheek. “Will you put it on me?” she asked hesitantly.
Sophie hastened to her side. “Of course,” she said as she took the delicate chain and stepped behind Livi to clasp it behind her neck. Then she helped her don the earbobs. Livi gave her head a little shake, and the jewels at her ears shimmered and danced in the light with her movement.
“So beautiful,” Livi breathed.
Sophie squeezed her shoulder gently. “Yes, you are,” she affirmed.
A knock sounded on the door. “Come in,” Livi called absently as she bent to put on her slipper.
Lady Radbourne stepped over the threshold, and her dark eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, Liviana, you are as stunning as Grace ever was.”
Livi sniffed back a tear at that comment.
“My lady,” Sophie scolded, “I’ve been trying to keep her from crying.”
Lady Radbourne smiled broadly. “Yes, of course.” Then she pulled out a handkerchief from her reticule and offered it to Livi. “No puffy eyes, my dear. You want to be radiant when you walk through those doors tonight.”
Livi took the linen gratefully and dabbed at the corner of her eyes with the cloth.
“I thought it would be best if we arrived with Lord and Lady Eynsford. They’re awaiting us in the front parlor.”
“Eynsford?” Livi frowned. She had heard that name before, hadn’t she? It certainly sounded familiar.
Lady Radbourne nodded with enthusiasm, sending her dark curls bobbing about her shoulders. “Such a lovely couple. Lord Eynsford has taken a great interest in my sons’ welfare. Taken them under his wing, so to speak.”
The man Sophie was always threatening Lord Radbourne with. Livi knew the name sounded familiar. “Their older brother,” she added, putting the pieces together.
But a moment later, she wished she could call the words back. Lady Radbourne turned a bit red, and even Sophie’s eyes rounded in surprise. “Brother?” Sophie echoed. “You must be mistaken. There is no familial connection between the two families.”
Livi shook her head. Why were the two women behaving so strangely? “But I thought Gray said—”
“You must have misunderstood him,” Lady Radbourne hastened to explain. “And you mustn’t repeat such a thing, Liviana. Not ever.”
Somehow she’d made a mess out of things again, and she hadn’t meant to. Did she have the wrong gentleman in mind? The one who employed Sophie to tutor the Hadley brothers? She didn’t think so. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled for nothing better to say.
Sophie smiled and linked her arm with Livi’s. “No harm done. Let’s not speak of it again, all right?”
Livi nodded as her friend directed her over the threshold and then down the steps.
“You will love Lady Eynsford,” Sophie promised. “She told me she is most anxious to make your acquaintance.”
A moment later, Sophie ushered Livi into the front parlor where a golden couple awaited them. Both Lady and Lord Eynsford were blond, and the latter possessed a set of golden eyes that were nearly identical to Lord Radbourne’s. In fact, Lord Radbourne looked more like Lord Eynsford than he did Gray. The man before her was most certainly the one Gray had mentioned. He was their older brother, Livi had no doubt. So why had Sophie and Lady Radbourne tried to hide the fact?
Then the answer hit Livi like a great gust of wind. Gray had actually referred to the blond Lycan as their half brother. Lord Eynsford had been born on the wrong side of the blanket. Thank heavens she hadn’t mentioned his fraternal relationship with the brothers Hadley out in public. No wonder Sophie and Lady Radbourne had been so mortified. Gray should have warned her.
Lady Eynsford, a blond beauty with sparkling blue eyes, stepped forward and offered Livi her hand. “Miss Mayeux, I presume.” Her Scottish brogue floated over Livi like a warm caress.
Livi nodded. “A pleasure to meet you.”
“Oh,” the lady gushed, “the pleasure is all mine. I am so glad ye’ll be ridin’ with us ta the Assembly Room.”
“Radbourne and Mr. Hadley have gone ahead of us,” the Lycan lord added. “We’ll meet them there.”
And when they did, Livi would have a few things to say to the elusive Grayson Hadley.
***
Gray tugged at his cravat. He might as well be a caged wolf for all the freedom he possessed in the Assembly Room. Gentlemen glanced at him in mild amusement and ladies giggled behind their fans. “Why am I even here?” he grumbled.
Archer frowned. “Because Dash ordered us here, that’s why.”
That was the truth of it. “I should have left for London last night before he arrived.”
His brother nodded in agreement. “Once again you should have listened to me. Now you are as stuck as I am. So try no
t to scowl at the ladies. After last night’s performance, you would do well to seem polite and more than a little sober.”
“Ah, Hadley!” A hand clapped Gray on the back. “I see you’ve washed the Avon from your person.”
Gray glanced over his shoulder to find Henry Siddington smirking. Until yesterday, Gray would have never given the man a second thought. Now he would gladly throw Siddington into the Avon and not feel a bit of remorse. Behind Siddington, Lord Robert Hayburn and his brother, the Marquess of Lavendon, both nodded a greeting in Gray’s direction.
“Washed the punch from his skin too,” Lord Robert laughed. Then he stepped forward with a conspiratorial glint in his eye. “Did you mean to douse that awkward chit with your punch, Hadley? Or was it an accident?”
Awkward chit? Gray ground his teeth together, but before he could respond, Archer cleared his throat. “It’s all Lavendon’s fault.”
The marquess scoffed good-naturedly. “I wasn’t even there, Radbourne.”
“No, but you made certain Grayson was more than deep in his cups before his arrival last night.”
Lavendon shrugged. “And here I thought you Hadley men could hold your liquor.”
“Liquor they can hold,” Lord Robert chortled. “It’s the punch they’re incapable of hanging on to.”
“I think I shall have to start attending musicales if they’re to be so entertaining,” Siddington chimed in. “Did Miss Mayeux actually say nique ta mère to you?”
Gray shook his head. “You are misinformed.”
“By everyone in attendance?” Siddington smirked again, and Gray had the overwhelming desire to smack the expression right from the jackass’ face. “I haven’t heard that phrase since I visited a Paris brothel some time ago. Where do you suppose she learned such a thing?”
Gray growled low in his throat, ready to pound Siddington right into the floorboards under his feet. But then the man’s expression changed to one of appreciation.
“I say,” Siddington murmured, “if she looks like that, she can say whatever she wants, just so long as she’s straddling me when she says it.”
