His Wicked Secret (The League of Rogues Book 8)

by Lauren Smith

  “Indeed,” the other man agreed. “Quite so—”

  “Ahem,” Leo growled softly as he stalked past the two men, his fists clenched in rage. Both of them jumped; apparently they’d deceived themselves into thinking he couldn’t hear them. Deaf old fools. Even at his own bloody club, he couldn’t escape the rumors, the whispering, the damned utter black scandal that his late father had brought down on his head. He didn’t want to remember having to deal with his father’s mistress or paying her off by letting her keep the house his father had purchased. The need to silence her and quiet the scandal as quickly as he could hadn’t been as successful as he’d hoped. London ballrooms and dinners caught rumors and scandals, spreading them like wildfire.

  Caruthers and his companion, now silent, watched him with keen interest as he settled in the only empty seat, one by the window facing St. James Street. On the street there was a mixture of motorcars and carriages. London was always busy in the fall with the season in full swing. For a brief moment, he let his thoughts wander away from the pain of listening to his family’s private business be fodder for entertainment. If only he could get in his car and drive away from it all…

  Despite the silence in the room, Leo knew that every man was focused on him.

  He raked a hand through his blond hair and stifled a groan. He’d been in London for all of three days, feverishly trying to secure investment opportunities and join in speculation schemes but it was no use. No one would work with him.

  Father has damned me and Mother for his selfishness!

  The spike of rage inside Leo was startling and so unlike him, but after having more than one door closed in his face today, he was exhausted. Even though it had been a year since his father had died, the scandal and the fervor behind it had yet to fade. His poor mother, Mina, refused to leave the countryside, knowing she’d have no real friends left in London who would allow her entrance to their homes. All because his father hadn’t been faithful. It was an accepted albeit awful practice for a man to carry on an affair, but a man didn’t die in his mistress’s bed after a night of bed play, and he certainly didn’t wrack up debts to pay for the care and keeping of that mistress. Yet that was exactly what his father had done.

  Leo reached into his pocket and removed a letter that his footman had delivered to him before he’d left for the club. He opened it, smoothing out the paper and reading the hastily written lines from his banker, praying for much needed good news.

  Lord Hampton,

  It is with my deepest regret that we cannot extend any of your family’s lines of credit at this time. We will be happy to discuss more credit if you can bring us new collateral but until then, the estate and all of your tenant farms connected thereto are fully mortgaged and cannot be further used to obtain additional credit.

  Sincerely,

  Thomas Atkinson

  The words filled Leo’s stomach with an empty ache. He had to find a way to stabilize his family’s estate or he would risk losing his mansion in the country. Hampton House was his home, more so than London ever would be, and to think of creditors pawing at his family’s furniture and running amok through the rooms of his childhood…

  I won’t let it happen. He would find someone to invest with, and he would bury his father’s scandal in whatever way he could by living a life above society’s reproach. He was going to marry a good English rose and not make the same mistakes his father did by allowing himself to become obsessed with some exotic beauty. Those sort of women were always trouble.

  He had always believed he might marry someday for love and have a wife who was as passionate as he was, but those dreams were dashed now. He had chosen a neighboring viscount’s daughter as his future bride for financial reasons. It was a chilling thought that he would soon tie his future to a woman without love, but it must be done.

  “Hampton?” A familiar voice shook him from his dark thoughts. Striding toward him was a man he recognized.

  “Hadley!” He grinned as relief at his friend’s appearance swept through him. He got to his feet and shook Owen Hadley’s hand. His dark-haired friend was smiling widely. Once, as boys at Eton, they had been inseparable, but then Owen and their friend Jack had gone off to fight in South Africa in the Second Boer War. When they returned, Jack and Owen had…changed. Leo hadn’t been able to leave to go fight; his father hadn’t allowed it. The estate was entailed to a male heir and as the only son, if Leo had perished beneath an African sun, some distant cousin would have taken over Hampton.

  “Haven’t seen you at the club in ages.” Hadley sat across from him at the small table beside the window. It didn’t escape Leo’s notice that Hadley’s clothes, while finely tailored, were a season out of fashion. Money troubles were apparently all the rage this season for young bachelors. Leo had enough money to pay his creditors now, but if he didn’t find a way to produce new income soon, he would be in trouble.

  “I’ve been in the country.” Leo hastily tucked the banker’s letter back into his coat pocket.

  Owen’s keen eyes missed little but he didn’t ask what the letter was about. “You look tired, old friend.”

  “Do I?” Leo mused glumly. “Since my father died, it has been a trial to set the estate to rights.”

  “Are you afraid you’ll lose it?” Owen asked quietly.

  “No…at least not yet.” Leo sighed. “But I cannot get a single man in London to let me partake in investments or speculation. The economy of the tenant farms simply isn’t what it used to be and we need more stability.” He leaned back in the leather armchair, wishing he could stay here in the club and not have to face the world outside.

  “Cheer up!” Owen grinned. “Why don’t we go find something to entertain us? It’s been months and you could use some fun.”

  Leo shook his head. As much as he wished to throw his cares to the wind, he couldn’t. His father’s scandal had forced him to live a life of boredom. It was the only way he might find favor with society again, and that was crucial if he was to preserve Hampton House and everyone who depended on him.

  “Perhaps another time. I suppose I ought to get back to Hampton at any rate. Lord knows what Mother will have gotten up to while I was away.”

  His friend laughed heartily. “Your mother is a dear. Any trouble she causes is a delight.”

  Leo brushed his hair back from his eyes. “You don’t have to live with her.”

  “Touché.” Owen shrugged. “At least she’s not involved with those suffragettes. You know they’re having meetings all over the country right now?”

  “Lord, don’t even breathe a word of women’s rights around my mother.” Leo and Owen both glanced around the club to make sure no one was listening. Talking of suffragettes had a way of rousing trouble in a gentleman’s club, one of the few places that completely barred women.

  “Well, I won’t keep you, Hampton, but write to me the next time you’re in town. We should have a drink.”

  “Agreed.” Leo shook Owen’s hand and they both rose from their chairs. It would have been a fine thing to sit and talk with his old friend. They’d survived much together, but after today with his failures and knowing the talk of scandal was still clinging to his family even after a year, he was ready to run home with his tail tucked firmly between his legs. Tomorrow he would find another way to protect his home…tomorrow.

  Chapter 2

  “Now that your father is dead, I intend to indulge in scandalous behavior.”

  Leo choked on the sandwich he’d just bitten into. He’d been back from London for only one day, and his mother was already trying to kill him. His gaze shot to her face. The Dowager Countess of Hampton slid into a chair opposite him at the large oak dining room table where he was currently eating luncheon. She smoothed her lace tea gown over her lap and fixed him with a steady gaze.

  Blood roared through his ears as he struggled to dislodge the bit of sandwich from his throat. Damn cucumber…can’t get it out…He coughed violently and was finally able to get a b
it of breath back in his lungs.

  “Breathe, my dear, breathe,” she intoned gently as though instructing a child of four, not her grown son of thirty-two. He adored his mother, but she had the uncanny ability of rankling him when he least needed to be rankled.

  He reached forward and snatched his water goblet, hastily gulping the liquid. A cold nose nudged his other hand and he glanced down, seeing Ladybird, his chocolate-colored English cocker spaniel, lean against his knee. She whined softly when their eyes met. At least there was one sympathetic female in this house that wasn’t determined to do him in.

  “Mother,” Leo finally got out. “What on earth are you talking about?” Could a man not enjoy a simple meal in peace? His eyes flicked heavenward as he prayed for patience. He supposed he should count himself lucky.

  Before his father had died, he, Owen, and Jack had been constantly treading the line between propriety and scandal. He had caused more than one lady’s father to eye him askance during a house party or a ball. Leo openly admitted he loved pleasure and the challenge of wooing a woman into his bed. But those days were gone. He was supposed to be keeping out of trouble to restore the family name. The last thing he needed was his mother getting into more trouble than usual.

  The dowager countess perched regally, and one hand brushed a few loose hairs back into her elaborate coiffure. The light threading of silver amidst the gold was the only hint of her middling years having just passed. Considering how unhappy her marriage had been to his father, it was impressive that she still looked so well. It never ceased to upset him to think his father had spent nights in the arms of another when he had a beautiful wife at home. But then again, his father had been quite a fool.

  “We are finally out of our year of mourning, and I wish to enjoy life.” Her words were wistful in a way that made his chest tight. Her eyes narrowed as she continued. “I wasn’t allowed to do so while the old tyrant still lived.” The biting edge to her tone made him wince.

  He had known his parents suffered through a loveless marriage, but her frankness about it was a little unsettling. One was not supposed to talk of such things so openly, but his mother had always been open. She was wild where his father had been cold and calm. He’d taken after her in that regard, and she’d never once challenged him on his rakish ways or his tendency to break the hearts of young ladies. But that was because he was a man; a lady had a higher duty to herself and to society to avoid scandal. If his mother was talking of living recklessly, he did not want to know the details. Leo dreaded whatever scheme she was planning now that she could enter society again without violating the strict dictates of her mourning period.

  “Well?” She lifted a teacup to her lips, sipping it patiently.

  “Well what?” He drank his water and studied her over the rim of the crystal glass. Since his father had died, he’d grown closer to his mother and he’d learned to read her. Right now, she was waiting for him to make the first move in this game she was playing.

  For the last few months she’d been working tirelessly to get him away from Hampton House and to return to London. He knew he should be suspicious of her schemes but he wasn’t going to fall back into old habits, no matter how tempting it would be to call upon his friends, spend nights at his club, live the life of a wild bachelor as he’d done well enough before his father died. Things were different now.

  I cannot be that man anymore, the carefree fool who didn’t know his life was on the brink of collapse.

  His father’s passing had left a hefty amount of death taxes that could bankrupt Hampton, and it was Leo’s duty to find a way out from under that crushing weight. After the last three days in London and his continued failures to find a source of additional income, he was afraid for the future of his family. His estate wasn’t the only one in danger of being broken by debts.

  Only last week he’d visited the neighboring property to the west and learned that the Ashfords were selling their house because Lord Ashford’s death had left them deeply in debt. An auctioneer had been examining family portraits and the collection of china and silver while Lady Ashford wept quietly in the corner of the drawing room, her two children sitting beside her, faces drawn tight with grief. It was a bloody bleak affair and Leo would not let that happen to Hampton. Even if it meant sacrificing his own happiness, he would see the estate remain intact.

  His mother cleared her throat when he failed to respond. “Let’s hear your objections. I know you wish to stop me and will insist we both live frugally and quietly.”

  Those very words had been on the tip of his tongue. He was a man of business and was keeping the Hampton estate alive based on such notions. Still…he preferred not to face his mother’s obvious scorn over the valuable life lesson his father’s passing had taught him. To care for a vast estate, a man could not simply gallivant about and live like a veritable rogue as he had when he’d been younger. It was even more important that he work to clear the Hampton name in society or they would be in dire straits before long. His father’s mistress and the unsavory way he’d passed in her bed had set tongues wagging and doors slamming in his face so hard that Leo was afraid he might never be viewed reputably.

  His days of wildness were behind him. He had his duty to his lands and to his family. They could not let this house be sold or their lives destroyed by losing a home that had been his family’s for three hundred years.

  “What”—he paused, hoping his concern didn’t show—“exactly do you intend to do by indulging in scandalous behavior?” It was entirely possible that his mother’s idea of scandal was far tamer than his. They were called the gentler sex for a reason.

  “I am going into the village to attend a little political meeting. I’ve arranged to meet some ladies who share my views and—”

  “Good God! You aren’t talking about that women’s suffrage nonsense, are you?” Leo set his napkin on the table and scowled imperiously at his mother.

  Mina’s brows arched and her spine stiffened. “I most certainly am. I am quite moved by their cause. Did you know we once had the right to vote? Back in the days of feudal society?”

  Leo groaned and nearly smacked his palm into his forehead in frustration. God’s teeth, this was not a matter he wished to be dealing with.

  “Mother, you cannot go to any such meeting, and I don’t give a bloody damn if women were voting back in the days of mud and squalor. That was the damned middle ages for Christ’s sake. People were dropping dead of plague and nothing in life was certain. Now things are safe; there’s no need for women to have a vote. The men of this country are quite capable of deciding matters of state for you.”

  The stark look of pain and rage in his mother’s eyes was startling. He hadn’t expected to see her react so…openly to his words.

  “How can you say that…to me? After the way your father made us live, you would continue to deprive me of a voice?”

  Leo rubbed his temples. “No, that’s not what I meant, Mother. Please, try to understand. I have much to do and I cannot be worrying about you. People in London are talking…” He didn’t want to continue but he had to make her understand that her actions could make matters worse.

  “Talking? About what?” she asked quietly. Her blue eyes were dark and shadowed now.

  “Father, about him and that woman. I couldn’t get in to see half the gentlemen I used to before.”

  His mother seemed to understand now, her blue eyes wide with worry. “It’s the money, isn’t it? You’re worried and we’ve lost so much face because of…him.”

  His throat tightened painfully and he nodded. He had let her down, had failed to do what he needed to in London, and it was destroying him to see her realize that.

  She leaned over and placed one hand on top of his on the table, squeezing it. “Then I shan’t go to the meeting. I would like a house party instead. Surely we can afford that?” she asked, hope brimming in her tone.

  He smiled a little. “Yes, we can certainly afford a house party, Mother.”r />
  She brightened again, the worries chased quickly away. “Excellent! I wish to have it next weekend. Guests will arrive here on Friday and stay through Monday. I’m planning to invite all sorts of people, including Mr. Leighton. He owns the London News Weekly, which has all of those sensational articles regarding social and political intrigue. He has a lovely daughter—”

  Ahh, therein lies her true goal. Not scandal, but marriage. He almost wondered if her plans to join the ranks of the suffragettes was merely to rile him up. No doubt she assumed he would agree to a house party instead because it was much less scandalous…and it would give her a chance to throw eligible ladies at his feet.

  Leo’s lips twitched. She was clever, his mother, but not clever enough to fool him into putting himself up for sale on the marriage mart. He waved a hand in the air.

  “No. No matchmaking. You know full well that I intend to propose to Mildred Pepperwirth.” He had been planning this for the last two months. He’d been to see their neighbors in Pepperwirth Vale and had made his intentions to Viscount Pepperwirth quite clear. Mildred was a good, solid choice for a wife. Beautiful, intelligent, and with a clean established English pedigree that would raise the Hampton title back up in the eyes of society.

  An extremely unladylike snort escaped his mother’s lips. “Bah! Mildred Pepperwirth. Leo, dear, are you determined to give me dull, witless grandchildren? Don’t repeat my mistakes.” Her eyes darkened and the lines around her eyes and mouth seemed more pronounced as she frowned. “Marry for love. Marry a woman who makes you furious, who drives you mad, a woman who makes your heart bleed if you even think of living one day without her. Don’t marry some simpering fool with a hefty dowry simply because you feel compelled to do your duty to your father and this house. She isn’t the woman for you. You need someone forward thinking, dear, and Mildred…well…She is far too traditional.”