“What the devil?” Bellingham said.
She entreated him with her eyes. “It is Montclief, Justin’s guardian. Please, say nothing of Justin to him,” she said in a low tone.
“Why?” he said. “If he is the guardian—”
“Please,” she said, aware that her voice shook. “There is no time to explain. I will do anything you ask, but I beg you not to betray me.”
He arched his brows. “Anything?”
“Yes, anything,” she said, worrying her hands.
He snared her with his blue eyes. “Be careful what you promise.”
Oh dear. Perhaps she should have qualified her response, but there was no time for that now. She must gather her scattered wits and pretend to be perfectly at ease. The notion would have been laughable, if she weren’t so desperate. Dear God, she had no idea how she would deal with that rakehell, but for now, she must focus solely on her son’s guardian. She entreated Bellingham with her eyes once more. “Please, I beg you to concur with whatever I say.”
“What will you say?”
A good question, but the door opened and Reed said, “Mr. Montclief, my lady.”
Laura clasped her hands hard. What would Montclief think when he saw her with a scoundrel in her drawing room? Somehow she must concoct a story, but her frazzled mind refused to work properly.
Montclief entered with a thunderous expression, and then he stopped short upon seeing Bellingham.
Laura curtsied and noted her brother-in-law’s hair had thinned considerably since she’d last seen him at her husband’s funeral four years ago. She took a deep breath and said, “Montclief, what a delightful surprise. I just received your letter today but had no idea you meant to visit. Obviously you wish to see for yourself that all is well in London.” Heavens, she was babbling like a fool.
Montclief narrowed his eyes. “Laura, you are clearly discomposed.” He turned toward Bellingham. “Will you not introduce me to your gentleman caller?”
Doubtless, Montclief had assumed the worst. He probably thought she’d brought Justin here on a pretext so that she could dally with her nonexistent lover. “Lord Bellingham, may I introduce Mr. Montclief? He is my stepson’s uncle and guardian.”
Montclief bowed. “My lord, of course I know your name from the papers.”
Drat. Montclief had probably seen the mention of the Earl of B—ham in the scandal sheets. Oh, this was a disaster in the making.
“That criminal conversation case before parliament must have been quite the sensation,” Montclief said.
“It was a dead bore,” Bellingham said.
Laura frowned. “Criminal conversation?”
“Pardon me. It is an indelicate subject for a lady,” Montclief said.
A devilish expression lit Bellingham’s eyes. “It is a euphemism for adultery.”
She rolled her eyes. “How ridiculous. Why not call a spade a spade?”
“My sentiments exactly,” Bellingham said.
No doubt he’d participated in criminal conversation on any number of occasions. “Shall we be seated? I will ring for a tea tray. You must be thirsty after your journey, Montclief.”
“I wish to see my nephew.”
“He is out,” she said. From the corner of her eye, she saw Bellingham lift his brows in a skeptical manner, but she must not lose her focus. “His friend George took him in his curricle to Gunthers for ices.” The explanation sounded innocent enough to her. In truth, Justin had slept past noon, and then George had arrived. When Laura asked where they were going, Justin had regarded her with a mulish expression and walked out the door.
“When do you expect him to return?” Montclief said, narrowing his eyes.
“I cannot say for certain. They will probably take a turn round Rotten Row at the fashionable hour,” she said. “I hope you will dine with us.” She hoped nothing of the kind, but she must be polite, even to her loathsome brother-in-law.
Montclief’s severe expression did not bode well. “We must discuss my nephew.” He turned his attention to Bellingham. “Obviously this is a family matter. I’m sure you understand.”
Laura’s stomach clenched. The last thing she wanted was to be alone with Montclief. When Bellingham opened his mouth as if to speak, Laura knew she must intervene. “Actually, Lord Bellingham has taken an interest in Justin.” Oh, heavens, Bellingham would likely deny her claim.
Montclief looked at Bellingham and let out a long sigh. “So you, too, have seen him running wild in the streets.”
Oh, no. She was about to refute the statement, but Bellingham spoke before she could. “I saw them in the garden with friends at a ball last night.”
At least he’d not given anything away—yet. “Yes, he saw Justin last evening, but there’s no need for alarm,” Laura said.
Montclief ignored her and returned his attention to Bellingham. “Was he drinking spirits?”
Laura held her breath and entreated Bellingham with her eyes once again.
Bellingham glanced at her and then shrugged. “I cannot say.”
Laura clasped her hands. “You see, it was all a misunderstanding.”
When Montclief narrowed his eyes, she knew she’d said the wrong thing. “There is no misunderstanding. I have a letter from a friend in London who saw Justin drinking from a flask on the streets. You should have contacted me about this matter. I demand an explanation.”
She must not let her composure slip. “All is well now.”
Bellingham gave her a brief, dubious look.
“Laura,” Montclief said, “all is not well. You brought my nephew to London without asking my permission and have concealed his inappropriate behavior. I cannot rely on your poor judgment.”
She itched to give him the set down he deserved, but she did not dare incur his wrath. “There is no need for alarm. I have matters under control.” She’d lied, but what else could she do?
“You are only a woman and incapable of managing a high-spirited boy,” Montclief said. “He needs the daily influence of a man.”
Desperation gripped her like talons. “You need not worry, Montclief,” she said. “Lord Bellingham is helping to turn the tide.” She held her breath, fearing Bellingham would deny her claim.
Bellingham kept his expression impassive. “Young men need to understand that it is wrong to take advantage of one’s mother.”
He’d adeptly avoided lying and had not betrayed her. She could kiss his big boots.
“I appreciate your assistance, Bellingham,” Montclief said. “However, I have already made my decision. My nephew needs more than passing male influence.” He turned to Laura. “Please see that his trunks are packed. I will take him home with me tomorrow. You may reside in the house in Hampshire until he reaches his majority.”
She couldn’t breathe. This could not be happening. He was her son. Montclief had never taken any interest in Justin—until now. Oh, God, she would not let Montclief take her son away. “No,” she said. “No, please do not take him.”
“Laura, this is not negotiable,” Montclief said.
Panic rose up in her chest. She was breathing too fast. The fear of losing Justin nearly overwhelmed her, but she must persuade Montclief to change his mind. “You have such a large brood already and are overly tasked. I have looked after Justin all these years.” I love him too much to let you take him away.
He gave her a patronizing look and shook his head.
She pressed her nails into her palms to keep from blurting out what she really thought of Montclief’s negligence these past four years. As much as she despised him, she could not afford to antagonize her brother-in-law. “He’s already lost his father. I am his mother, and if you take him away, he will feel that I have abandoned him.”
“You are his stepmother,” Montclief corrected.
His words stung, for he’d implied that she wasn’t a real mother, but she would not allow his slight to deter her. No matter what anyone thought, Justin was her son. She would do whatever it took
to keep him with her, including placating Montclief. “I believe Justin deserves another chance. I will emphasize that he must behave—”
“You’ve already proven you are incapable of it,” Montclief said. “I’ve made my decision, and that is the end of the discussion.”
After all this time, Montclief meant to exercise his rights as a guardian. The disbelief started to wear off, and then her hands trembled. She clutched them tightly, because she didn’t want Montclief to see her anguish. “He hasn’t even seen you for four years. It will be hard on him.”
Montclief puffed up. “The material point is that you cannot give my nephew the discipline and guidance that he needs.”
She would do anything—anything—to keep Montclief from taking Justin away. But what could she do to convince her brother-in-law? Oh, God, she must think of some way to change his mind. Laura thought back over the entire conversation, and one thing he’d said stood out. My nephew needs more than passing male influence.
The answer popped into her head. She met Bellingham’s gaze again and prayed he would go along with her scheme. At this point, she had nothing to lose—except her son. And she refused to give him up without a fight.
God forgive me, but I cannot live without my son.
She drew closer to Bellingham and forced herself to smile. “I suppose we should tell Montclief our happy news.”
Suspicion flickered in his blue eyes. “I’ll allow you to reveal the particulars.”
She clasped his arm and faced Montclief. “You mustn’t worry about Justin needing a man to guide him.” She took a deep breath and said, “I have this day accepted Lord Bellingham’s proposal of marriage.”
The woman was mad.
Bell had sensed her desperation climbing as she’d tried to persuade Montclief to let her keep the boy, but he’d never guessed she would resort to this witless fabrication.
Montclief folded his arms over his chest. “You have been in London for a very short time, Laura. This engagement is sudden, too sudden.”
“Montclief, I said nothing before because I did not know our relationship would take such a romantic turn,” Laura said. “Lord Bellingham and I met last fall in Hampshire.”
Bell suspected the wayward Justin had learned to lie from his inventive mother.
She regarded Bell with a dazzling smile. “I met him by pure coincidence while visiting one of the shops in the village. Isn’t that right, my dear?”
He nodded, hoping she wouldn’t get too carried away. The less she said the better.
“It was raining,” she said, “and we were stuck in the shop. Having nothing better to do, we struck up a conversation. When the rain stopped, we walked outside and he laid his coat over a puddle for me.” She batted her eyes at him. “That was the moment I fell for my Bellingham.”
She was the worst liar in the kingdom.
“Laura, this engagement is suspect,” Montclief said.
Bellingham agreed, but he didn’t like Montclief. From the bits she’d revealed, he gathered Montclief had taken no interest in his nephew until now. Most likely, the only reason he’d intervened was because he’d gotten embarrassed when his friend in London had sent him the letter about his nephew.
Laura looked quite determined as she gazed into Bell’s eyes. “I would do anything for my Bellingham. Anything,” she added with emphasis.
He most certainly would hold her to that promise.
Montclief addressed him. “Is this true, Bellingham? You have proposed to Laura?”
He almost exposed her as a liar, but he’d seen her hands shake when Montclief had declared he would take her son away. Bell figured the boy’s rebellion would grow far worse under Montclief’s thumb. On the other hand, Bell didn’t want to find himself trapped in a marriage, either. “We are keeping the engagement a secret for the time being.” Why not add one more lie to the growing pile?
Laura exhaled in obvious relief. “Yes, we are concealing our engagement in order to give Justin time to get to know Bellingham. We wish Justin to feel at ease with him before we exchange vows. Of course, we shall rely on your discretion, Montclief.”
Montclief narrowed his eyes. “Laura, this engagement rings false.” He turned his attention to Bellingham. “What I cannot understand is why Bellingham would act as your accomplice?”
Because I despise you for bullying her. Aloud, he said, “Are you implying that our engagement is a criminal act?”
“You know very well what I meant,” Montclief said.
Bell had tolerated Montclief long enough. He strode over to the much shorter man and loomed over him. “You dare to question my word?” he said in a low, warning tone.
Montclief lifted his chin and his nostrils flared. “It is my responsibility to see that my nephew is well cared for and made to behave. I am the best person to see it done.”
“Really? If your nephew walked in the door, would you recognize him?” Bell asked.
Montclief’s face flushed. “You have no say in this, Bellingham. You are no relation to the boy.”
“But when we marry, Bellingham will be Justin’s stepfather,” Laura said. “He will oversee Justin’s activities. Montclief, you need not trouble yourself again.”
In one fell swoop, Bell had acquired a faux fiancée and a rebellious adolescent. He was beginning to feel as if he’d stepped onstage in one of Shakespeare’s comedies.
“Wait,” Montclief said. “I did not agree to this plan.”
“But you said that Justin needed daily male guidance,” Laura said. “With five other boys, your hands are full. You will not be able to give Justin nearly as much attention as Bellingham can. Why, I’m sure he will take the boy under his wing almost immediately,” she said.
Wonderful. Now she’d volunteered him to play nursemaid to a seventeen-year-old.
Montclief regarded them both with a scowl. “Fair warning. I will come to London periodically to see how matters are progressing. If I hear that my nephew is running wild again, I will remove him immediately.”
The man strutted to the door and set his hand on the knob.
Bell couldn’t wait to be rid of him so that he could collect on Laura’s promise.
Montclief paused, and then he looked over his shoulder. “One more thing. I expect there will be no illicit liaisons while my nephew is residing under this roof.”
“How dare you make such an accusation?” Laura said in shocked tones. “I would never engage in immoral conduct.”
She’d conveniently forgotten her promise to him, but he wasn’t about to let her off the hook after she’d involved him in this farce.
“See that you remember it, Laura,” Montclief said. “I trust I need not repeat the consequences.”
When the door shut behind Montclief, Bellingham muttered, “That man is an ass.”
She covered her mouth and collapsed on the red striped sofa. When fat tears welled in her green eyes, Bell whipped out his handkerchief. “It’s all over.”
Her bottom lip quivered as she took the handkerchief, and then she hastily dabbed it at her eyes. “Thank you,” she said.
Bell squatted beside her. “The only reason he came here is because his pride took a hit when his friend sent him the letter. His abusive language to you was out of bounds.”
She folded the handkerchief in a little square. When she tried to hand it back to him, he waved it off.
“He would have t-taken Justin if you had not been here,” she stammered.
If Montclief had insisted, there wouldn’t have been a damned thing Bell could have done. She obviously loved the boy, but unless she got her son under control, his guardian would likely remove him.
She inhaled and released a shaky breath. “Thank you. How much do you want?”
He frowned. “I beg your pardon?”
“I’m prepared to pay you. My son means everything to me. Name the price,” she said.
“I do not need money,” he said.
“I must say your idea to keep the enga
gement a secret was quite brilliant,” she said.
“Frankly, I did it for my own protection. I’ve no wish to find myself caught in the parson’s mousetrap.”
She patted his arm. “You need not worry. I do not wish to marry again.”
He rose and helped her to stand.
“Are you certain you do not want some form of compensation?” she asked. “Would fifty pounds suffice?”
A slow grin tugged at his mouth. “My fortune is such that I will be unlikely to spend it all in my lifetime.”
“You’re a lucky man,” she said, eyeing the door as if she were contemplating escape.
He stepped right in front of her. “I had something else in mind.”
“Oh?” she said.
He gazed at her lush mouth. “Something more pleasurable.”
“Brandy?” she said, her voice a bit squeaky.
“Guess again.”
“Port?”
He caught her hand. “You.”
She gasped and stepped back. “My lord, I am a respectable widow.”
“You promised to do anything I asked.”
“I was desperate.”
Bell noticed her clenching and unclenching her skirts and sighed. He’d never coerced a woman before, and he wasn’t about to start now. He drew in breath to tell her that he’d only been teasing, but she spoke beforehand.
“I suppose I ought to honor my promise,” she said. “What do you want, my lord?”
He blinked. “What are you willing to give?”
She smoothed her skirts. “Since we are affianced, at least temporarily, and you’ve no need for money, I suppose I could grant you a…a kiss.”
He struggled to keep his amusement from showing. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
She wrinkled her little nose. “I am the one who took advantage, my lord. You were kind enough not to expose me, but if you do not wish to kiss me, I will understand.”
“Did you have something else in mind?” He could provide ample suggestions, none of which any respectable lady would agree to do.
Her face flushed. “Oh, no. A kiss would do, if that is acceptable to you.”
“Hmmm. A faux engagement is no small thing, but if it’s a special kiss, I suppose that would even the score between us.” Surely she knew he was jesting.
What a Wicked Earl Wants Page 3
