by Ava Stone
I never imagined I would ever be parenting alone, Robert. So I am seeking your advice in regard to Rachel. On the chance that you might remember when I was her age, how did you…
A scratch came at her door and Caroline looked up from her vellum. “Come.”
And then Simmons poked his head into the sitting room. “Lady Juliet Beckford and Lady Carraway have come to call.”
Juliet and Felicity? That was a surprise. Caroline didn’t think her brother and Juliet were even due in London for another sennight. She placed her quill back on her desk and pushed up to her feet. Her letter to Robert would have to wait. “Thank you, Simmons. Where are they?”
“The white parlor, milady.”
Perfect. “Please deliver tea and biscuits,” she said as she started toward her borrowed servant.
“Or course, ma’am,” he agreed with a nod.
Caroline made her way to her white parlor and greeted the two ladies with a genuine smile. “Juliet darling.” She began as she breezed into the room and hugged her sister-in-law. “I didn’t know you and Luke were in Town all ready.”
“Fin was summoned for a meeting with Sidmouth,” Felicity, Viscountess Carraway, began from her spot on the settee, before Juliet returned to her seat. “So my protective older sister refused to let us come to London without her being right at my side.”
“You’ve seen how long it’s taken Livvie to claw her way back into society’s good graces since her marriage,” Juliet retuned. “I dare anyone to give Felicity the cut direct in my presence.”
Juliet did have a certain reputation. One that would see even the most feared dragon quaking in her fashionable slippers. She was such a devoted, loyal, and fierce lioness when she was of a mind, which was most of the time. In fact, Caroline was still rather proud with how she’d brought her brother and the very formidable Juliet together. It was, by far, one of her grandest achievements.
“I am so glad to see you both.” Caroline dropped into a chintz chair across from the sisters.
“And us, you,” Juliet assured her. “Luke would have come with us, but he had a pressing matter to attend to. So he asked me to send his love and vowed he would see you himself, very soon.”
“How are you holding up?” Felicity asked rather pointedly, missing her usual airy cheerfulness.
“Managing,” Caroline replied, giving her standard answer these days. Then she glanced toward Juliet. “I was just dashing off a letter to Robert when you arrived, hoping he might have advice for dealing with a headstrong sixteen-year-old girl.”
Her sister-in-law bit back a grin. “Well, expect him to suggest marrying her off to the first eligible fellow you meet.”
As Robert had done with Caroline. She shook her head. “I was hoping he might have mellowed some in his old age and might offer some sage advice.”
“The day Robert Beckford mellows, I do believe the end is nigh for all of us.”
Juliet might be right about that. Her oldest brother was of the stodgy variety. Of course, he had mellowed some now that Lydia was in his life, but Juliet hadn’t known him before that time. She’d only met Robert after he was happily married and could only judge the residual stodginess, which was still a defining characteristic in her oldest brother.
“Yes, well, if Georgie was here, I’d certainly have gone to her instead,” Caroline began, missing her once oldest friend the moment Georgie’s name left her lips. Her dearly departed friend had done a remarkable job with her own siblings, and her advice would most certainly have been sage.
“Oh heavens,” Felicity laughed in response. “I’m sure you don’t want her turning out like me. My sainted sister could only offer so much guidance when it came to my foolish stubbornness.”
In actuality, all of the daughters of the late-Duke of Prestwick had been born with stubborn streaks; Georgie was no exception to that. While each of the siblings might all have had different mothers, that Prestwick stubbornness they all possessed had to have been inherited from their father.
“You are perfectly delightful.” Juliet eyed her younger sister. “If I won’t allow others to disparage you, I certainly won’t allow you to do so to yourself.”
“I have landed myself in perfectly delightful messes,” Felicity countered and then the young blonde flushed a brilliant shade of red as her gaze flashed to Caroline. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to make light…”
To make light of the fact that Felicity’s most famous and scandalous mistake had ended in David’s death, among others. That’s what she meant, and no matter how many times Caroline had insisted that she didn’t hold Felicity responsible for her now-late husband’s actions, the girl still blamed herself. “Pierce’s actions were his own,” she said for what had to be the millionth time. “Your escape from him was very brave. Georgie would have been very proud of your resourcefulness.”
Juliet shifted in her seat and pinned Caroline with a look. “Is Rachel giving you fits?”
Caroline blew out a breath. “She’s getting older, wants to be more independent, and I’m trying my best to ensure her safety.”
Simmons entered with a tea tray and placed it on a side table before quietly excusing himself. He actually was a decent butler, regardless of how he’d come into her life.
Caroline poured a couple cups and then handed them to her guests.
“Thank you,” Felicity said, smiling softly. And then she added, “I’ve been thinking about what you said a moment ago. If Georgie had been slightly less strict with me, I’m not certain I would have jumped into that horrible marriage to Aaron with both feet.”
“That’s hardly Georgie’s fault.” Juliet frowned as Caroline resumed her seat.
“No, no, of course not.” Felicity shook her head. “I didn’t mean to imply that it was. The fault is entirely mine, and I was actually younger than Rachel is now when I ended up married the first time. But I’m thinking about the thoughts and feelings I had at the time. So you certainly don’t have to pay my council any heed at all, it’s just… perhaps if Rachel has a bit of freedom to be independent and doesn’t feel so confined, she might not be so inclined to do something extraordinarily foolish the moment she has a bit of room.”
Caroline wasn’t sure what she thought about that. It sounded perfectly fine, she supposed in theory, but not quite so fine in the reality of guiding her daughter. “I will certainly consider your words,” she said, though she had no intention of doing that at all. But Felicity’s heart was in the right place and there was no reason to discount the girl when she was simply trying to help.
Simmons cleared his throat from the doorway and drew Caroline’s attention to him. “The Earl of Peasemore is here to see you, milady.”
Peasemore? Heavens! She wasn’t ready for the earl yet. But he was here, so there was nothing for it. But before she could give instructions to her butler…
“Oh, do send him in,” Felicity said with what sounded like feigned cheerfulness.
What was that about? Caroline glanced at the young viscountess, hoping to get some clue from the lady’s demeanor. But Felicity looked as serene as one possibly could. So Caroline turned her attention back to her butler and nodded for Simmons to follow Felicity’s instructions. A moment later, Lord Peasemore, looking as dashing as ever in a blue jacket and buff trousers, strode into the parlor and halted in his step the moment he spotted Felicity.
“Well, Sebastian Alder,” Felicity began airily, “as I live and breathe. Fin will be so relieved to learn you are still among the living.”
He seemed to swallow a bit uncomfortably. “Dramatic as ever, I see,” he returned.
“Some things never change.” She shrugged. “And neither do some people.”
“I had no idea you were in Town.” Peasemore walked further into the room and stopped in front of the chintz chair that was the exact match of Caroline’s. “You may tell my cousin that I’ll visit him shortly,” he said as he took the seat.
“Fin will be thrilled, I’m certain.” Fe
licity beamed at the earl. “Now that we’ve dealt with that, Sebastian, I’m practically dying to know why you’re calling at Staveley House.”
The earl shook his head. “Well, Lady Staveley and I are old friends,” he said even though that wasn’t true in the least. In fact, this last week, Caroline had spoken with Peasemore more than she had in at least a dozen seasons, she was sure. But as he clearly didn’t want the other ladies to know the real reason for his visit, she wasn’t about to say as much. “I hardly think it’s unusual to call on one’s friends, Felicity. You don’t see me questioning your visit.”
Which might have taken things a bit far…
Felicity scoffed. “Honestly, Sebastian, if you’re going to lie, you should be better at it. I have known Caroline the better part of my life. And I know for a fact the same can’t be said for you.” She shook her head, making her blonde curls bounce with surety. “So that can only make me wonder the true nature of your visit. Are you up to something nefarious? You’ve certainly piqued my interest now.”
He heaved an unhappy sigh. “Do you know I suggested that Fin should marry you? I am now rethinking that advice.”
“Too late for that,” she said cheerfully. “Now out with it. What are you really up to? You know I’ll find out anyway.”
Peasemore leaned back in his chair, a look of resignation settled across his too-handsome face. “Grandmother has made it quite clear that I need a bride. So I’ve enlisted Lady Staveley’s assistance in that regard.”
Apparently, Felicity wasn’t expecting that answer as her brow creased in response. “A bride?”
“Most fellows do eventually marry,” he told her.
“Yes,” Felicity agreed cautiously. “But that doesn’t mean they should.”
“Felicity,” Juliet breathed out in admonishment.
But that didn’t even make the young viscountess pause. “I’m entirely serious. I barely escaped with my life from my first marriage. The institution is for life. And rushing into something because the duchess has commanded it hardly seems like the proper course.”
At that, Peasemore scowled slightly, looking quite affronted. “I do hope you’re not comparing me to Aaron Pierce.”
“Of course not.” Felicity shook her head. “Situations do not have to be as dire as mine was to make two people who are wrong for each other, who married for the wrong reasons, unhappy all of their lives.”
“Which is precisely why I’m here.” He heaved a sigh. “Lady Staveley is positively famous for her brilliant matches. I have all the confidence in the world she can help me find the right girl, one who will make me happy the rest of my days.”
Felicity turned her piercing blue eyes on Caroline. “Do you have such a paragon in mind, Caroline?”
“Not yet,” she admitted. “Though this morning, I was thinking perhaps Lady Rosalie Ratcliffe.”
Felicity’s frown darkened. “No. Lady Rose is too sweet for him.”
“It is a wonder,” Peasemore drawled, “that I came to Lady Staveley for assistance instead of coming to you, Felicity.”
“She doesn’t know you as well as I do. A girl of Rose Ratcliffe’s nature would crumble beneath you. And your usual choice of opera singers would hardly appease the duke and duchess.” She shook her head once more. “You’d need someone somewhere in between. Someone with a backbone to stand up to you. And someone proper enough to be a duchess someday.”
“Most girls fall all over themselves at the thought of being a duchess,” Peasemore said. “I’m certain I can have my pick of whomever I’d like.”
“And most girls are idiots,” Juliet replied. Then she heaved a sigh of her own. “Honestly, my lord, you are talking to the wrong group of ladies to say something as silly as that. Four different young ladies, including your cousin Pamela, married our father because of his dukedom. And not one of them led a happy existence from that point until their deaths. I saw it with my own eyes. So did Felicity. And don’t even get me started on fortune hunters…”
“I have my own fortune,” Peasemore said. “Or I will,” he amended a moment later. “I’m not looking for an heiress. I’m just looking for a pleasant girl who will do.”
“If you are dead set on marriage,” Felicity began, “then you should be looking for love, Sebastian. Nothing else matters at the end of the day.”
“She is right,” Juliet added. “Marriage is not always easy, but with a foundation of love, it can thrive.”
“Well, my dear Lord Peasemore,” Caroline said with a grin. “You may have only bargained for my assistance, but I do believe you now have all three of us.”
“Cordie’s ball is tonight, isn’t it?” Juliet asked.
The Clayworth ball was that very evening. Caroline nodded in response. “Shall we all attend?”
“I may even be able to drag Fin away from politicking this evening.”
Chapter 9
Well, Staveley House was certainly lively today, wasn’t it? A peel of laughter spilled out onto the front stoop as Simmons opened the door and greeted Marc with a nod of his head.
“Milord, do come in,” the butler said.
Marc stepped inside the townhouse and handed his hat to the butler. “Is she entertaining?”
Simmons nodded as he shut the door behind Marc. “Quite popular today. Lady Carraway, Lady Juliet, and Lord Peasemore are in there now.”
Well, that was an odd trio. Not Felicity Carraway and Juliet Beckford. They were sisters. But Peasemore? Just the man’s name made Marc scowl. “Jackass,” he muttered.
“Beg your pardon?” Simmons asked.
“Keep an eye on Peasemore. I don’t like the fellow.”
“Of course,” the butler agreed.
Marc heaved a sigh as he glanced down the corridor to make certain they wouldn’t be overheard. “That damn Blackaby tracked me down at Gentleman Jackson’s yesterday.”
Simmons nodded. “I was afraid he might after Lady Staveley summoned him.”
The annoying gnat from Bow Street. Though he had given Marc an important piece of information. “Staveley’s journal is still missing, I assume?”
“No one has found it yet,” the butler replied. “But her ladyship hasn’t mentioned it today either, though she has been busy.”
“I don’t imagine it will turn up,” Marc said. “Though I doubt the thief got what he wanted from it.”
“Sir?” Simmons frowned.
“Staveley was odd, to be sure. But I doubt he’d decode something for the Home Office in his personal journal. If the deciphered code is here, it’ll be in the library somewhere. That was the man’s true domain.”
“I will search—”
The sound of little slippered feet on the marble behind them stopped Simmon’s next words. And then the sound got even faster.
“Lord Haversham!” little Emma Benton gushed, coming around the corner and holding a fluffy white cat in her arms. “I don’t suppose you have any lavender drops?”
So the secret to winning over Caroline’s youngest daughter was with hard candy? Marc made a mental note of that for the future. “I am fresh out, Miss Emma.” He smiled at the child. “Though I’m certain I’ll have some the next time we meet.” He would keep a stash of them from now on. Then he gestured to the white ball of fluff in her arms. “Who do you have there?”
“This is Lord Fluffington,” she said, lifting her cat out for him to take.
Damn it all. He didn’t want to hold the thing. He was just being polite. That was where politeness got one – holding cats one didn’t want to hold. “Hello, my lord,” Marc said as she handed him the ball of fluff, and he couldn’t believe he’d just ‘my lorded’ a cat for God’s sake.
Lord Fluffington began to purr and Marc scratched him behind his ears.
“A very handsome fellow, he is.”
She beamed up at him with that certain childlike sparkle in her eyes that made him miss Callista in that instant. It had been a few weeks since he’d seen his daughter last, and he w
as clearly due for another visit.
“Did you enjoy Astley’s last night?” he asked.
“Indeed.” She nodded eagerly. “I like it best when the riders stand up on top of the horses. I don’t think I could ever do that. But I like to imagine it.”
“I have no doubt you can do whatever you’d like,” he said and started to hand her cat back to her, but she didn’t seem to notice. “Though you might want to run trick riding past your mother before you attempt it.”
She giggled and his heart ached for his own daughter. “Fluff and I were about to have a tea party if you want to join us.”
A tea party with a cat? Not the reason Marc had darkened the doorway of Staveley House that afternoon. “I shall have to decline this time, Miss Emma. I’ve actually come to see your mother.”
“Oh!” Her green eyes twinkled once again. “I’ll take you to her.” Then she grabbed his hand and began to tug Marc down the corridor.
He glanced over his shoulder to find Simmons biting back a smile. The traitor was enjoying himself quite a lot at Marc’s expense.
A moment later, Emma pulled Marc over the threshold into Caroline’s white parlor.
“Here she is,” she sang, and then all of the laugher and chatter in the room came to an instant stop. “Oh! Aunt Juliet!” Emma cried, releasing Marc’s hand and dashing toward the settee where Juliet Beckford and Felicity Carraway sat together. “I didn’t know you were here!” She hugged her aunt.
But all other eyes were firmly on Marc, standing with a fluffy white cat in his arms in the doorway. He must look like a bloody idiot. Of course, his gaze landed on Caroline, and he was relieved when a ghost of a smile tipped her lips. It was gone a second later, but he was certain she was glad to see him. And he was always glad to see her.
“Lord Haversham,” Caroline said, pushing out of her seat, which made that jackass Peasemore push out of his as well. “What a surprise.”
