Scandal of the Season

by Liana Lefey

  The trip had taken a heavy toll on her joints, Sorin knew. He was thankful they’d arrived before this cold snap had fully settled in. He’d stop by the apothecary along the way and bring back something to ease her discomfort. “Rowena will want to throttle me if she finds out I’m interfering, you know.”

  “If it prevents a disaster, I’m sure she won’t mind. If you’re going, you had better do so now before it grows too late in the day,” she said, waving him off and closing her eyes. “Wait,” she said suddenly, opening them again.

  “Yes?”

  “On your way out, have Jacobson bring up some of that cognac I know he’s hidden away, will you? Quietly.”

  He fought back a grin. “Of course, Mother.” The liquor was probably far better than any apothecary’s tonic. As a rule, ladies weren’t supposed to drink hard liquor, but when her joints pained her his mother was apt to bend the rules a bit. At least she would sleep peacefully and pain-free tonight. With a short bow, he departed.

  “Take me to Bow Street, George,” he told the driver, a man who’d been in his family’s employ since early boyhood. A man he could trust to keep quiet. Boarding the carriage, he sat back and rapped twice on the roof, signaling his readiness to depart. He could have sent for John to come and see him tomorrow, but he didn’t want the household servants getting wind of such a visit. There were no secrets in London—or at least they were damnably hard to keep. Better that everyone think him off to Covent Garden for a bit of fun.

  The streets weren’t very congested. A good portion of London’s population preferred to remain indoors when it rained like this, but even so it took him a bit longer to get to Bow Street than he’d have liked. It didn’t matter. John’s door was always open, whether at the office or at home.

  An hour later, the two of them were talking over a pint at the Dove and Duck. John had agreed to put eyes on Yarborough, and they’d moved on to more pleasant matters.

  “So you’re on the market this year,” said John, lifting his glass. “Good. About time you put on the shackles. My sister would want you to be happy.”

  Sorin knew the time for mourning Jane was long past, but the mention of her name still elicited a pang of sadness. Her death had extinguished the light in his world for so long—but not anymore. His spirits rose at the thought of Eleanor. “I’ve not been completely unhappy. I’ve travelled the world and come home a far richer man than when I left, and I have a great many friends.”

  “It’s not the same as having a family.” John’s knowing eyes watched him over the rim of his glass as he took another swallow. “Believe me, I know. I waited far too long to do it, myself. Should have done it ten years ago rather than waiting until this old pate started showing through,” he said with a laugh as he reached up to pat his thinning hair. “Still, my Winnie never seems to mind, bless her. She says I’m still of some use.”

  “Well, I’m determined to marry before I’m too old to be of use to anyone,” Sorin said, taking a long drink.

  “I’m glad,” said John, his solemnity returning. “You know, I thought I’d have a harder time adjusting to married life after all I’ve seen. But the truth is that it’s good to be able to come home and leave all of it behind. When I’m with Winifred and the children, the darkness just can’t take hold of me.”

  His candor took Sorin completely by surprise. He’d been friends with Jane’s brother since the day they’d met, and in all that time John had never once mentioned experiencing any discomfort related to his work. Sorin had never understood how the man managed to sleep after witnessing firsthand the nightly tragedies that played out on London’s streets. How could any man have any peace after being exposed to such constant danger, corruption, and death? “Do you not worry for their safety? Does that concern not divide you at all?” He’d wanted to ask it for years.

  John nodded slowly, considering. “At first I thought marrying would weaken me, make me more vulnerable. I fully expected to have to resign. But the truth is that with Winnie I’m stronger. Knowing I’ve got her and the children waiting for me at home gives me something to look forward to. Something to think about that’s not so awful as what I have to sometimes deal with. As far as their safety is concerned, I’m well-equipped to ensure nothing happens to them. Benefit of being the Director,” he said, baring his teeth in a knowing grin. “They’re better looked after than the bloody king.”

  His words again awakened in Sorin the fierce need to protect Eleanor. For a moment, he considered asking his old friend to set a Runner to watch over her, but that would probably be going a step too far at this juncture. First, he needed to know if there was even a legitimate threat. “Marriage has changed you. In a good way, of course,” he added quickly.

  “I think you’ll find marriage will change you, too. In a good way, of course,” John shot back with a wink. “Provided you find the right woman, that is.” He sat back, looking smug. “Which, unless I’m mistaken—and I’m usually not—you’ve already done. A man doesn’t have a fellow watched for no reason. Who is she?”

  Bloody hell. He should have known better than to think he’d be able to get away with it. “Lady Eleanor Cramley, daughter of the late Duke of Ashford and cousin to the current duke.”

  John’s brows knit. “The girl you mentioned in your letters?”

  “The same,” he admitted, feeling his neck growing hot.

  A slow smile spread across his friend’s face. “I was wondering when you’d realize it. Don’t look so shocked,” he said softly. “Your letters have been full of her for ages. I kept expecting to hear that you’d proposed to her, but you never did, and I could not understand why when you’re so obviously well suited.”

  “She was—is—a good deal younger than me, John,” Sorin explained uncomfortably. “I was away at Eton when she was born, but I’ve known her since she was in pinafores. I practically helped Charles and Rowena raise her. I’m sure you can see the complications, both with her and with her family.”

  The other man brushed the excuses aside with a wave. “None of that will matter if you truly love each other. She’s grown now, after all.” He peered at Sorin, his eyes glinting in the firelight. “She doesn’t know how you feel, does she?”

  “No.” At least he didn’t believe so. “And before you say anything, I cannot just tell her without risking a great deal of upheaval. I must be sure of her feelings first.”

  John looked thoughtful for a long moment. “You know, I think this Eleanor of yours was the saving of you. After Jane’s death, you needed something to concentrate on other than your grief, someone to look after. Your Eleanor filled the hole Jane left behind.”

  Sorin’s heart clenched. “I suppose she did, in a way. You know, after a few years I tried looking for someone else, someone like your sister. But Jane was one of a kind.” He laughed to himself. “As is Eleanor. To find myself attracted to her was confounding, to say the least. She and Jane are so different in temperament that I never would have thought…”

  John’s smile was gentle and a little sad. “Maybe that’s no bad thing. I would not dwell too hard upon it. Just accept the fact that she’s what you need now, and don’t let her slip away.”

  He didn’t intend to. “I’m planning to remain close to her throughout the Season. I’ll know which direction to take soon enough.” He hoped.

  “There is only one direction that will lead to happiness for you. Don’t be foolish enough to take any other. Tell her.”

  “I will, when the time is right.” If indeed that time ever came.

  “Love makes fools of us all.” John shook his head and took another swallow.

  He could only laugh in rueful agreement as the barkeep refilled their glasses.

  “You won’t ask me, proud ass that you are,” said John, taking out his pipe and knocking out the dottle. “But I’ll do it anyway because it’ll give you peace. I’ll have a man posted to watch her house. If your fellow so much as twitches his nose at her, we’ll know about it. And if he�
�s into anything that a gentleman ought not to be into, I’ll have it.”

  “John, I don’t know how to thank you,” Sorin replied, both grateful and relieved.

  The other man paused in the process of refilling his pipe and winked at him. “You’ll be thanking me aplenty when the bill hits your purse.”

  “I meant personally. You’re a good man, John. And a damned good friend.”

  “That’s the only kind to have,” said his friend with aplomb. He laughed. “I’d never have thought love would bring you to my door again. But I’m glad it did. Here’s to love and to the saving of us poor fools who fall into it.”

  As they again lifted their glasses, Sorin thought to himself that John was right, more right than he knew. From the moment he’d met her, Eleanor had been, and continued to be, the saving of him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Eleanor luxuriated in layers of muslin so fine they were nearly transparent, the outermost sprigged with delicately embroidered violets. If one couldn’t wear silk, then this was surely the next best thing. An exquisite gold chain bearing a single pearl set in a circle of amethysts graced her throat, and tiny matching earrings dangled from her lobes. Her hair was braided in a high coronet with a few artful curls left loose here and there. It was a shame to cover such a masterpiece, but she couldn’t run around London with a bare head. Carefully, so as not to disturb the arrangement too much, she put on her bonnet and arranged the bow charmingly off-center beneath her left jaw.

  Tucking a small posy of freshly picked violets into the pale green sash tied beneath her breasts, she spun before the mirror, watching the diaphanous material bell out ever so slightly. When the weather warmed a bit, she’d dispense with most of the underlying petticoats. The walking dress would have a much slimmer silhouette with only a single opaque underskirt, and it would also be far more daring. Too bad this was an afternoon outing rather than an evening affair, for then she’d be able to leave off the fichu that covered her to the collarbone.

  Still, the gown was quite flattering and therefore absolutely acceptable for her outing with Sorin. And Rowena, she reminded herself, trying not to resent the fact. It was only proper, after all. No matter how close Sorin was to her family, he was still unmarried.

  But not for long…

  Her stomach trembled at the thought of what she was about to attempt. Nerves. Never had she thought to suffer from them. But she seemed to be all nerves when it came to anything having to do with Sorin these days.

  Relax. She made herself take a deep breath. He has stated his intent to select a wife. Why not me? We already know each other, after all.

  But her unrelenting conscience refused to leave it alone. What if true love was waiting for him out there? What if through her machinations she prevented his finding it? She would rob him of the greatest happiness anyone could hope for on this earth.

  Then again, there were entire books of prose expounding on the cruel nature of romantic love. Many considered it a curse. Better to marry a friend who will never subject him to such ill treatment.

  Satisfied, she patted down a stray hair and smoothed it into place. But as she stared back at her reflection in the mirror, the pessimistic little voice again intruded: But what if I win his heart and hand only to make him unhappy in the end, despite all efforts?

  The knock on her door made her jump.

  “The Spencer, Fran! Quickly,” she urged her maid, pointing. “And the shawl. The shawl—over there!” The weather had improved significantly, but it was still nippy in the shade. Fran rushed to fetch the short jacket and hold it out for her. Eleanor’s fingers shook too badly to negotiate the frogs. Finally, she gave up and let her maid do them up for her. Throwing the thick cashmere over her arm and grabbing her gloves and reticule, Eleanor darted from the room. Hearing voices below as she neared the stairs, she slowed to a more dignified pace.

  Sorin stood at the bottom, his smile gratifyingly appreciative as she descended. “How lovely you look today, Ellie.”

  Warmth suffused her from the inside out, and her lips began to tingle. The sensation spread, until her whole body felt alive and awake as never before. How peculiar? Was this heightened self-awareness due to the fact that she now regarded him as the potential companion of her life? Had she considered another, would it have been the same?

  “Lady Ashford has already gone out to the carriage,” he continued. “Shall we?”

  Taking his arm, she walked out with her head high and her spirits light. Happiness swelled within her. Nothing could possibly ruin this day! Had there been a torrential downpour awaiting her outside, still she would have been elated. “I’m so pleased that you asked me to help you,” she told him quietly as they approached the carriage. “Truly, it was an unexpected honor. I only hope my selection is to your mother’s taste.”

  “I would not worry overmuch,” he replied, giving her hand a pat. “Having spent five days with her in close quarters, you’ll likely know what pleases her better than I. After all, ladies will often reveal to others of their own sex things they won’t discuss with menfolk. Whatever you select will be perfect, I’m sure. In any case, I trust your judgment.”

  The compliment and his lingering gaze sent a pleasant shiver of delight up her spine. He entered the carriage before her and then extended a hand to help her up before taking a seat opposite Rowena, who was already present.

  “How pretty you look,” said Rowena with a smile as she sat down beside her. “Did I not tell you this new style would be fetching?” She turned to Sorin. “She hardly allowed me to have her fitted for it. I’m afraid our Eleanor is slow to approve of change.”

  The butterflies in Eleanor’s stomach began to flutter anew. “I won’t disagree with you, but I will own that once I find something that pleases me, I keep it close to my heart and greatly dislike parting with it.” Plucking up her courage, she looked directly at Sorin. “Having said so, I’ll also admit that change can be good—when it is the right sort of change.”

  His eyes widened a fraction just before he quickly looked away out of the window, and panic tightened her midsection. Had she gone too far? Oh, sweet Lord! “Rather than making me sound so set in my ways,” she hurried on, “let us instead say that I am not overly fond of changes that come with undue haste.” Damn, but that came out wrong! “Prudence never did a lady any harm,” she added lamely.

  “How…interesting,” said Rowena, her brows rising. “I think you are finally growing up, Eleanor.”

  Eleanor cringed. Rowena hadn’t meant to sound so patronizing, she was sure. She flinched a little as the older woman laid a gentle hand on her arm.

  “You’ve matured into a fine young woman,” said Rowena. “Your mother would be quite proud of you, as am I.”

  A sudden sting of tears threatened to ruin Eleanor’s composure. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “Indeed she would,” added Sorin softly, looking at her with an expression of tender approval.

  But was it the approval of a mentor who’d once scolded her to act like a lady or the approval of a man who thought her worthy of bearing his name and children? The world around her faded as she stared into his eyes, becoming lost in the slow, rhythmic thunder of her own heartbeat.

  The air in the carriage fairly crackled.

  “I think I shall buy a new timepiece for Charles while we are at Rundell & Bridge’s,” said Rowena, breaking the spell. “I noticed his has become a bit worn.”

  The world returned with a crash and Eleanor looked away, mortified. Good heavens, what must he think of her, staring at him like any bold miss on the street? “I think my cousin would like that very much,” she said quickly, focusing on Rowena. “But nothing too fancy, I should think. He always complains that his father’s watch is too ornate.”

  “True enough. Most men do seem to prefer things that are direct and uncomplicated,” answered Rowena.

  Knots began to form in Eleanor’s gut. Oh, no. No, no, no… Had Rowena seen her staring at Sorin? Was her
comment intended as advice on how to behave with him? She searched Rowena’s face for clues, but found none. I’m probably panicking over nothing. Still… “I might also have a look while we are there,” she said brightly, hoping to steer the discussion into safer waters. “I’ve nothing to wear with the new ball gown that was delivered this morning.”

  “The rose one?” asked Rowena. “I think that a fine idea.” She turned her attention to Sorin. “Rundell & Bridges is rather out of the way, and it may be some time before we have occasion to visit again. Perhaps you’ll do me the favor of helping Eleanor make her selection while I peruse the watches? After all, as a gentleman, you’ll be able to offer her a different perspective regarding what is considered attractive on a lady.”

  Eleanor’s mouth went completely dry. Her gaze snapped back to Sorin as, with bated breath, she awaited his response. Rowena surely hadn’t meant anything by her request, but…

  “I’m delighted to be of assistance, of course,” he replied with a cordial nod. The smile he turned on her was utterly benign. Relief flooded her, making her almost giddy. He suspects nothing. Breathe.

  The rest of the journey was passed in light—and thankfully innocuous—conversation.

  When they at last arrived at the esteemed jeweler’s, Eleanor couldn’t help feeling a little intimidated. The foyer was sumptuous, the atmosphere as hushed and reverent as a cathedral. A liveried manservant minced forth to take their names and to bid them make themselves comfortable while he made the proprietor aware of their arrival. Another servant, this one only slightly less haughty, came to take their jackets and cloaks.

  As she perched on one of the plush chairs, Eleanor thought to herself that only the king’s palace had more marble and gilt. She’d only just begun to wonder how long they would be made to wait when the first man returned.

  “Master Rundell will be pleased see you now,” he murmured, bowing as he held the door open for them.

  The room within had been painted white, and the furniture it contained was white, too. Unlike other jewelry shops she’d visited, this one had no jewelry on display. No glass boxes containing marble busts wearing necklaces. No cases of jewel-encrusted rings and earrings. No rows of glittering bracelets. There was not a single jewel to be seen.