Miss Lowndes assumed that anyone who didn’t have his nose permanently wedged between the pages of a book was an idiot. A rake, she called him. A profligate. What did Little Miss Bluestocking know about profligate rakes? Typical. Those who had no fun in life were constantly criticizing those who did. Perhaps Miss Loudmouth might benefit from a bit of rakishness and profligacy from time to time. He had to admit to a reluctant—very reluctant—admiration for her quick wit and biting sarcasm. He appreciated intelligence as much as the next person. Too bad the sting of her barbed words was too often aimed in his direction. Regardless of his issues with the woman, she was Lucy’s friend. She had been loyal to Lucy when few others would speak to her, before she’d become all the rage as the Duchess of Claringdon. He would give Loudmouth that.
Now, when Lucy had a party, half the ton clamored for an invitation. What a difference a year made. But true to her character, Lucy had kept her dearest friends, Cassandra Monroe and Jane Lowndes, close to her and the three remained inseparable. Yes, Garrett could abide Miss Lowndes if he had to. She made Lucy happy, and that was what mattered.
As for the scheme the two were cooking up, Garrett would have to get to the bottom of it sooner rather than later. A scandal couldn’t end well. How could they believe otherwise? Those two women, always so certain of themselves. Damn it. He’d had enough experience with Lucy’s schemes to know that they often lacked preparation and ended poorly or at least caused a great deal of havoc before ending happily. The Mrs. Bunbury plot alone sounded as if it were quite enough trouble. What else could they possibly dream up in the way of a scandal? Garrett scrubbed his hand through his hair again. Best not to answer that question.
He turned from the window and walked to the bed where he slid onto the mattress and lay facing the wood-beamed ceiling. He rubbed his temples. Sleep had long been a jest to him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually slept through an entire night. He hadn’t made it through a night in the last ten years without waking in a cold sweat, hearing Harold Langford’s screams.
Garrett closed his eyes. He was tired, suddenly, exhausted. Isabella would be arriving tomorrow. She’d come and meet his friends. What would it be like to have his two worlds together? He’d spent the last ten years ensuring they remained far apart. His past in the army in Spain, his present as the heir presumptive to the Earl of Upbridge. They were entirely different circumstances populated by entirely different people. Well, except for Claringdon and Swifdon, that is. Both of them had been in the army in Spain with him. Good men.
Garrett had spent a great deal of time wishing he’d died in Spain. He probably should have. He’d had no business buying a commission and leaving for war. Not since his cousin Ralph was dead and the Upbridge title would pass to some unknown cousin or revert back to the Crown if Garrett died as well. But he’d done it, just the same. Done it and lived. Lived with his regrets.
He groaned. The prospect of the house party had been mildly amusing before. He was happy to see his good friends Swifdon and Cassandra marry. Marriage wasn’t something he’d given much thought to before but he didn’t begrudge others from making a happy match.
Speaking of marriage, Lucy had said she would turn her sights to finding him a suitable wife after she finished with Miss Lowndes. He rubbed his temples again. It made his head hurt to think about that. Cassandra was lovely and accomplished and would make a fine wife, but she wasn’t his sort. Not that he had a sort, but if he did, she would be more of someone who stood up for herself, argued a bit, was spirited …
He groaned. Damn it. He’d just described someone a bit too much like … Miss Lowndes. At least if Lucy was preoccupied with her Mrs. Bunbury scandal plot, she’d leave him and his marital prospects alone for a bit. Perhaps he ought to keep his nose out of it. It rarely ended well for him when he attempted to thwart Lucy’s plans. He certainly didn’t want to draw attention to himself and Isabella Langford. What if Lucy got it into her head that she should make a match between him and Isabella? It would be beyond awkward. Though discomfiture was no doubt in store for him one way or another, once Isabella arrived.
Garrett flung an arm over his forehead. The next week wouldn’t be easy. Not only would Isabella be there, he’d be busy watching what Lucy and Miss Lowndes were getting up to, and to add insult to injury, there was to be a bloody masquerade ball. What more could go wrong?
CHAPTER NINE
Mrs. Isabella Langford arrived the next morning at an ungodly hour. Jane had been roused from bed far too early given the fact that she’d been up nearly all night reading a novel. She’d been forced to come downstairs and greet the woman along with Cass, Lucy, and Cass’s mother.
“Aren’t you the least bit curious?” Lucy asked, as Jane stifled a yawn while they stood in the foyer, waiting for Mrs. Langford and for the servants to unload her trunks from the carriage.
“Not particularly,” Jane replied with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. If she was honest with herself, she would admit she did wonder why Upton’s voice had seemed a bit strained last night when Cass had mentioned Mrs. Langford. Jane also wondered why the woman had used Upton as an entrée to the house party. It seemed quite forward. But there were scores of socially ambitious people in London who would use any excuse to gain an invitation to an earl’s wedding. It wasn’t particularly surprising. Jane was more interested in reading the last of her good book than wondering why a widow was coming to Cass’s wedding under the guise of her friendship with Upton of all people. Upton’s acquaintances were none of Jane’s concern. But Cass had requested her presence this morning and Jane was committed to making Cass’s wedding week the best it could be. Lack of her own sleep notwithstanding.
“She’s the wife of a deceased army captain,” Cass whispered, staring out the door at Mrs. Langford’s entourage. “Do you find it odd that she has such a fine carriage and servants?”
“Cassandra, that’s hardly polite,” her mother interjected.
Lucy was on tiptoes, craning her neck to see everything. Jane scanned the scene. Indeed, Mrs. Langford had a footman and a lady’s maid with her and enough trunks to fill Jane’s bedchamber in London.
Lucy snorted. “She does know she’s only staying a week, doesn’t she?”
Cass elbowed Lucy.
When the lady herself emerged from the coach, Jane sucked in her breath. Mrs. Langford was ethereal. She was nearly as good-looking as Lucy, and that was saying quite a lot. The woman had a cloud of black hair and the palest white skin, with red lips that looked like a cherry set perfectly under her pin-tip nose. While she might have been a year or two older than Jane, she was not much more.
She was escorted into the foyer by Cass’s mother, Lady Moreland, and as soon as the widow saw the three of them standing there, Mrs. Langford’s beautiful face broke into a wide smile revealing perfect white teeth. She had pale green eyes, Jane noted once she’d come close enough. Yes, she looked like a princess. Well, not Princess Charlotte, but some sort of princess, a fairy-tale, breathtaking sort.
“Lady Cassandra!” Mrs. Langford said in a voice Jane found far too exuberant for such an early hour. People who favored the morning were so often too loud. “It’s so lovely to see you. You didn’t need to trouble yourself with coming to meet me.”
“It’s my pleasure, Mrs. Langford. I wanted to see you had a proper welcome. Do you know the Duchess of Claringdon and Miss Jane Lowndes?” Cass gestured to her friends.
Lucy nodded regally, something she’d been practicing ever since she became a duchess. “Mrs. Langford,” she intoned.
The widow curtsied formally. Once she straightened she said, “Your Grace. It’s so lovely to meet you. I am quite overwhelmed with gratitude that you would come and greet me.”
“Not at all,” Lucy responded, barely inclining her head. “I was anxious to meet the friend of my cousin Mr. Garrett Upton.”
Jane nearly took off her spectacles and rubbed her eyes. The look on Mrs. Langford’s face the moment Upton’s
name was mentioned was downright … coy? Shy? Flirtatious? Her cheeks turned a lovely shade of rose, and she averted her gaze. “It’s an honor to call Mr. Upton a friend,” she said, still not meeting Lucy’s eyes.
Jane snapped her brows together. An honor? To call Upton a friend? Upton? Were they speaking of the same man?
“I’m certain Garrett is looking forward to seeing you,” Cass replied.
There was that coy blush again. It seemed so misplaced on the cheeks of a woman who had to be at least thirty.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Mrs. Langford said, “but I brought my footman, Boris, with me. I couldn’t go anywhere without him. Why, he’s nearly as precious to me as my maid.”
The maid and footman stood several paces behind their mistress. Boris was tall and dark with slightly curly brown hair. He had wide-set dark eyes and a look on his face that was a bit too arrogant for a footman. The maid, however, had bowed her dark head and cast her eyes downward. She reeked with obsequiousness. Jane had never taken such a dislike to servants upon sight. Good heavens, she was up far too early if she was bothered by innocent servants.
“It’s perfectly fine,” Cass’s mother replied graciously. “We’ll be happy to find a place for your footman to sleep and of course your maid is always welcome.”
A bright smile flashed across Mrs. Langford’s face. “You are too kind.”
“I do hope you’ve brought something to wear for the masquerade tomorrow night,” Cass added.
Mrs. Langford’s ever-present smile turned nearly predatory. “Yes, indeed. I’m greatly looking forward to it.”
Cass’s mother went about ordering the butler to take Boris under his wing and show the maid and Mrs. Langford to their rooms. A team of footmen from the Moreland household materialized to unload Mrs. Langford’s trunks from the overburdened carriage.
“Poor horses,” Jane mumbled under her breath.
“What was that, dear?” Lucy asked.
“Nothing, nothing at all.”
Mrs. Langford swept toward the staircase, escorted by the Morelands’ servants. She turned to look over her shoulder at the three ladies still standing in the foyer. “I do hope we shall all become the best of friends this week. Any friend of Mr. Upton’s is a dear, dear friend of mine.”
Jane narrowed her eyes. Who exactly was this Isabella Langford?
CHAPTER TEN
Garrett spent the morning riding out to look at the Moreland lands with Swifdon, Claringdon, and Cass’s brother, Owen Monroe, the future Earl of Moreland.
Like the others, Swifdon was also a large man. A former army captain himself, he was blond with a quick smile and friendly gray eyes that matched his younger sister Daphne’s. Monroe was also tall and blond but with the same deep blue eyes as his sister and a much more rakish air.
They’d already discussed livestock, farming, estate managers, and the like when Swifdon turned toward his future brother-in-law. “Your estate here borders Upbridge Hall?”
“Yes,” Monroe replied. “That’s how Cass and Lucy have been such fast friends all these years. They grew up together.”
Garrett cleared his throat. “If Lucy and Cass became friends because of the proximity of their homes, how did Miss Lowndes end up in their little group? Her father only has a house in London from what I understand.” Now where had that come from? It was a question he’d never bothered to ask the ladies, but suddenly he was quite interested in knowing the answer.
“Ah, this is a story I know,” Claringdon replied.
“Really?” Swifdon said. “I don’t think Cassie’s ever mentioned it to me. I hadn’t thought much of it, honestly.”
“I’ve never known,” Monroe admitted. “I assume they met at a party somewhere.”
The men navigated their mounts along the line of trees that bordered a long meadow.
“Yes,” Claringdon said. “It was at a party. Lucy and Cass’s come-out ball. Miss Lowndes had already been out for a Season.”
Miss Lowndes was a year older than Lucy and Cass? Garrett hadn’t known that.
“They met at a come-out, nothing too special about that.” Monroe shrugged.
“Yes, but it was the way they met that is typical to Lucy. To all of them, really.”
“What happened?” Garrett mentally cursed himself for the note of curiosity in his voice.
“Cass, of course, was the belle of the ball,” Claringdon said.
Swifdon grinned at the mention of his bride. “Of course.”
“She had a queue of suitors lined up to dance with her. Her mother was beside herself with excitement,” Claringdon said.
Owen snorted. “Mother should have saved herself the trouble. If only we’d all known that Cass intended to reject every last one of them because she was pining away for you, Swifdon, waiting for you to return from the war.”
Swifdon’s grin widened. “I can’t help it if I was unforgettable.”
Garrett and Claringdon laughed out loud at that.
“Apparently, in addition to warding off the suitors in whom she had no interest, Cass was preoccupied with Lucy’s lack of success. As you said, Monroe, they were great friends and Cass has a kind heart. She couldn’t abide the fact that Lucy was wilting in the corner with the other wallflowers.”
“Ah, enter Miss Lowndes,” Garrett said with a smirk.
“Yes,” Claringdon replied. “Apparently, Lucy marched over to Jane and demanded to know why she was reading a book in the middle of a ball.”
Garrett snorted this time.
“‘Look around you,’ Jane replied, ‘see anything better to do? I assure you my dance card is entirely blank and this book is far more fascinating than watching all the gentlemen vie for Lady Cassandra Monroe’s attention,’” Claringdon continued.
“That sounds like Jane Lowndes,” Owen Monroe said with a grin, one that made Garrett feel a twinge of annoyance.
Claringdon kept talking. “‘Cassandra is a dear,’ Lucy said to Jane. ‘I’m certain she is,’ Jane said to Lucy, ‘and I am not. Which is why gentlemen are not lined up to dance with me. Now, if you intend to stand there, would you mind moving a bit to the right? You’ll block the view of my mother and she detests it when she finds me reading a book at a ball.’”
“Then what happened?” Swifdon asked, his gray eyes lit with amusement.
“Then Lucy burst into laughter, moved to the right to accommodate Jane, and asked her if she had another book in her reticule that Lucy could borrow. They’ve been inseparable ever since.”
All of the men laughed and Garrett shook his head. That story did sound exactly like Jane and Lucy. A wonder he’d never heard it before. He’d come to Lucy’s come-out later in the evening and danced with her. Lucy had told him he was the only gentleman to do so. Garrett had thought she’d been exaggerating. Apparently, she had not. For all her beauty, Lucy had already garnered a reputation for ripping men to shreds with her tongue. The men of the ton had been duly scared off, until Claringdon arrived and gave as good as he got from her.
“You know, Jane Lowndes is considered a bluestocking by some, but I think she’s actually quite an attractive young lady,” Monroe said.
Garrett’s eyes narrowed on the future earl.
“That’s rich coming from you, Monroe. I don’t think there’s a lady alive whom you couldn’t charm or find attractive in some way,” Swifdon replied.
Monroe had a rakish grin on his face, a bit too leering for Garrett’s taste. “I’m merely saying she’s easy on the eyes. I’d like to see her with those spectacles off and a bit of—”
“My home isn’t far from here.” Garrett cleared his throat loudly. “Shall we ride over and I’ll show you the property?”
Monroe shrugged, but the wolfish grin remained on his face.
“In addition to your home nearby, one day you will call Upbridge Hall home, Upton,” Claringdon pointed out.
“Yes.” Garrett studied his leather gloves where they gripped the reins. It was inevitable. He would
be the Earl of Upbridge one day, but damn how he wished his cousin Ralph had lived. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be the earl. He didn’t want to be the earl at his cousin’s expense, not to mention the fact that his uncle had detested him his entire life as a result.
“Lucy’s brother died of fever when he was nine,” Monroe added for Swifdon’s sake.
“Yes, Cassie told me,” Swifdon replied. “Damn shame. But I know you’ll do the Upbridge name proud, Upton.”
Garrett’s grip tightened. “My thanks, Swifdon. I hope I’ll be able to help you in Parliament one day. But as my uncle is in good health as far as I know, it won’t be in time to assist with the veterans’ bill.”
“Ah, yes. Derek mentioned that to me earlier this morning. I quite like the idea of expanding it.”
Monroe led the way toward Upton’s property. The other men followed in line.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Garrett replied.
“Does your interest in the bill have anything to do with Isabella Langford?” Claringdon asked.
Damn that Claringdon, nothing escaped his notice.
“Her husband died. I was there…” Garrett murmured.
“I remember,” Swifdon said quietly.
Garrett quickly shook his head. “Yes, well, that reminds me. Cassandra told me last night that Isabella Langford is coming to the house party.”
“Is she?” Claringdon’s voice held a note of surprise.
“Apparently she informed Cassandra that she and I are acquainted,” Garrett continued.
“Getting some unwanted attention from the widow?” Monroe said with another leering grin that Garrett didn’t appreciate.
“Yes, actually,” Garrett replied. “Her attention is unwanted.”
“If I remember her correctly, Mrs. Langford is a great beauty. Just say the word,” Monroe replied, still leering. I’m only too happy to distract her for you if you like.”
The Unlikely Lady Page 5
