by Amanda Quick
Reluctantly, she released the doorknob. She stayed where she was, however, within inches of escape. A successful paid companion learned to be prepared for the unexpected.
“Very well, sir. I am listening.”
St. Merryn moved to the front of Mrs. Goodhew’s desk, leaned back against it and stretched his arms out to the sides. The position pulled his excellently cut coat snugly across his strong shoulders. It also allowed her to notice that he had a broad chest, flat stomach and lean hips. There was nothing thin or soft or weak about him.
“I have come to London for a few weeks this Season for the sole purpose of conducting some rather complicated business affairs. I will not bore you with the details, but the long and short of it is that I intend to form a consortium of investors. The project requires secrecy and privacy. If you know anything about Society, you will be aware that both conditions are extremely difficult to achieve. The Polite World lives on a steady diet of gossip and rumor.”
She allowed herself to relax slightly. Perhaps he was not mad after all.
“Pray continue, sir.”
“Unfortunately, given my current situation and a certain incident that occurred a year ago, I believe it will be somewhat difficult for me to go about my business without a great deal of annoying interference unless I am seen to be quite clearly off the marriage mart.”
She cleared her throat. “Your situation?” she asked as delicately as possible.
He raised one brow. “I have a title, several rather nice estates and a substantial fortune. And I am not married.”
“How nice for you,” she murmured.
He looked briefly amused. “Sarcasm is not generally considered a desirable quality in a paid companion, but given the fact that I am just as desperate as you are, I am prepared to overlook it on this occasion.”
She blushed. “My apologies, sir. It has been a somewhat trying day.”
“I assure you, mine was equally unpleasant.”
It was time to get back to the subject at hand, she decided. “Yes, well I do see that your situation makes you an extremely interesting commodity in certain social circles.”
“And no doubt quite boring in other circles.”
She had to work to hold back a smile. His wry, self-deprecating humor caught her by surprise.
St. Merryn did not appear to notice her startled amusement. He drummed his fingertips in a single staccato pattern on the desk. “But that is neither here nor there. As I was saying, my situation is further complicated by the fact that last Season, I was engaged for a time to a young lady who eventually eloped with another man.”
That information took her aback more than somewhat. “Never say so.”
He gave her an impatient look. “There are any number of people who would be happy to tell you that the young lady in question had a narrow escape.”
“Hmm.”
“What the devil does that mean?”
“Nothing really. It just struck me that perhaps you are the one who had the narrow escape, sir. I had a similar escape myself, six months ago.”
Cold curiosity gleamed in his eyes. “Indeed? And would that explain why you find yourself applying for a post as a paid companion today?”
“In part.” She swept out a hand. “But given what I now know about my former fiancé, I can tell you in all truth that I would rather be looking for a new post this afternoon than married to a liar and a deceiver.”
“I see.”
“But enough of my personal life, sir. The thing is, I do, indeed, understand your dilemma. When word reaches Polite Circles that you are in town, it will be assumed that you have come back to try your luck again on the marriage mart. You will be viewed as so much fresh, raw meat by the matchmaking lionesses of the ton.”
“I could not have put it more succinctly myself. And that, Miss Lodge, is why I need a lady who can pose convincingly as my fiancée. It is really very simple.”
“It is?” she asked warily.
“Certainly. As I said, although I am here to conduct some extremely private business, Society will assume I have come back to shop for another bride. I do not want to find myself tripping over every young chit who has been brought to town to find a husband this Season. If I am perceived to be securely engaged to be married, the huntresses of Society will be forced to focus their attentions on other game.”
She sincerely doubted that St. Merryn’s scheme would prove to be the least bit simple. But who was she to argue with him?
“It sounds a very cunning plan, my lord,” she said politely. “I wish you the very best of luck with it.”
“I can see that you do not think for a moment that it will be successful.”
She sighed. “Far be it from me to remind you that many a man in your situation has underestimated the cleverness and determination of a mother who is intent on securing a good catch for her daughter.”
“I assure you, madam, that I have the greatest respect for the female of the species. Hence my plan to parade a fraudulent fiancée in front of Society for the next few weeks. Now then, will you accept the post that I am offering?”
“Sir, do not mistake me, I am not at all opposed to accepting the position. Indeed, I believe that I would quite enjoy it.”
That comment clearly intrigued him. “Why do you say that?”
“My grandmother was a very fine actress who gave up the stage to marry my grandfather,” she explained. “I have been told that I resemble her to a striking degree. I have often wondered if I got a measure of her talent, as well as her looks. Acting the role of your fiancée would no doubt prove interesting, even challenging.”
“I see. Well, then—”
She held up a hand. “But we must be realistic, sir. The truth is, as much as I would like to tread the boards, as it were, and as desperately as I want those excellent wages you offered, the fact is that it would be extremely difficult for me to masquerade as your intended bride.”
His jaw tightened with impatience. “Why is that?”
Where to begin? she wondered.
She moved a hand down her skirts to indicate her dull, gray gown. “For starters, I lack a proper wardrobe.”
He gave her a long, considering look that took her in from head to toe. She felt like a prize mare up for auction at Tattersall’s.
“Do not concern yourself with the problem of your wardrobe,” St. Merryn said. “I never expected that a woman who was applying for a position as a paid companion would possess the sort of gowns needed for this charade.”
“Yes, well, in addition to the clothes, there is the matter of my age.” This was proving to be an extremely embarrassing interview, she thought. Most of the other potential employers had considered her a bit young for the positions they were offering. However, in this instance, she was definitely too old.
“What is wrong with your age?” He frowned. “I had assumed that you are somewhere in your late twenties. I trust you are not about to tell me that you are considerably younger than you appear? I am most definitely not in the market for a green chit fresh out of the schoolroom.”
She set her back teeth and reminded herself that this morning when she had dressed for her interviews, she had deliberately made herself up in what she hoped was the very image of a typical paid companion. Nevertheless, she was somewhat irritated to learn that he had erred on the high side when he had calculated her age.
“I am six and twenty,” she said, striving to keep her words entirely neutral.
He nodded once, evidently satisfied. “Excellent. Old enough to have acquired some common sense and knowledge of the world. You’ll do.”
“Thank you,” she retorted caustically. “But we both know that gentlemen of your rank and fortune are expected to marry very young, extremely sheltered ladies straight out of the schoolroom.”
“Hell’s teeth, madam, we are discussing a paid post, not a genuine betrothal.” He scowled. “You know perfectly well that it would be impossible for me to employ a seventeen-year-o
ld girl for this position. Not only would she be highly unlikely to possess the skills and self-confidence required to carry it off, she would no doubt expect me to go through with the damn wedding at the end.”
For some reason that remark sent a chill through her. She did not understand why, however. Logic told her that of course the Earl of St. Merryn would not even consider marriage to the woman who played the role of his fiancée for a few weeks. Why, such a woman would be no better than an actress. Wealthy, powerful gentlemen of the ton had affairs with actresses; they certainly did not marry them.
“Speaking of which,” Elenora made herself say briskly, “just how do you intend to end this fictitious engagement when you have concluded your business here in town?”
“There will be no problem with terminating it,” he said. He shrugged. “You will simply disappear from Society. It will be put about that you cried off and returned to your family’s estates somewhere in the far North.”
You will simply disappear.
Alarm slithered across her nerves. That sounded decidedly ominous. On the other hand, he was right. Vanishing from exclusive circles would not be so very difficult. The rich and the powerful lived in a very small, self-contained world, after all. They rarely strayed outside the borders of that glittering sphere, nor did they notice those who existed beyond it.
“Yes, I suppose that will work,” she said, thinking it through carefully. “Few, if any, of my future employers are likely to move in the same exalted circles of Society that you and your acquaintances inhabit. Even if they do go into the Polite World and even if I were to come into contact with some of their elevated friends, I doubt that anyone would take any notice. Once I revert to my role as a paid companion, no one will pay any attention to me.”
“People see what they expect to see,” he agreed.
A thought struck her. “Perhaps I should use another name while I play this role, to help ensure that no one recognizes me while I am in the part.”
He chuckled. “I can see that the notion of taking a stage name appeals to you, but I do not think it necessary, and it will only complicate matters in the event that someone from your own past does happen to recognize you.”
“Oh, yes, I see what you mean.” She was somewhat disappointed, but she had to admit that he was correct. “It is unlikely, but if I should meet up with an acquaintance here in London, it would be difficult to explain my new name.”
“Truthfully, I am not at all disturbed by the notion of you encountering someone you know while you play your part. There is no reason why such an event would affect our script. As long as I claim you as my fiancée, you will be accepted as such. I am considered something of an eccentric, so no one will be unduly shocked that I wish to marry a lady with no social connections.”
“I see.”
His smile was cold. “Who will dare to contradict me?”
“Yes, of course,” she said, a little awed by his unshakable arrogance. But his point was well taken. Who, indeed, would dare to question his claim? And as for the future, well, she would worry about that when it was necessary to do so. She could hardly afford to pass up this extremely profitable arrangement because of some vague fear of being recognized as the earl’s cast-off fiancée six months from now.
“Indeed.” She nodded once, satisfied. “Very well, I think it is safe to assume that no one looking at a companion will see the Earl of St. Merryn’s former fiancée, so I should have no difficulty obtaining future employment.” She hesitated. “But where will I live while I am in your employ? I do not have any lodgings of my own. It is quite expensive here in town, you know.”
“You will stay in my house, of course. We will tell people that you are visiting from the country to shop and enjoy the pleasures of the Season.”
“You expect me to live under your roof, sir?” She raised her brows. “That would invite the sort of gossip that I’m sure you would not want.”
“There is no need to be alarmed on account of your reputation, Miss Lodge. I promise you that you will be properly chaperoned. The tale that I gave Mrs. Goodhew and Mrs. Willis concerning my widowed female relative staying with me for a few weeks was quite true.”
“I see. Well, then, my lord, your scheme just might work.”
“Miss Lodge, for your information, my schemes always work. That is because I am very good at making plans and executing them.”
He said that without any trace of arrogance, she realized. It was a simple statement of fact as far as he was concerned.
“Nevertheless, this particular scheme seems somewhat complicated,” she murmured.
“Trust me, Miss Lodge. It will work. And at the end of it, I will pay you not only triple your fees, but a bonus.”
She went very still, hardly daring to breathe. “Do you mean that, sir?”
“I need you, Miss Lodge. Something tells me you are perfect for the part I want you to play, and I am quite willing to pay you handsomely for your talents.”
She cleared her throat. “As it happens, I have been saving every penny I can afford to put aside in order to invest in a certain business venture.”
“Indeed? What sort of venture would that be?”
She pondered briefly and then decided that there was no reason not to tell him the truth. “I hope you will not be too terribly shocked, sir, but my goal is to go into trade.”
“You are going to become a shopkeeper?” he asked in an astonishingly neutral manner.
Braced for strong disapproval, she felt almost light-headed with relief when he did not condemn her scheme out of hand. In the view of well-bred people, going into trade was a dreadful move to be avoided at all costs. In the eyes of Society it was preferable by far to scrape by in genteel poverty rather than become the proprietor of a business.
“I realize that my plans must strike you as beyond the pale,” she said. “But as soon as I have obtained enough money, I intend to open a bookshop and a circulating library.”
“You do not shock me, Miss Lodge. As it happens, I have made my fortune through various investments. I have some skill when it comes to business.”
“Indeed, sir.” She gave him another polite smile.
He was being very gracious, she thought. But they both knew that the gulf between a gentleman’s business investments and the notion of going into trade was vast and deep in the eyes of Society. It was all very well for a person of quality to purchase shares in a shipping venture or a housing construction project. It was another matter altogether for a well-bred individual to become the proprietor of a shop.
Nevertheless, the important thing was that St. Merryn did not seem the least bit put off by her plans. Then again, she thought, he had made it clear that he was not in a position to be choosy.
He inclined his head in somber acknowledgment of her intentions. “Very well, then, do we have a bargain, Miss Lodge?”
The generosity of his terms completely dazzled her, as he had no doubt intended. She had one remaining qualm about the post she was accepting, but she crushed it down quite ruthlessly. This was the first turn of good fortune that had come her way since that dreadful day when her stepfather’s creditors had arrived on her doorstep. She would not risk losing a golden opportunity simply because of a petty uncertainty.
Scarcely able to contain her delight, she smiled again.
“We do indeed, my lord.”
St. Merryn stared at her mouth for several seconds, as though riveted. Then he gave his head a slight shake and frowned slightly. She got the impression that for some reason he was annoyed, not with her but with himself.
“If we are to achieve our objective of projecting an air of intimacy about our association,” he said dryly, “I think you must learn to call me Arthur.”
That would not be easy, she thought. There was a forbidding quality about him that would make such easy familiarity difficult.
It was not until she was outside in the street, hurrying back to Mrs. Egan’s townhouse to give her the good news,
that the qualm she had squelched earlier rose up once more to plague her.
It was not the earl’s formidable temperament or his bizarre plan to parade her in front of Society as his fiancée that worried her, she thought. She could deal with those things.
What made her uneasy about this too-good-to-be-true post was the fact that she was almost positive that St. Merryn had not told her the whole truth.
He was keeping secrets, she thought. Her intuition warned her that St. Merryn’s scheme involved something far more dangerous than a plan to put together an investment consortium.
But his private affairs were none of her concern, she concluded with rising excitement. The only thing that mattered to her was that if she successfully carried off the role St. Merryn had assigned to her, she would be well on her way to realizing her dream by the time he brought his little drama to a close.
4
It is just barely possible that my streak of extremely bad luck is about to come to an end.” Elenora sank gratefully into the depths of the wingback chair and smiled at the two women perched on the sofa across from her.
She had first met Lucinda Colyer and Charlotte Atwater six months before, in the offices of Goodhew & Willis. The three of them had arrived on the same day, seeking employment as companions. After a particularly trying afternoon of interviews, Elenora had suggested that they all go to the tea shop just around the corner and commiserate.
As it happened the three of them were quite different in temperament, but that fact paled in comparison to the things that they did have in common: They were all in their mid-twenties, well past the age when a good marriage was still a viable option. They were all from respectable backgrounds; well-bred and well-educated. And due to a variety of unfortunate circumstances, all three found themselves alone in the world and without resources.
In short, they shared the common bonds that drove women such as themselves into the paid companion profession.
