An Earl's Redemption: Regency Romance (Brides of London)

by Joyce Alec

  Lady Starling let out a harsh laugh. “I doubt that such a thing would make any difference,” she replied sadly. “It may even quicken his demand for more funds from myself, given that he is not a tolerant gentleman.”

  Joseph grimaced. “I would not make things worse for you,” he admitted determinedly. “But we must find a way to stop Lord Paulson from continuing on in this way. Not just for your sake, of course. If only I could think of something that might—”

  Lady Starling gasped audibly, her eyes widening. “I have it!”

  Blinking in surprise, Joseph waited for her to continue, finding himself a tad irritated that, apparently, Lady Starling had come up with a solution without his assistance.

  “Lord Paulson himself must have some sort of secret, surely,” Lady Starling said, her words firing out of her mouth with such haste that Joseph had to fix every iota of his attention upon her. “Therefore, you must discover it and use the very same threat that he has used on others to threaten Lord Paulson himself!” She gazed at him triumphantly, sitting back against the squabs and looking at him as though waiting for his immediate approval.

  Joseph, however, felt no instinct to clap and cheer with the delight and expectation that he could do as Lady Starling suggested. Instead, he felt almost nauseous at the thought of trying to dig into another gentleman’s past in order to find even a scrap of indiscretion that he might use against him. He already had so much else to contend with, what with restoring his own reputation and somehow improving his acquaintance with Miss Whitaker, on top of which he had also hoped to find a potential bride for himself this Season. How was he to ensure that he did all of those things as well as trying to spy on Lord Paulson?

  “Could we not instead try to find those who are also struggling against Lord Paulson’s cruelty and ask them to join us in our quest to prevent him from doing so any longer?” he asked, thinking quickly. “Perhaps if there are a few of us combined together, then we might be able to prevent Lord Paulson from continuing.”

  The excitement that had been in Lady Starling’s eyes began to fade almost immediately as she slumped back into her seat. “I do not think that anyone would be willing to speak to me about such matters, Lord Ancrum,” she told him dully. “I have already suggested such a thing to one or two of my acquaintances who I know for certain are struggling against him, but they have refused for fear that what he knows will be spread throughout all of London.”

  Joseph closed his eyes, feeling himself being pushed in a direction he did not want to take. “If there is any other suggestion you might have, Lady Starling, then I shall be glad to consider it,” he said softly. “Otherwise it may appear that the only option open to us is the one you have suggested.”

  Lady Starling pressed her handkerchief to her eyes and held it there, making Joseph grow more and more uncomfortable as silence grew between them. He did not want to go prying into Lord Paulson’s affairs, especially given what it might do to his reputation, should he be discovered. But he had promised to come to Lady Starling’s aid, he recalled, and he could not merely stand by and do nothing.

  “Of course, now that I have reflected upon it, I can see that it is the best solution offered to us both,” he finished heavily as Lady Starling finally lifted her head. “You are quite right, Lady Starling. It is the only idea that has any merit, I must admit.”

  Lady Starling gave him a watery smile, although Joseph wondered whether the gleam in her eye was, in fact, a sense of satisfaction with her victory.

  “I have the most wonderful idea,” Lady Starling said, as the carriage turned into Hyde Park. “I have heard that Lord Paulson is to throw a musical soiree in a week’s time.” She tipped her head and looked at him. “Have you been invited?”

  Shaking his head, Joseph frowned. “When did you say you learned about this event?”

  She waved a hand dismissively. “Lord Paulson spoke of the event. It seems he wishes me to attend and having not yet any means by which I might refuse him, I did, of course, accept.” Her sigh was long and pained. “Mayhap there is a way where you might find yourself in attendance also. I could take you along with me, I suppose. Lord Paulson should have no reason to object to that.”

  Joseph’s frown deepened, not truly understanding what Lady Starling meant. “But why should I wish to go to his residence to take part in a musical soiree?”

  “Because,” Lady Starling replied, looking out of the carriage window eagerly, ready to greet those she knew and catch the eyes of those she did not, “if we both attend together, then we should have ample opportunity to try and find something to use against the rascal.”

  Realizing what she meant, Joseph felt his heart slam into his chest as a warning rose in his mind. He ought to refuse, ought to walk away and state that such a thing could bring far too much scandal with it for him to even think of accepting, but such was the expectation in Lady Starling’s eyes that Joseph found himself quite mute.

  “Oh, I feel a good deal better now that we have a plan in mind,” Lady Starling continued, not allowing him even a moment to protest. “How wonderful, Lord Ancrum! We shall soon find ourselves free of Lord Paulson’s torment and what delights shall we share then.” She glanced back at him, throwing him a quick yet flirtatious look that, to Joseph’s dismay, brought a swirl of anticipation to his stomach. He could not tell whether it was the idea of searching Lord Paulson’s home that caught him so, or if it was the look Lady Starling had given him.

  “Perhaps then my reputation will have been well enough restored that I might begin to seek out a bride,” he said slowly, wanting Lady Starling to realize that he had meant what he had said the first time she had suggested sharing her affections with him. “That was to be my sole purpose this Season and may so be again.”

  Lady Starling sighed, but this time she appeared quite contented. “But of course, Lord Ancrum, I quite understand. You are so wonderful, so delightful, and so patient that I must believe that I have been blessed by God in heaven to have known you as my friend.”

  Joseph’s confusion and doubt began to fade as Lady Starling continued praising him, although he did attempt to tell her that she was doing it up much too brown. Lady Starling protested at once, claiming that he was not used to accepting a compliment or two and that she, therefore, would have to make certain that he was aware of his true worth, and that any young lady thereafter whom he set his gaze upon should also be caught up with his good heart and his considerate behavior. This made Joseph blush furiously, his heart aching suddenly as he looked back at Lady Starling and felt himself questioning whether Miss Whitaker had any thought as regarded his supposedly ‘good’ heart. She knew the measure of him, did she not? She had seen his disregard, his stupidity, his foolishness as well as how he had tried to defend her in front of her father. What did she think of him?

  Letting out a heavy breath, Joseph settled his head in his hands for a moment whilst Lady Starling, disregarding him completely, began to wave and coo out of the window as though she were the prize performer and her acquaintances the adoring crowd. There was something about Lady Starling that Joseph was beginning to dislike. Yes, she was beautiful, but he feared that she had used that beauty to manipulate him somewhat. On top of which, Joseph feared that he had agreed to something he did not particularly wish to do. He did not want to go through Lord Paulson’s belongings in search of some papers or the like, for he had very little idea of what he might discover that would shame Lord Paulson in the same way that he had brought shame to others. But somehow, he had agreed to it, and now it seemed there was nothing else for him to do but go on as Lady Starling had planned.

  Lifting his head, Joseph let his gaze settle on the view from the carriage window. The park was crowded and the carriage moved slowly, so that they might take everyone in. He tried to put himself in Lady Starling’s place, considering just how fearful she must have been when Lord Paulson had first approached her. Given that she had satisfied his first demand for money, it was more than likely
that Lord Paulson would demand more from her whenever he wished, meaning that she was going to be entirely unable to untangle herself from his clutches unless they did something. No wonder she appeared so contented and happy now. She had finally found some hope that she might be freed from her torment, which could well be the first hope she had felt in some time. Joseph nodded to himself, realizing that he had come across as a trifle selfish with his first consideration. He should be glad to help her in any way he could, as any true gentleman might. He would not accept any of her warm embraces by way of thanks, however, for he knew full well that Lady Starling might well offer them to him even though he had made himself quite clear that he would be doing nothing more than seeking a wife once his reputation was fully restored.

  Just then, his gaze snagged on one particular face. A shudder ran through him as he saw Miss Whitaker gazing at him, her eyes a little narrowed. Closing his eyes, Joseph let out a slight groan, knowing precisely what Miss Whitaker must think of him riding with Lady Starling. Had he not promised that he was doing all he could to attempt to reform himself? And had he not already proven himself to be something of a fool in his lack of consideration for her and his attitude towards her when they had spoken of Lord Paulson? Just how little she would think of him now.

  Forcing his eyes open, he looked back at the lady and saw how she frowned, her face still turned towards the slow-moving carriage. A strong desire began to build within him—a desire to sort matters out between them so that he could continue to do as he had promised. It was meant to be his way of making amends for his complete lack of disregard for knocking her down in the street, and thus far, he had managed to drive a strong wedge between them with his poor attitude and his frustration.

  “Is something the matter, Lord Ancrum?”

  Lady Starling’s singsong voice held no concern whatsoever and Joseph managed a grim smile in her direction, shaking his head. “No, indeed not, Lady Starling. Do forgive me if I have disturbed you from your conversation.” He could see a gentleman walking alongside the carriage who looked a trifle frustrated that Lady Starling had turned her attention to Joseph instead of remaining on him, and so he gestured back towards the fellow. “I am quite contented in my own thoughts, I assure you.”

  My own troubling thoughts, he mused to himself, as Lady Starling gave him another cursory glance before turning back to the other gentleman. Stifling yet another groan, Joseph turned his head back towards the window and let the weight of his thoughts bring another deep heaviness to his soul. He had made a muddle of almost everything he had put his mind to. Having knocked Miss Whitaker over, he had sought to make amends so that she would not spread her story amongst the ton and, in doing so, smear his reputation still more. However, he had only managed to make her believe he was an arrogant, rude sort who cared nothing for her own thoughts and determinations. Now, he feared that she might speak of what she knew to her many new acquaintances, meaning that he would be entirely lost. He had wanted to help Lady Starling in some way but had ended up agreeing to something that was a good deal more serious than he had intended where a lot could go wrong and he could find himself at the edge of scandal once more. Goodness, he was not making things particularly easy for himself.

  “I will explain all, Miss Whitaker,” he murmured, finding that it was she and not Lady Starling that held the bulk of his thoughts. “And I pray that, once again, you will forgive my foolishness and permit me another chance to show you the sort of gentleman I wish to be.”

  8

  It had surprised Lydia just how much she had felt upon seeing Lord Ancrum in the carriage with Lady Starling. Of course, she had told herself, it should not matter one iota what Lord Ancrum did or who he chose to spend his time with, but somehow the sight of him seated opposite from Lady Starling—well known to be a warm and welcoming young widow—had quite torn at her heart.

  It ought to have simply confirmed to her that she had made a mistake in believing that Lord Ancrum had wanted to regain his respectability in its entirety, but instead of being practically minded about it, she had felt a deep, unrelenting sorrow that had not left her in the last two days.

  However, she told herself, as the carriage drew up to Lord Paulson’s townhouse, she ought to be grateful that some good had come her way. Lord Paulson had seemed fairly eager to further his acquaintance with her and had invited her to his musical soiree—along with her mother, of course. Had it not been for the fact that Lord Paulson had sent Lady Templeton her own individual invitation, with an additional private note that had seemed to flatter the lady in some way, Lydia was not quite certain that Lady Templeton would have been willing to attend with her. However, as things stood, they were about to go in together to what Lydia hoped would be an enjoyable evening.

  “This Lord Paulson has taken a bit of a fancy to you, has he?” Lady Templeton asked, her voice a little shrill. “I must say, I am surprised.”

  Lydia said nothing, hearing the hardness of her mother’s voice and letting the snide remark pass without further comment.

  “He seems most amiable, however,” Lady Templeton continued, as the carriage steps were set down and the door opened. “I must hope that you do not set any store by his attentions, Lydia. He is, from what I have learned, something of a flirt. He seems to have a great many acquaintances and they all care for him deeply.” She threw a questioning look towards Lydia, who kept her face impassive. “You do not stand out in any way, dear girl. Do not expect him to fall over himself in an attempt to court you.”

  Lydia, who had not even permitted herself a single thought about Lord Paulson and the possibility of matrimony, merely shrugged and waited for her mother to climb down from the carriage. She considered Lord Paulson to be a gentleman with excellent conversation and a warm manner, but thereafter, Lydia was not quite certain what to make of him. There was, on occasion, a hardness about his eyes that frightened her, although it had never once been directed towards her.

  Climbing out of the carriage, Lydia set her shoulders and walked up the stone steps towards the front door, which was opened for them before they had reached the top step.

  “How lovely,” Lady Templeton said warmly as she walked into the townhouse and looked all about her. “Lord Paulson seems to be quite refined in his tastes.”

  Lydia opened her mouth to say that the décor was not that different to their own abode, but before she could say a word, the voice of Lord Paulson himself could be heard.

  “Indeed I am, Lady Templeton,” he said, striding from one room towards them. A murmur of voices and laughter could be heard as he gestured for them both to come into what Lydia presumed was the parlor. “I thank you for your consideration.” His eyes caught Lydia’s, who gave him a quick smile which was returned. Lord Paulson cleared his throat, standing by the door and inclining his head. “I am very glad to see you both. Good evening, Lady Templeton. Good evening, Miss Whitaker.”

  “Good evening, Lord Paulson,” Lydia replied, glancing up at him before she walked through the door and into one of the largest drawing rooms she had ever seen.

  It was lavish. There were candelabras in every corner, and more wherever they could be safely placed, lending a brightness to the room that was so often lacking in other homes. There hung large paintings on the wall and plush rugs hugged the thick carpet which lay on the floor at her feet. They were so thick that Lydia could feel her feet sinking into them as she escorted her mother to a seat by the small fire that seemed quite unnecessary in a room so filled with candles. She glanced up to see a large tapestry on one wall, the reflection of which was in the ornate mirror above the fireplace. All in all, it gave the impression that Lord Paulson was both wealthy and refined in ways that many could not boast of.

  “I am so very glad you were able to attend,” Lord Paulson said, coming up behind Lydia and making her shiver with his sudden nearness—although it was a shiver that spoke of an aversion of his closeness to her. Recalling how she had seen him speak to others of his acquaintance, L
ydia feared that he might now seek to make her behave as they did in giving him whatever he wished, no matter how much they did not want to.

  “Thank you for your invitation,” she replied calmly, turning about to face him. “And what is it that we are to listen to this evening?”

  Lord Paulson grinned. “I have four different performances prepared from four different groups of performers,” he replied, making her aware of just how much he seemed to revel in doing more than any other gentleman might. “And thereafter, some of my acquaintances have prepared a piece to perform for us. I know that they will not fail to bring great delight to all who hear them.”

  Lydia tried to look interested, whilst inwardly wondering if any of them had been told, rather than encouraged, to do as Lord Paulson wished. “It sounds quite remarkable,” she told him, seeing him smile and turn his head to one side, as though she might think better of him if she regarded him from this particular angle. “I look forward to it, Lord Paulson.”

  “As do I,” he replied with a sudden, swift bow that made her catch her breath in surprise. “And I do hope to converse with you again later this evening, Miss Whitaker.”

  Before Lydia could say another word, Lord Paulson had left her side and had moved to speak to someone new. He was the most extraordinary of gentlemen and she still had very little idea as to the truth of his character. It was as though he hid himself behind a façade that never once seemed to crack. Lydia did not much like the feeling that she did not know the true Lord Paulson and, therefore, decided inwardly that she did not care much for the fellow himself.

  “I did tell you, Lydia.”

  Her mother came near to her, shaking her head solemnly, but Lydia took no particular notice.