A Scandalous Ruse (Scandalous Series Book 6) Page 4

  “So what did Gillingham do last night that caused a scene?” Lissy asked.

  Bella’s face warmed at just the memory of the previous evening. “He retched across some fellow’s boots, right in the middle of the Astwick ballroom. I won’t ever be able to show my face there again.”

  Lissy gasped in response. “He didn’t!” At Bella’s nod, her friend added, “Oh, Bella, that is truly awful. Who was the fellow?”

  The handsome man’s face flashed in Bella’s mind. He’d been so kind to try to steady Elliott on his feet. But the glare he cast her after Elliott had retched upon him made her wince even now. “I’m not sure. I haven’t seen him before and I’m rather certain he’d like to never see me again.”

  “Well, then he’s not worthy of thinking about,” Lissy remarked practically.

  And with that, Bella supposed she was in agreement. She couldn’t spend time wondering about the green-eyed gentleman when her whole future was at risk. Her whole future…Bella turned her attention back to the gentlemen walking along Rotten Row. Lord Weybourne was a friend of her cousin Chase’s, wasn’t he? No, he had a darkness about him, even if he could be brought up to scratch. Lord Glentworth, perhaps. Or possibly Mr. Parnham. Would one of them make a decent husband? And if so, how could she possibly entice one of them to offer for her, and within the next thirteen days?

  Lissy bumped Bella’s shoulder with her own. “You seem a bit on edge. Is everything all right?”

  Again, Bella glanced over her shoulder, hoping the two maids couldn’t hear their conversation. The two were still closer than Bella wished, so she threaded her arm through Lissy’s and drew her friend closer as they walked. “I need a husband!” Bella whispered urgently in Lissy’s ear.

  A look of terror splashed across her friend’s face. “Why would you possibly want one of those horrid creatures?”

  Because it was either that or end up in the Prussian countryside with her awful cousin. “Did you hear Lucinda Potts ran off to Gretna Green with Lord Brookfield?”

  “I certainly hope you’re not considering something equally rash,” Lissy replied, the look of terror hadn’t dissipated one bit.

  A Scottish wedding might send her grandfather straight to his grave. “I don’t know that an anvil wedding is necessary. A perfectly respectable wedding at St. George’s will suffice. But I need a husband, or in the very least, a fiancé. And I need him quickly.”

  Lissy stopped mid-step, and she glanced over her shoulder toward their maids. “We’re just going to sit a while.”

  Then she directed Bella toward a nearby bench.

  “Sitting isn’t going to change my mind,” Bella whispered only loud enough for Lissy to hear. And it wasn’t going to change her situation either.

  But Lissy shushed her, continuing to lead Bella toward the empty bench. “Rushing into a marriage is the worst possible thing you could do, Bella. You can take that from me.” Lissy dropped onto the bench and tugged Bella down beside her. “It’s one thing to turn your life over to a man you love and trust, and quite another to do so with a man you barely know.”

  Which was why she so desperately needed Lissy’s help. “I don’t have a choice with the timing.” Bella met her friend’s gaze. “Besides, it’ll be better with someone I choose rather than the awful man Grandpapa has in mind for me.”

  Lissy’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “Your grandfather?”

  Bella nodded, relieved Lissy was beginning to see how dire her situation really was. “My cousin. Johann von Guttstadt, Count of Hellsburg.” Bella shivered at just the thought of the man. “What a perfectly apt name that is, by the way. He is most definitely a horrid creature, as you say. And not one I want to spend the rest of my life with. So I have to find a husband quickly, before Hellsburg arrives in Town.”

  Lissy’s lips hardened to a straight, white line. “What about your father?”

  Her father was no help at all. Bella’s heart stung a bit to think such a thing, but it was the truth and it always had been. She shook her head. “Papa has never once defied Grandpapa. Not one time.” She heaved a sigh. “So you see, I need someone to offer for me before Grandpapa declares an edict and it’s too late.”

  After a moment of silence, a devious smile settled on Lissy’s lips. “You just need someone to offer for you?”

  Bella nodded, feeling a bit of relief for the first time in a day. “You look like you have a plan.”

  “Perhaps.” Lissy shrugged. “Your cousin, this Hellsburg fellow, he isn’t intent on staying in London, is he?”

  Not likely, not if Papa’s words were true. Bella shook her head. “I believe he’ll be returning to Prussia after he visits Grandpapa.” An image of her cousin standing on the deck of a ship with Bella by his side flashed in her mind. “And I don’t want to be with him when he leaves, Lissy,” she squeaked.

  “Or course not.” Lissy’s smile widened, and she looked a bit more confident than she had the moment before. “So you don’t really need a husband, just a fiancé. One you can break it off with after your cousin returns to the Continent.”

  Was Lissy mad? No man worth his salt would agree to such a thing. She frowned at her friend. “Is that all? I just need a fellow who will willingly let me cry off?”

  Lissy simply blinked at her as though the idea was a sound one.

  “I suppose,” Bella continued, “any gentleman would gladly let me make a fool of him. Is that your idea?”

  Lissy shrugged. “I’d offer up Edmund on a platter, but he’s only twelve. You don’t think your grandfather would agree to that, do you? I mean, he is already a duke. That should count for something, shouldn’t it?”

  A shadow fell over the two of them, and Bella glanced up to find Viscount Carraway standing before them, an annoyed expression on his handsome face. “What’s this about Edmund?”

  Oh good heavens! Bella was certain her heart stopped. Had Lord Carraway heard all of that? It was suddenly much warmer in the park, and she was certain her cheeks were as red as they’d ever been.

  “Uncle Fin,” Lissy began tartly as her smile faded and she folded her arms across her middle. “What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for you,” he returned calmly. “And I’m not your uncle.”

  No he was Lissy’s younger half-brother’s uncle, if Bella was correct, not that she could think clearly on the subject at the moment. What if Lord Carraway had heard everything? She would die right there on that bench.

  “You’re looking for me?” A false smile settled on Lissy’s face. “Come to apologize, have you?”

  Apologize? Bella looked from Lissy to Carraway and back. The viscount’s dark eyes narrowed on Lissy as though he was truly at the end of his rope.

  “Well, let’s have it, then. My apology,” Lissy pressed.

  The viscount’s brow rose in surprise. “Don’t even think to distract me, Felicity. What are you offering up Edmund for?”

  She wouldn’t tell him. Surely, she wouldn’t! Still, Bella’s heart beat at a rapid pace and she thought it quite possible she might faint right then and there if Lissy divulged even part of the truth to the angry viscount.

  “Nothing that concerns you,” her friend replied waspishly, and Bella breathed a slight sigh of relief.

  “On the contrary, anything that concerns Edmund, concerns me.”

  Why couldn’t he leave well enough alone? Bella fidgeted in her seat, wringing her hands in her lap. “Honestly, it’s nothing, Lord Carraway. We’re just being silly.”

  “Silly, I believe.” The viscount’s dark gaze never wavered from Lissy. “I sent you a note this morning.”

  “Did you?”

  “You know I did. You had a footman return it. Unopened.”

  “Highly improper to send a girl who isn’t your niece a note, my lord. And I know how you regard propriety above all things,” Lissy returned rather smugly. “Do you—”

  “As your brother’s guardian,” he cut her off, “I believe I’m granted some leeway in
regard to my correspondence with you, my lady.”

  “Oh?” Lissy blinked up at him. “Has something happened with Edmund?”

  The viscount’s eyes darted from Lissy to Bella and back again. “Might I have a word with you alone?”

  “Very well.” Lissy heaved a sigh as she pushed off the bench. “I’ll be back in a moment, Bella.”

  Lord Carraway offered his arm to Lissy, which she begrudgingly took and let him lead her toward a copse of trees a few feet away. Bella couldn’t hear a word of their conversation, but it seemed as though the two were quarreling, which was odd. Bella never thought of Lissy as quarrelsome in the least. In fact, she was always the most cheerful of Bella’s former schoolmates.

  The viscount said something that made Lissy pout. That couldn’t be good whatever it was. Hopefully, he wasn’t putting her in temper. Lissy wouldn’t be able to think clearly if he was, and if ever Bella needed her friend to think clearly, it was now. A moment later, after what seemed like a short, heated exchange, Lissy tipped her nose in the air and spun around back toward Bella.

  Lord Carraway reached for Lissy’s arm, but she yanked it out of his grasp, and the viscount fell forward, right onto his hands and knees in the middle of the park.

  Goodness! Bella gasped, as did a fair number of others nearby. Lissy didn’t even slow her gait, however, not stopping until she reached Bella’s bench.

  “Heavens, Lissy!” Bella touched a hand to her heart. “Did you see Lord Carraway?”

  “Come along, Bella,” Lissy said, reaching her hands out to her. “I think I know someone who will help us.”

  Oh that was wonderful news! “You do?” Bella rose to her feet. “Who?”

  “Cordie Clayworth,” Lissy returned, threading her arm through Bella’s. “She and her husband are fairly close to the Marquess of Haversham. And if there’s a fellow who has no need of a wife, it’s Haversham.”

  That was Lissy’s grand idea? Bella thought she might be ill. “Haversham?” she echoed. One of the most depraved and notorious rakes to ever step foot in London?

  Lissy shrugged. “I’d wager he could be convinced to help one way or another.”

  That was beside the point. He was wholly unacceptable. “Even if he could be convinced, I doubt Papa would accept an offer from him.”

  But her friend didn’t seem to be swayed by that argument. “Cordie has a calm head. She’ll help us come up with something.”

  “I don’t know,” Bella hedged. “I don’t really know Lady Clayworth very well.” And she couldn’t ask such a favor from a mere acquaintance. Even acquaintance was a stretch. She seemed to remember that she was at some garden party with the countess the previous season, but they didn’t even speak.

  Again, Lissy seemed unconcerned with the particulars as she grinned from ear to ear. “Well, luckily, I do. She’s one of my dearest friends and she possesses a most devious mind.”

  “And you think she’ll help me?” If she could help, if Lissy seemed certain the countess could be counted on, Bella did need whatever help she could get. Her allies, thus far, hadn’t helped her cause in the least.

  Chapter 4

  Good God. Had Carraway just fallen, nearly on his face, in the middle of Hyde Park? Greg’s eyes had widened at that, but even more so when he noticed that the blonde who was escaping the politician tugged a familiar dark-haired beauty off a nearby bench and then started quickly for the exit.

  That dark-haired beauty, he’d never forget, not even if he wanted to. She really was stunning with the sun shining down on her, even more so than she had been the night before. She appeared distressed, however, and for the briefest of moments, Greg thought to follow the pair and see if they were all right, but they quickly climbed into a coach bearing the Prestwick crest and were gone a moment later. So he turned his attention back toward Tattersalls in Hyde Park Corner.

  A number of fellows already filled the yard and Greg hoped he hadn’t missed a piece of horseflesh he might actually be interested in, but before he could reach his destination, he heard someone call out his name, “Greg Avery!”

  Greg stopped in his tracks and glanced over his shoulder and a genuine smile did settle across his lips. Good God, it had been a lifetime since he’d seen his old friend, the Earl of Thurlstone. “Simon Masters!” he replied as he spun on his heel to greet the man.

  Simon, with some fellow Greg had never seen before, strode across the park until they’d reached him. “Has the world come to an end?” his old friend teased as he reached his hand out to Greg. “When did you get to Town?”

  “A few weeks ago,” Greg replied. Then he nodded in greeting toward the stranger who’d followed Simon’s lead across the park.

  “A few weeks ago?” his friend echoed, incredulously. “And you didn’t think to seek me out before now? I am wounded.”

  Simon had always been prone to exaggerations. The man wasn’t wounded in the least, but he had become quite the lothario in the years since they’d been in school together. “Just assumed you were busy debauching virgins when you weren’t making sacrifices to the Gods,” he said, remembering a particular school prank that nearly had Simon thrown out of Eton in their third year.

  His old friend shook his head. “One pagan ritual, and you never let me forget it.” Then he gestured to the fellow at his side. “Lord Avery, Mr. John Heaton of Boston,” he introduced the two of them.

  “My lord,” Heaton said, his American accent unmistakable. How very unusual in the middle of Hyde Park, Americans being so rare on this side of the Atlantic.

  “Pleasure,” Greg muttered in greeting.

  “Where are you headed?” Simon asked.

  “Tattersalls.” Greg gestured to Hyde Park Corner. “My stables need stocking.”

  “We’ll join you,” Simon replied, then nodded toward his companion. “Showing Heaton all the sites of Town while he’s here.” He smiled at the American. “Tattersalls has the greatest selection of horseflesh found on any continent, I’m sure.”

  “Well, then, lead on,” Heaton replied good-naturedly.

  As the trio started toward Tattersalls together, Simon said to Greg. “I have just bought into Heaton’s shipping company. You are looking at two-thirds of Heaton, Pierce and Masters shipping.”

  Simon Masters was going into trade? His priggish father was probably rolling over in his grave somewhere. “Indeed?”

  “I think it’ll be a grand adventure,” his friend continued. And as they approached Tattersalls yard, he groaned.

  Greg glanced at his friend. “Some sort of problem?”

  Simon scrubbed a hand down his face. “Damned Sarsden is here?”

  Greg nodded. “He’s been here every time I’ve come by, actually.”

  “As though he could possibly know anything about horseflesh or anything else of merit.” His friend shook his head as Harry Kearnsy, Viscount Sarsden started toward them. Then he muttered to Heaton, “Do try not to judge all Englishmen by this particular dullard.”

  “Ah!” Sarsden called to Greg. “Wondered if you were going to make it today.”

  Until his return to London, Greg hadn’t laid eyes on Sarsden since their school days. He wasn’t the most interesting fellow. Simon was right on that account. But while Greg wouldn’t have ever considered Sarsden a friend, he had been friendly enough the last few weeks. “Hoping there’s something worth seeing today.”

  Simon half-heartedly muttered introductions and then turned his eye to the yard. “Looks like a nice Arabian,” he said.

  “Indeed, indeed,” Sarsden agreed. “Everyone is chatting about that fellow.”

  The horse was a good size and his gait seemed even, but there was something about him Greg didn’t care for. The look in his eyes, perhaps? “Everyone else can have him, as far as I’m concerned.”

  Sarsden shook his head. “On my life, Avery, you are the hardest to please fellow I know.”

  “Nothing wrong with being discerning,” Simon muttered under his breath, and Greg b
it back a smile.

  Not that Sarsden cared as the man proceeded to wax poetic over the Arabian’s color and his lineage until Greg scrubbed a hand down his face in boredom. Simon had called their former classmate a dullard and that might be quite the compliment.

  “Just selective about what I’ll add to my stables,” Greg finally said. “I am the one who has to live them, after all. There’s no use wasting money for no good reason.”

  “Here, here,” Simon agreed.

  Sarsden laughed at that. “Think I could bring my wife around Avery House this afternoon and you could press upon her the same sentiment?”

  What in the world was that supposed to mean? Greg tilted his head to see the man better and frowned in response. “I beg your pardon?”

  But his old schoolmate only shook his head once more. “On my life, the woman spends money faster than she breathes.”

  “Which is precisely why I don’t have one,” Simon said with a sigh. “That and whenever a fellow gets married he becomes more of a bore than he had been previously.”

  “Present company excluded, I would hope.” Sarsden frowned at Simon.

  Simon, however, did not amend his statement in the least. Instead, he added, “Any man who enjoys his freedom and full coffers, would be well to avoid matrimony forever, or at least as long as he is able.”

  “The freedom bit is quite true,” Sarsden agreed, apparently letting the slight to his general person go for the moment. “My wife subjected me to two musicales this last week? Two of them. And telling her I do not enjoy such entertainments fell completely upon deaf ears, let me assure you.”

  At that Greg snorted. “Everything I say falls on my sister-in-law’s deaf ears.”

  Sarsden smacked his hand to Greg’s back. “And not even getting the benefits of her warming your bed. At least I have that going for me.”

  “Everyone should have something,” Simon muttered, though Sarsden didn’t appear to notice the comment as a nice looking Andalusian entered the yard and caught his attention.

  “Can you find something wrong with that one?” he asked Greg.