A Scandalous Vow (Scandalous Series Book 7) Page 4

  Alex seemed to bite back a smile. “Things would be much better if she liked you even a little, you know.”

  “Yes, well, to steal a phrase from Simon’s profession: I believe that ship has sailed.”

  “It could always return to port.”

  “And house cats could always carry Prinny’s carriage, but the likelihood is not high.”

  Alex simply shook his head in response.

  “But do keep an eye on Caroline for me?” he asked, but only because it was Alex, who didn’t know most of Marc’s secrets, but he did know how much Marc loved Caroline.

  “You could keep an eye on her yourself,” his friend said softly.

  “I don’t think she’d allow that.” Even if she had seemed impressed by his stature the other day when she’d barged into his bedchambers. She still blamed him for Staveley’s death, however. She probably always would.

  “Perhaps not,” Alex agreed. “But it doesn’t seem like you to give up.”

  It wasn’t like him at all. Though at the moment he didn’t have much of a choice.

  Chapter 5

  Marc stood just inside the threshold, wearing a dark robe, loosely knotted at his waist, his bare skin beckoning Caroline forward. Her pulse pounded. If she could just slide her hand inside his robe and brush her fingers across his chest…

  His roguish smile, as though he knew her inner thoughts, made heat pool in her belly and she somehow managed to cross her bedchamber without her knees buckling beneath her.

  He lifted his hand out to her and she accepted it without hesitation. Heavens! His touch nearly singed her as heat radiated through her body.

  “Ah, Caroline.” His voice rumbled over her as he drew her against him and lowered his mouth to…

  Ouch!

  Something pointy jabbed Caroline in the stomach and her eyes flew open to find Emma peering down into her face, looking rather wild. What in the world?

  “Wake up, Mama!” her youngest child begged, her pointy knee jabbing Caroline again as she scrambled off the bed. “I can’t find Lord Fluffington anywhere.”

  Blast it! Caroline scrubbed a hand down her face. Had she been dreaming? About Marc? That was hardly helpful for her sanity. Her heart still pounded, so Caroline took a steadying breath, hoping to wipe the dream from her thoughts. Though, after the other day, he was never far from her thoughts. The blasted man.

  “Mama!” Emma tugged her hand as though to pull her out of bed.

  What had Emma said? Her cat was missing? “You can’t find Fluff?”

  Emma shook her head, her dark curls bouncing dramatically. “I can’t find him anywhere. And Nelly hasn’t seen him. I’ve called and called. And then…”

  Her lip trembled as though she was about to burst into tears.

  “And then?” Caroline prodded, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, reaching out to her daughter.

  “A-and then I saw the window in Papa’s study was open and—“ She swiped at a tear “—Well, he could be anywhere! We have to find him, Mama!”

  They did have to find the white ball of fluff. Emma adored that cat. Caroline didn’t even want to think what losing him would do to her daughter, not after everything else she’d already lost. “I can’t go traipsing down Curzon Street like this.” She squeezed Emma’s hand. “We’ll leave as soon as I’m dressed, all right, sweetheart?”

  Emma nodded. “I’ll go get Rachel,” she said and then rushed from Caroline’s chambers as fast as her slippered feet would carry her.

  Caroline sighed as she rang for her maid. When had her life spun so completely out of control? Of course, she knew the answer to that question. Nothing had been right since David had been killed. He’d been so steady and even, always calm no matter what. They’d been together so long, Caroline hadn’t even realized that he’d been the reason everything in their lives ran so smoothly. But nothing ran smoothly anymore. Missing cats, borrowed butlers, open study windows. And why was the window in the study even open to begin with? Blast it all, she was doing an awful job keeping everything together. If David was watching from above, he had to be shaking his head in disapproval.

  But if he was still here, still alive, he’d find Lord Fluffington, and make it seem effortless. So that was what she had to do.

  After her maid arrived, Caroline quickly dressed, and then she made her way down the steps, finding both Emma and Rachel waiting for her by the front door with Simmons looking on, stoically.

  “Hurry, Mama!” Emma begged.

  “Yes, yes,” Caroline agreed. She glanced in Simmons’ direction, still not terribly happy the man was in her household. Random windows had never been left open under Tindle’s watch or Merton’s before him, for that matter. “Please make certain all windows are closed from here on out.”

  The butler nodded once. “You can depend upon me, Lady Staveley.”

  That remained to be seen, but she smiled in response. “Thank you.”

  He opened the door and held it wide. “Also, ma’am, Thompson and Hart have already gone out searching for Lord Fluffington.”

  Then hopefully her footmen would be victorious if Caroline and the girls came up short handed. “Which way did they go?” she asked.

  “They headed east, milady.”

  Then Caroline and the girls would head toward the park. “Thank you, Simmons.”

  Emma grabbed Caroline’s hand and began to tug her out the door with Rachel following right behind them. “Cook gave me a bit of duck since Fluff loves it so much. She said maybe he would smell it and come running.”

  “That was a good idea,” Caroline said as they started down Curzon Street.

  “Lo-or-rd Fluff-ing-ton!” Emma called and shook a little canvas bag.

  “Here, Fluff!” Rachel chimed in. “Where are you, boy?”

  They searched the mews and scanned each tree, looking for any sign of Emma’s cat. It took forever, but they finally made it as far as Hertford Street with no luck whatsoever, but with plenty of strange looks from passersby, most notably from the dowager Marchioness of Astwick. Well, everyone could think Caroline had lost her mind, calling for a silly-named cat and shaking a bag of duck like an imbecile, if they wanted to. In years past, she was certain they’d thought her equally mad, though for completely different reasons.

  “It’s possible Thompson and Hart found him already,” Rachel suggested when it seemed like Emma was about to cry suddenly.

  “You’re not giving up!” Emma accused.

  “No, no,” Rachel hastened to explain. “Just, it’s possible Thompson and Hart already found him. I’m not giving up, Em.”

  And then the most amazing thing Caroline had ever seen came into view. Striding in their direction, holding Lord Fluffington by the scruff of his neck was Lord Peasemore. His brow was knit, his jaw was tight, and…he had a claw scratch across his left cheek that was dripping a bit of blood onto his cravat. Disheveled as he was, he’d never been more handsome.

  “Lord Peasemore!” she exclaimed. “Where did you find Lord Fluffington?”

  “That’s his name?” the earl grumbled.

  “Oh, oh!” Emma squealed, bolting from Caroline’s side and rushing toward the earl, her arms outstretched. “Fluff! I’m so glad we found you!”

  Peasemore looked down at Emma and the tightness in his jaw loosened enough for him to smile briefly. “I take it you know this fellow?”

  Emma nodded eagerly, still reaching for her cat. “He’s my best friend.”

  Caroline and Rachel reached Emma and Peasemore just as the earl was about to hand Lord Fluffington over. “Be careful with him,” he began. “He doesn’t seem to be in a good mood.”

  But Emma paid the advice no heed at all as she wrapped Fluff in her arms and pressed kiss after kiss to the top of his white head, professing her undying love for the feline.

  Thank heavens! Caroline wasn’t certain what they would have done if the little fellow hadn’t been found. How terribly lucky they were Lord Peasemore had come across him.


  She glanced from her daughter back to the earl and smiled gratefully. “I don’t know how we’ll ever thank you.”

  “Where did you find him?” Rachel asked.

  “Well, I’d just left the park and saw him dart across the lane. Almost collided with a hack before I scooped him up,” Peasemore began. “Then I noticed his collar right before he branded me.” He pointed to his cheek. “Am I disfigured beyond all recognition?”

  That scratch did look like it hurt, and it was still bleeding. The poor man. Caroline shook her head. “Come back to Staveley House and we’ll have Cook prepare a poultice. You’ll be handsome as ever, my lord.”

  A slightly wicked twinkle lit his hazel eyes. “But perhaps a bit more dangerous looking? I can always use that to my advantage.”

  Caroline couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, well, we’ll see what we can do about that.”

  “Then lead on,” Peasemore said and offered Caroline his arm.

  Rachel sent her a slightly censorious expression over her shoulder before joining Emma and Lord Fluffington in front of them. What was that look supposed to mean?

  “I must confess,” Peasemore continued, “I have thought about you since our chance encounter the other day.”

  “The first time you rescued me.” Caroline smiled up at the earl, who truly could be described as a golden Adonis if one was the fanciful sort.

  “My pleasure on both occasions,” he assured her. “And while I do not want to get your hopes up, I may need to take you up on your offer from the other day.”

  Offer? Had she offered something? Caroline blinked up at the earl, wondering if she was losing her mind. If she’d offered anything, she couldn’t, for the life of her, remember what it was.

  “Your matchmaking skills,” he added a moment later as he must have interpreted her blank expression and decided to take pity on her.

  “My matchmaking skills?” Caroline echoed. “I thought you said no self-respecting rake would ever go to the altar willingly.”

  “Indeed,” he agreed with a nod. “But most self-respecting rakes also don’t have to answer to the Duchess of Newbury.”

  Her Grace did have a certain reputation, and Caroline bit back a smile. “Is your grandmother so very frightening?”

  “Do you know her well?” he countered.

  “Not particularly.” In fact, Caroline had only met the duchess once a number of years ago, and it seemed as though the woman had found her wanting.

  “Then you may count yourself fortunate in that regard.” Peasemore shook his head. “Even the most terrifying dragons are afraid of her, you can trust me on that.”

  Caroline couldn’t help but laugh.

  But Peasemore blew out a breath instead of joining her. “After sitting through a charming discussion of all my faults and failures yesterday, the most egregious being my continued bachelor state and general choice of companions, I might have mentioned that you’d offered to play matchmaker for me.”

  “Did you, indeed?” Caroline halted in her spot, drawing Peasemore to a stop beside her. She’d offered no such thing, not really. She wasn’t certain she even had matchmaking in her any longer.

  “Your reputation precedes you as well, my lady. Once I said those words, Her Grace was more than appeased. So I do hope I can convince you to be of assistance. And make my falsehood a reality before she ever finds out the truth.”

  Honestly, this was the last conversation Caroline expected to have today. How very odd on a number of different levels. Though she did owe him. He’d come to her rescue twice. Once with Marc and now with finding Fluff. “Is there a particular girl you have your eye on, Lord Peasemore?”

  If there was, he would certainly not need her assistance in the least. The man was so very handsome with a pleasant personality, and he was heir to the Newbury dukedom. He’d need more help fending off would-be countesses than finding one.

  Peasemore shrugged slightly. “There was a girl I had my eye on last season but she’s since married some dragoon guard. And my tastes generally tend toward the less than proper, if we’re being completely honest.”

  Which, of course, Caroline had heard. “And the already married,” she added evenly, glad Rachel and Emma had darted ahead and were too far out of earshot to overhear her. But if Peasemore was still engaged in a torrid affair with Louisa Ridgemont, he’d need to end it soon before pursuing an eligible debutante. After all, she’d never help put an innocent young girl in a situation that would only lead to her heartache.

  “That too,” he agreed.

  At least he was honest. That would make working with him easier. Actually, none of the men she’d assisted in the past had ever come to her willingly. This was a novel experience. “Any current entanglements?” she asked as she started once again for Staveley House, because she would need to know what she was dealing with if she agreed to help him.

  “Not as of a sennight ago.”

  Well, that was one less thing to worry about then. “This girl last season…What was it about her that called to you?”

  A genuine smile tipped his lips. “She was utterly charming. Well—” he shrugged again “—she was beautiful, of course, and from a good family, but she had such a charming air about her. Any time spent with her left me grinning like an idiot, I’m sure.”

  Wasn’t he adorable, and not nearly as roguish as she’d first thought?

  “To the casual observer, she was perfectly prim and proper,” he continued, “but I think it was her Scottish blood that held a hint of wildness and made her quite unlike any other girl in London.”

  Lady Elspeth MacLaren, well, Lady Elspeth Reid now, sister to the Earl of Ericht. That had to be whom Peasmore was referring to. The Scottish girl had married a dragoon guard the year before. And she was quite lovely. That information would give Caroline a general idea about the sort of girl who might make the earl a perfectly lovely countess, if she was seriously considering this endeavor. She still wasn’t sure if she was. “In all honesty, I’m not certain I’ll be able to duplicate my past successes, my lord.”

  He tilted his head closer to hers. “Is my reputation truly that bad?”

  His reputation had nothing to do with it. “No worse than my brother Luke’s was once upon a time. I’m just not certain I have the same abilities any longer.” After all, it was difficult to focus on happily-ever-afters when one felt hollow inside.

  The genuine smile he cast her made his hazel eyes shine just so. “I have all the faith in the world in you, Lady Staveley.” Then he shrugged as they neared her stoop. “Besides, I’d rather put my future in your hands than leave my fate up to my grandmother. She’d saddle me with some dreadful chit with the face of a sloth and the personality to match simply because she has hips for birthing.”

  Well…helping Lord Peasemore might just be the thing to help her feel a bit like her old self, even if it wouldn’t bring the order and steadiness to her life that she craved. And she did owe him a favor or two. “Give me the day to strategize,” she said. “But for now, let’s see what can be done about your cheek.”

  Chapter 6

  Someone had definitely climbed into Staveley House through the study window. The boot prints in the soft ground beneath that particular window were evidence enough of that. Marc’s stomach twisted at the thought. Who was it? How long were they inside? Did they find what they were looking for? And what if Caroline had stumbled upon the villain in the dead of night? What would have happened to her? Those last two questions would prevent him from sleeping for the foreseeable future.

  “I am sorry, milord,” Simmons muttered. “I never heard a sound. I—”

  “He’s a master,” Marc said, examining the broken seal of the window frame. A very specialized tool had been used for the job. “Lady Staveley is out?” he asked, as it wouldn’t do for Caroline to find him there.

  The butler nodded. “She and her girls are in search of Miss Emma’s escaped cat who went out the same way, apparently.”

&n
bsp; “Then she could be back in five minutes or five hours.” Marc frowned, sinking down to his haunches to examine the boot prints even closer. Hmm…a man would be heavier than a cat and would definitely leave his prints behind, but as soft as the ground was, one would think there’d be at least one set of paw prints as well if the animal went out the window. “Can you tell if anything is missing inside?”

  “Nothing seems to be, milord.” Simmons shrugged. “Not that I know what I’m looking for, but everything seems to be in order.”

  So the thief was an expert at covering his tracks…well, aside from those boot prints. Which begged the question, why wouldn’t he shut the window? So odd. “We were assuming Galloway’s man was staffed inside the house,” Marc said more to himself than to Simmons. There’d be no reason to crawl in through the window if the villain was part of the household.

  So perhaps he’d been right about Tindle from the beginning, and the ousted butler had returned to search Staveley’s study in the dead of night. If so, Marc would bet he’d come away empty handed. He supposed Staveley could have left the conspirators’ code in his study, but the late viscount was found more often in his library than anywhere else. If the code was at Staveley House, odds were it was hidden in the library somewhere. But Tindle would have no way of knowing of Staveley’s eccentricities as he’d never worked for the man.

  Marc pushed back to his full height and peered inside the window. Was more than just the cat missing? That was the question. If Tindle or some other fiend had found what they were looking for, there would be no need to return to Staveley House. But if they hadn’t found anything, odds were they’d return. And Caroline might not be as fortunate the next time.