Devilish Games of a Virtuous Lady: A Steamy Regency Romance

by Osborne, Scarlett

  And so she was to return to the city she had fled. No, not just return to the city. Return to the city in the company of the Duke of Banfield.

  Life can be stranger than anything I’ve read in my fairytales…

  Letitia stood outside the coaching house beside the Duke, waiting for the coachman to return with his carriage.

  “My father will not get away with this,” she said. “I mean to see to it that he is punished.” Plans were beginning to form in her head. Plans she intended to discuss with Lord Radcliffe and the Duke on the long journey back to London.

  “I’m glad of it.” The Duke glanced at Letitia. “You’re a lovely young lady, Miss Caddy, but the truth is, I love another.” He glanced over at the door of the coaching house as Lord Radcliffe appeared in his greatcoat and scarf. “And I suspect your heart is also somewhere else.”

  Letitia felt color rise in her cheeks.

  Is it truly that obvious?

  “I’m sorry about my father, Your Grace. And I’m so sorry for all the dreadful things I said to you.”

  The Duke flashed her a smile. “There’s nothing to apologize for, Miss Caddy. None of this is your fault. We’ll see that your father gets what he deserves. And we will make sure he never mistreats you again.”

  * * *

  The Baron of Mullins shoved tobacco into his pipe and jammed it between his teeth. He lit it carefully, then flung the burnt-out match across his desk.

  He had not heard back from the Marquess of Radcliffe.

  Good.

  In Colin Caddy’s opinion, the Marquess was just a little too confident in his own abilities. A little too proud of his success in the business. Whenever the Baron discussed the tobacco trade, Lord Radcliffe’s name always came up.

  “I hear he imports the finest products from Virginia.”

  or, “You’re lucky you’ve got yourself a fine a supplier as Lord Radcliffe.”

  The Baron wished it were him people spoke of in such a way.

  He’d been lying, of course, when he’d told the Marquess his tobacco was inferior. But doing such a thing had made him feel oddly powerful. Had gone some way to showing Lord Radcliffe he was not as untouchable as the rest of the industry believed him to be.

  The Baron wished he’d been there to see the look on Radcliffe’s face when he had opened the letter.

  He glanced down at the newspaper strewn across his desk. There was Letitia’s face staring up at him, announcing to the world that the Mullins’ lives were falling apart. The Baron turned it over, unable to look at it.

  He clenched his hand into a fist and blew a long line of smoke up to the ceiling. Here was the anger he was unable to keep inside any longer. For eighteen years he had done everything for his daughter. And this was how she repaid him?

  Marriage to a Duke was a thing all young ladies ought to have dreamed of. What was wrong with Letitia? Marrying the Duke of Banfield would have been a fine thing for her. An even finer thing for this family.

  As a lowly baron, he had always been at the bottom of the social ladder. What a cursed thing it was to step inside a ballroom and know every gentleman inside outranked you. It made him feel insignificant. Tiny and worthless, as though no one would care a scrap— or even notice— if he were simply to disappear.

  But with the Duke of Banfield as a son-in-law, things would have changed.

  Colin Caddy would have been respected. He would have had worth, influence. And when people spoke of the tobacco trade, it would be his name that sprung first to everyone’s lips.

  Damn you, Letitia! Look at all you’ve taken from me!

  His rage flaring suddenly, the Baron snatched the newspaper from the desk and flung it across the room.

  * * *

  Algernon was glad to see his manor. And he was unspeakably glad to be returning with Miss Caddy. But she hovered awkwardly by the door of the Duke’s carriage, staring down at his outstretched hand.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked. “You don’t wish to come inside?”

  “I couldn’t. I—” Her cheeks colored slightly, making his heart swell with affection. “You know who I am. You know I’m no kitchen hand.”

  Algernon smiled. “This is your home.”

  It’s where you belong, he wanted to say. He understood, of course. An unmarried lady sleeping beneath a nobleman’s roof would cause the greatest of scandals if anyone were to find out. But he knew well there was nowhere else for her to go. How could she return to her father’s manor after learning all she had?

  “No one else will be using the attic room,” he said gently. “And I’ll not breathe a word to anyone about who you truly are.”

  The corner of Miss Caddy’s lips turned up. “And Harriet?”

  Algernon chuckled. “I’m afraid I can’t make the same promises about her. She’s never been known for her ability to stay quiet.”

  Miss Caddy laughed her bell of a laugh. What a joy it was to hear the sound. After all she had been through, Algernon was endlessly grateful she was still able to smile.

  He glanced towards the manor at the sight of his daughter bounding out of the house in her day dress, her messy plait dangling over one shoulder. “But I know she will be overjoyed to see you back here.”

  After a moment, Miss Caddy nodded faintly. She placed her hand in his and climbed from the carriage.

  Harriet raced down the front path towards them. “Miss Caddy!” She flung her arms around her waist. “You came back!”

  Miss Caddy returned Harriet’s tight embrace. “Yes,” she said. “Your father convinced me.” She flashed Algernon a smile that made his heart skip.

  Harriet pulled away from Miss Caddy and threw her arms around her father. Algernon smoothed her hair. He could not remember the last time he’d spent a night away from Harriet. He’d found himself missing her dearly. Then he pulled his watch from his pocket and glanced down at it. “Harriet, is Miss Scott not here for your lessons?”

  “Oh yes,” she said airily. “She’s teaching me how to do chain stitch. But when I saw the carriage return, I just had to come and see you.”

  Algernon pointed back to the house. “Back to your lessons,” he said firmly. “Now. And make your apologies to Miss Scott.”

  Harriet sighed dramatically, but trotted back into the house without another word.

  Algernon shook his head in frustration, but was unable to hold back a smile. He put the gentlest of hands to Miss Caddy’s shoulder to usher her towards the house.

  “Are you certain about this?” she asked.

  “Of course. As long as you are.”

  She nodded. “There’s nowhere else I would rather be.”

  Her words left a warmth inside him. “Your secret will be safe with me,” he assured her. “As will your reputation.” He flashed her a playful grin. “And I promise I’ll not come near you.”

  Miss Caddy returned his smile. And Algernon felt that warmth spark into a blaze as he recognized the tiniest hint of disappointment in her eyes.

  Chapter 30

  Algernon made his way into his office. The unplanned journey to Northampton had put him behind schedule somewhat. He sat at his desk and began to rifle through the chaos of papers.

  One day I’ll learn to be organized…

  At the top of the pile, he found a scrawled note. He skimmed over its contents.

  A note from Lady Worthington, asking him to call on her.

  Algernon felt a sinking inside him. In all that had happened over the past few days, Lady Worthington had not made it into his thoughts. He felt a pang of guilt. She was a kind and genuine lady. She deserved far better.

  She had deserved far better from the beginning, Algernon chided himself. His tryst with Lady Worthington had only ever been about trying to empty his thoughts of Molly Cooper. And that was simply not a decent thing to do.

  He would call on her that afternoon as she had requested. He would make his sincere apologies. Do his best to make things right.

  * * *

&
nbsp; “Lord Radcliffe,” Lady Worthington said, smiling as she ushered him into her parlor, “I’m very glad you came.”

  “Forgive the belatedness of my response. I’ve only recently returned to London.”

  “Oh?” She raised her neat eyebrows. “A business trip?”

  Algernon flashed a smile. “Something like that.”

  Lady Worthington gestured to the chaise. “Please, sit, My Lord. I’ll call for some tea.”

  Lord Radcliffe remained standing. He swallowed hard. “There’s something I need to say, My Lady. And I hope you—”

  “Please, Lord Radcliffe. Let me speak. I insist.” She took a long breath. “There’s a reason I asked you here today.”

  Algernon nodded.

  Lady Worthington stood facing him, folding her long fingers together in front of her waist. “I need to apologize,” she began, her dark eyes large and somber.

  “Apologize?”

  “Yes. For beginning this dalliance with you.” She sighed. “I began to seek a new husband because I knew it was what my brother wished for me. He told me it was what I needed, and I foolishly believed him, without thinking to question it.” She lowered her eyes. “But I’ve come to see I’m not ready for such a thing. I loved my husband dearly. And my heart is still with him. It would be wrong of me to continue to see you under such circumstances.”

  She met Algernon’s eyes That sorrow in her gaze was so familiar. He had seen it reflected back at him in the mirror many times.

  He took a step towards her. “I understand, My Lady,” he said gently. “More than you could know.”

  She managed a pale smile. “Of course you do.”

  “Perhaps I am not the right person to tell you this,” Algernon began, “having locked myself away from the world for many years. But I promise you things will improve. One day you will be ready to love again.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Lady Worthington unclasped her hands. “You’re a good gentleman, Lord Radcliffe. I very much hope our paths will cross again.” She smiled. “That is, if you ever manage to make it to another social occasion. Word is you’re something of a recluse.”

  Lord Radcliffe chuckled. “Not anymore.” He took Lady Worthington’s hand and brought it to his lips. “Good day to you, My Lady. I very much hope we will meet again.”

  * * *

  “Oh, would you look who’s decided to show herself,” Margaret said brassily as Letitia crept into the kitchen.

  Letitia pulled her grimy apron from its hook and bundled it around her waist. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I had some… family issues.”

  “Yes,” said Margaret, turning back to her soup pot with disinterest. “I’m sure you did.” She flapped a meaty hand towards the pile of apples on the bench. “If you’re not too busy, you can peel and chop those,” she said wryly.

  Letitia nodded obediently and pulled a knife from the drawer.

  “Interesting,” Margaret said, without looking at her, “that you return at the very same time as the Marquess.”

  Letitia felt color rise in her cheeks.

  Say nothing. It’s far safer…

  Margaret looked over her shoulder at Letitia, clearly irritated at her silence. “Nothing to say about that then?” she prodded.

  Letitia shook her head. “Nothing at all.”

  Lord Radcliffe had looked horrified when she had told him she planned to return to the kitchen.

  “Miss Caddy, please,” he said. “It’s really not necessary.”

  “It is necessary,” she told him firmly. “I’m here as your kitchen hand, not a lady. And I intend to act the part.” She fixed him with eyes that told him he was not to argue. “There’s no need to look so horrified, My Lord. No one will ever know you have a lady working in your kitchen.”

  Lord Radcliffe grinned. “That’s not what horrifies me. It’s the thought of eating another of your suppers.”

  Letitia smiled to herself as she sliced the apples. The rhythm of the knife against the chopping board was satisfying. There was something calming about losing herself in this work for a time. Perhaps she might have been happy had she truly been born into the working class. It seemed a far simpler existence.

  Being around Lord Radcliffe had not managed to ease the ache caused by her father’s betrayal.

  The Baron had been the closest thing she had to a hero in her life. He may not have sailed a tall ship, or fought villains on horseback, but he had once been her world. Once, she had no doubt that everything the Baron did was for her. When he had spoken of finding her a fine husband, she had believed wholeheartedly he was doing such a thing to make his only daughter happy.

  Have I been a fool?

  No, she decided. A daughter ought to be able to trust her father. And tomorrow, he would be punished for betraying that unconditional trust. Tomorrow, the Baron of Mullins would learn that his daughter was no longer the naïve and over-trusting weakling she had once been.

  Chapter 31

  The Baron of Mullins stared down at the message his footman had delivered.

  A request from the Duke of Banfield to discuss his upcoming wedding to Letitia.

  The Baron had no idea what to feel. Had the Duke not heard of Letitia’s disappearance? He had assumed every gentleman in the ton knew by now. This ignorance on the Duke’s part was surprising.

  But it did not change the fact that Letitia was missing. Yes, he could go to the Duke and make plans for the most elaborate wedding the ton had ever seen. But the ruse would be shattered somewhat if he were not able to produce a bride…

  For not the first time that morning, the Baron cursed under his breath at Letitia.

  He looked back at the letter.

  Am I to be honest and admit to the Duke what has happened? Or go ahead with these plans and hope against hope that my daughter decides to show herself?

  Honesty would destroy him. He had to carry on this ruse as long as possible.

  He scrawled a reply to the Duke.

  I shall be most happy to meet and discuss your upcoming wedding to my daughter, Your Grace…

  * * *

  There was something different about the Duke of Banfield. The Baron couldn’t quite place it.

  The last time they had spoken, Banfield had walked with his head down and his shoulders sunken. He had looked tired and old. A downtrodden and penniless gentleman with no choice but to accept the Baron’s terms of repayment.

  It had been here at the Banfield manor that Colin Caddy had first presented the idea of the Duke marrying Letitia.

  No, not presented. More like thrust it upon him.

  The Baron had appeared at Banfield’s door clutching the most recent letter the Duke had sent him. A miserable letter suggesting even more miserable terms of repayment for the debts. Rejecting the Duke’s offer had made Colin Caddy feel powerful. Strong. Had made him see opportunity.

  He had strutted into the Banfield manor with his chin held high.

  “These are my terms, Banfield. My daughter’s hand, in exchange for what I am owed. I’m sure you will agree to it. After all, you don’t want to find yourself in debtor’s prison…”

  The Duke had accepted with a weary resignation. In spite of his satisfaction at the arrangement, the Baron’s neck had prickled with anger. How dare Banfield be so dejected about the whole matter? Letitia was a beautiful young lady. Any gentleman would be lucky to have her!

  But today, Banfield seemed downtrodden no longer. Now the Duke’s eyes were shining and he held himself tall, with his shoulders pressed back and his chin lifted. He wore a dark green embroidered waistcoat that seemed fair less threadbare than the rest of the clothes the Baron had ever seen him in, and he smelled faintly of rosewater. He seemed an entirely different person.

  Perhaps he has finally come to realize how lucky he is to be betrothed to my daughter…

  The Baron gave him his broadest smile. “You look well, Your Grace.”

  The Duke bowed his head in greeting. “Thank you, Lord Mullins.”<
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  Banfield did not offer him the same compliment, the Baron noticed. He wasn’t surprised. He knew he did not look well. The stress over Letitia’s disappearance and the effect it would have on his reputation had left him haggard. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes and far too much color in his cheeks. The creases in his forehead had deepened. He had spent many a sleepless night over the past weeks staring in the darkness and wondering how long it would be until this precarious life of success he had built began to crumble. Perhaps it already had.