The Cheeky Minx

by Farmer, Merry

  “You will do your duty as a wife,” her mother went on, thankfully unable to see Jo’s thoughts. “That is all that is required of you. You will not ask questions about your husband’s extramarital activities. That’s what chased the last one away,” her mother added in a wry aside.

  “His last wife?” Jo asked, dread pooling in her stomach.

  “Broken engagement,” her mother said, again an indirect answer that meant she could convey information without fully acknowledging Jo’s presence. “He’s desperate for heirs, but now that his nature has been made public, few respectable young ladies are willing to affiance themselves to him, in spite of the title.”

  “Title?” Jo sat straighter. Perhaps, like Rebecca, she would be fortunate enough to accidentally marry a peer.

  “Yes,” her mother said, meeting Jo’s eyes at last. “You are engaged to Lord Felix Harlow, Earl of Lichfield.”

  Chapter 2

  “I’m engaged to Lord Lichfield?” Jo squeaked before she could stop herself.

  Immediately, the image of him as she’d seen him three weeks ago, devilishly spanking the bare bottom of a woman at one of Mr. Khan’s revels, popped to her mind. She tried reminding herself that the woman hadn’t looked as though she minded being spanked at all, but that brought up a wealth of overheated emotions that were decidedly inconvenient while she was trapped alone in a carriage with her mother.

  “Do not look so squeamish, child,” her mother snapped, shaking her head, her lip curled in a sneer. “The man has a reputation, it is true, but considering your own reputation, I should think you would thrill at this chance.”

  As much as Jo told herself her mother’s words shouldn’t sting, they did. “I don’t have a reputation, Mama. I have never misbehaved in public.”

  Her mother snorted and glanced out the window. “In public,” she repeated scoffingly.

  A wall went down between them. The conversation was over, and Jo knew there wasn’t a thing she could do to salvage her worth in her mother’s eyes. One minor indiscretion, one moment of indulgence—a moment that her mother hadn’t even witnessed—and in her mother’s eyes, she was no better than the jades lurking around the theater. It was all Wilma’s fault at that. Her sister had exaggerated the whole thing horrifically, and now here Jo was, engaged to a criminal.

  She caught her breath as the carriage jerked to a stop in front of a stately, Georgian townhouse in Mayfair. She was engaged to the diamond thief. Which, of course, meant that she couldn’t possibly have a marriage based on love, like she’d so hoped she would. But there were benefits to the mad match. She was now in a better position than anyone to needle a confession out of him and to bring him to justice. Perhaps fate had done her a favor after all.

  But when she stumbled out of the carriage—without any help from her mother or the coachman, who fawned all over her and ignored Jo—they were met at the front door not by Lord Lichfield, but by a dour-faced butler.

  “Good morning, madam,” the butler said with a deep bow. “Lady Lichfield is waiting for you.”

  Jo swallowed her nerves and vowed to face whatever was waiting for her with dignity and grace. Even though she was wearing a drab school uniform that barely had any shape itself, let alone enough to emphasize her natural shape, she walked with her back straight and her chin held high through the hall and into the parlor where the butler led them.

  Her spirits sank in an instant at the sight of the woman waiting for them.

  “Lady Lichfield,” her mother said, sweeping into the room with all the confidence that her father’s vast fortune and social connections gave her. “How lovely to see you.”

  “And you, my dear.” Lady Lichfield stood to greet Jo’s mother, pretending to embrace her and kiss her on each cheek, although Jo doubted the two women actually touched each other. “I’ve had Cook prepare your favorite lemon tarts.”

  “You are too kind,” her mother said with an airy laugh. She followed Lady Lichfield to one of the two settees in the room, and both ladies sat.

  Lady Lichfield was clearly cut from the same cloth as Jo’s mother. She was short but managed to carry herself in a way that made her appear taller. Her day dress was of the highest fashion with accent jewelry that was worth a small fortune. That alone made Jo narrow her eyes slightly to study the woman. Perhaps Lord Lichfield stole the diamond to please his mother. Lady Lichfield kept her expression as bland as possible, which might have explained why she had fewer lines and wrinkles on her face than most women her age, as if she had made a study of not taxing the muscles in her face.

  “So,” Lady Lichfield said, glancing to Jo for the first time and studying her with cold eyes. “Is this her?”

  “Yes,” Jo’s mother said. “As you can see, she is comely. She is neither clever nor inquisitive, so she will not be of trouble to you.”

  “I can see.” Lady Lichfield tipped her head back, studying Jo down her nose. “You are correct. She does not have that spark of insouciance that I so dislike in young ladies these days.”

  “She will be biddable as long as you maintain a firm hand,” her mother went on.

  “She does not speak out of turn?” Lady Lichfield asked.

  “No. If she does, an immediate and sharp correction will set her straight.”

  Jo swallowed, dreading what her mother meant by a “sharp correction”.

  Lady Lichfield’s gaze swept over Jo’s body. “Are her hips sufficiently wide for bearing children?”

  “They are,” Jo’s mother confirmed. “I brought five children into this world without a problem, and between them, her two older sisters already have four.”

  “And she will not fuss when bedded, no matter how peculiar my son’s tastes?”

  Jo’s cheeks burned with anger and embarrassment. Her mother and Lady Lichfield were discussing her as though she were a broodmare. Worse still, it was clear that, in fact, that was all she was required to be.

  Her mother laughed. “I doubt Lord Lichfield will have a problem in that area. For in spite of my best efforts, my daughter is wanton in the extreme.”

  “Not too much, I hope,” Lady Lichfield said, turning to Jo’s mother in horror. “Her fidelity must remain unquestionable.”

  “I can assure you that the good work Miss Dobson is doing at her school has curbed her loose inclinations,” her mother assured Lady Lichfield. “She will readily part her legs where necessary and keep them clamped shut otherwise. And if she does not, Lord Lichfield can send her abroad as soon as an heir and a spare are born.”

  “Perfect,” Lady Lichfield said with a slight smile. “My son will be pleased.”

  Jo was on the verge of tears. She couldn’t have imagined a worse humiliation if she had tried. A maid brought in tea on a silver service, and Lady Lichfield served herself and Jo’s mother, but neither of them offered so much as a crumb to Jo, nor did they invite her to sit down.

  “She isn’t flighty, is she?” Lady Lichfield asked, nibbling on a biscuit once the tea was poured. “I don’t want a repeat of the Lady Malvis situation.”

  Even that tidbit of gossip did nothing to improve Jo’s flagging spirits. Lady Malvis was the daughter of a duke who had been engaged to Lord Lichfield in the spring but who had called off the engagement under mysterious circumstances. That Lord Lichfield was willing to settle for the daughter of a merchant instead of a titled lady said more about his desperation than her value.

  “She will do as she’s told,” Jo’s mother reassured Lady Lichfield, speaking as though Jo weren’t there. “No matter what shocks she receives.”

  Jo’s heart sped up, even as it sagged. There could be no doubt that the shock in question was the fact that her fiancé was a thief. Was she expected to provide the man with an heir and a spare while he languished in prison for the crime? Was that why no woman of birth and breeding would have him.

  “Good morning, mother.”

  Her thoughts were cut short with a jolt as Lord Lichfield himself strode into the room. Prickles ra
ced down her back, and the image of him smacking the woman’s bottom rushed back to her mind. Hard on the heels of that, Lord Lichfield walked past her and into her view. He went dutifully to kiss his mother’s cheek, straightened and bowed to Jo’s mother, then turned to Jo.

  A ripple of heat claimed Jo as Lord Lichfield smiled. Devil though he may be, he was a handsome one. He was tall and well-built, with dark hair and eyes that sparkled with his smile. His suit was the height of fashion and his cravat was tied high on his neck, but it was at that moment that Jo realized she’d been so enamored of the way he had manhandled his companion on that fateful night that she’d forgotten his shirt had been undone and part of his chest was showing. Lord Lichfield was the finest specimen of masculinity that she’d ever seen.

  “Good morning,” he addressed her, his manners impeccable.

  Before Jo could answer, Lady Lichfield said in an offhanded way, “Felix, this is Miss Hodges, your intended.”

  Lord Lichfield’s welcoming smile flattened a bit, and he sent his mother a sideways glance. “I have not approved of your scheme of hiring a woman for me to marry, Mother.” He turned back to Jo and added, “Begging your pardon, Miss Hodges.”

  Jo opened her mouth to speak, but Lady Lichfield rode over her with, “She’s perfectly biddable, she comes from wealth, and she will give you the heirs you need.”

  A flush formed on Lord Lichfield’s face. “Perhaps we could discuss such delicate matters in private, Mother.”

  If Jo wasn’t mistaken, he was angry with his mother’s plotting. Which meant he wasn’t a part of it. Which also meant he might cast her off. As uncomfortable as Jo was marrying a diamond thief, she couldn’t help but feel the sting to her pride.

  “There is nothing to discuss,” Lady Lichfield said in a businesslike tone. “The deal is done. You can have the banns read or apply for a special license to wed the girl sooner, if you’re in as much of a hurry to get an heir as you say you are.”

  “I did not say I was in a hurry to get an heir,” Lord Lichfield said to his mother through clenched teeth, looking more embarrassed by the moment. “I said that I would like a family of my own.”

  “Nonsense.” His mother brushed away his statement with a wave of her hand, which turned into pointing at the other settee and ordering him to sit. “You have a family. Me. Now sit and pour yourself some tea.”

  Lord Lichfield stared hard at his mother for so long that Jo began to squirm with discomfort. At last, he blew out a breath and shook his head as though he knew he would lose any argument he started. But rather than sitting, he turned to Jo. “Would you like tea, Miss Hodges?”

  It shouldn’t have, it truly shouldn’t have, but his simple offer shot straight to Jo’s heart. Especially after she had been ignored so soundly and treated as chattel by her mother and his. “Yes, please,” she said in a quiet voice.

  “Do sit down.” He gestured toward the settee where he’d been ordered to sit before reaching for the tea things.

  Jo was so grateful for the chance to sit that she almost didn’t notice the shocked and offended looks her mother and Lady Lichfield had for Lord Lichfield.

  “You are not the hostess here, Felix, I am,” his mother said.

  “And Miss Hodges is our guest,” he said, smiling at Jo when she finally did manage to sit, feeling so tense that she might burst into shards at any moment. “If you have your way, she will be a very special guest.”

  “Really, Felix,” Lady Lichfield said with a sigh and a shake of her head. “You are in no position to lecture me on propriety and morality.”

  Jo nearly fumbled the teacup that Lord Lichfield handed her. Especially as Lord Lichfield seemed cowed by his mother’s statement. He sat, cheeks flushed, and sipped his tea without further comment. Jo glanced between mother and son. Could it be that Lady Lichfield knew her son was a thief? But she must. The woman’s air was too superior for her not to know that her son was guilty.

  “Did you hear about Lady Abernathy’s little mishap last week?” Lady Lichfield asked Jo’s mother.

  “Yes,” her mother replied, eyes going wide at the introduction of gossip. “I don’t know how she can show her face in polite society after that.”

  “She shouldn’t,” Lady Lichfield said.

  The two older women launched into a flurry of gossip as sharp as a knife edge. Jo was too disheartened by the whole thing to pay attention. She sipped her tea in silence, grateful that Lord Lichfield had added just the right amount of sugar.

  She was surprised when, a minute or so after their mothers had lost themselves in gossip, he asked, “Are you enjoying the little season?”

  Jo was glad that she’d already swallowed her tea. She would have choked at the direct address otherwise. “I haven’t been a part of it,” she confessed.

  “Oh?” He frowned. The expression was quite attractive on him. “Whyever not?”

  Jo lowered her head sheepishly, but a moment later, she snapped it up again to meet his eyes. Perhaps if she were honest with him she wouldn’t have to marry a diamond thief after all.

  “I am currently a pupil at Miss Dobson’s Finishing School,” she said.

  Lord Lichfield smiled and began, “Why, that’s right next—” He stopped abruptly, his face going redder. “I have attended events at the house adjoining the school.”

  Yes, you have, Jo thought to herself. And enjoyed them as well.

  Aloud, she said, “We enjoy watching guests of the East India Company coming and going from the house.”

  No sooner were the words out of her mouth when inspiration hit her. She could interrogate Lord Lichfield about the diamond without him knowing he was being questioned.

  “Have you been attending events at the East India Company’s house for long?” she asked before he could say anything else that might sidetrack her.

  He shrugged. “Off and on since Mr. Khan took over the running of the house. It was little more than a secondary office for high-ranking company officials before that.”

  A zip of excitement flashed through Jo. Was that why secret passageways had been built into the house? So that sensitive meetings could be listened in on?

  “And have you befriended any of those high-ranking officials?” Jo asked, scooting a bit closer to him.

  “A few,” Lord Lichfield answered. He sent a cautious glance to his mother, and when he saw that she wasn’t interested in their conversation, he said, “I’ve explored a few investments with the East India Company. Their model of investing does much to limit the exposure to risk that other investing models carry with it.” He paused, a smile spreading across his face. “But I’m certain a fine lady like you has no interest in investments and business.”

  “But I do,” Jo insisted, believing it herself for a moment. “I find it fascinating. What sort of Indian things do you invest in? Tea? Textiles? Leather goods? Diamonds?”

  His expression pinched for a moment, almost as though he flinched. Had she hit a nerve with her mention of diamonds?

  Before she could ask more questions, another surprising revelation was made. Though she was deliberately not paying attention to her mother and Lady Lichfield’s conversation, she suddenly picked up the words, “…which is why I am staying here, at Felix’s house, for the time being.”

  Jo put her teacup down so that she wouldn’t drop it in her excitement. “Is this your house?” she asked Lord Lichfield.

  “It is,” he confirmed with a smile. “Why? Does it not meet with your approval?”

  She had the feeling he was teasing her, but she answered with an honest, “It’s lovely.” Then went on to say, “And do you keep all of your belongings here?”

  He laughed, probably thinking her question was odd. Jo’s mother and his paused their gossip to glare at the two of them. Jo and Lord Lichfield both sent them looks of contrition, but when they returned to their conversation, Lord Lichfield answered, “Everything I keep in London I keep here. Our family has an estate in Norfolk, but I haven’t been back for
years.” He sent his mother a wary look as if in explanation.

  Jo grinned from ear-to-ear, not because he seemed to be taking her into his confidence, but because his confession meant that the Chandramukhi Diamond had to be on the premises. Why, he could have it stuffed in the cushions of the settee without anyone knowing it. She could be seated on the diamond at that moment. She wiggled a little in her seat to see if she could feel it.

  It was, perhaps, the wrong movement to make. Lord Lichfield’s gaze dropped to her hips, then flickered up a bit to her breasts. All at once, Jo had the feeling he was assessing her not as a polite guest for tea, but as a man sizes up a woman who was destined to be in his bed. And heaven help her, the sensations his look raised in her were as tempting as they were wicked.

  “Please excuse me,” she said in a whisper, standing suddenly.

  “Is something wrong?” Lord Lichfield asked, standing with her.

  Jo’s mother let out a groan, as though Jo had upset the entire tea set while calling Lady Lichfield a string of unsightly names.

  Jo bit her lip, then whispered, “I need to retire for a moment. I’ll ask the butler.”

  Before her mother could lecture her on the vulgarity of asking for a chamber pot while in the middle of a formal tea, Jo turned and fled the room. The beauty of her excuse was that no one would follow her and Lord Lichfield’s butler would never be so indelicate as to announce that he’d given Jo directions to where she could relieve herself.

  Which meant that Jo could slip quietly down the hall and around the corner to the servant’s part of the house. If Lord Lichfield did have the diamond at his house, she should be able to find it in a trice. As long as she avoided servants and other householders as she did.

  Avoiding the upstairs maids as they went about their business was easier said than done, however. She made it up to the first floor and managed to peek into a few rooms before she was forced to leap headlong into what looked like an unused guest room until one of the maids passed. The moment she heard the girl’s footsteps fade down the hall, Jo slipped out of the room and began checking every door on the hall.