Cassie gasped, too shocked to hide her dismay from the watchful servant. Not that he revealed any surprise by her reaction. He looked as if the house could fall about his ears without his blinking a well-trained eye.
“Tell them I ... I am not receiving guests this afternoon,” she stammered, her heart lodged directly in the middle of her throat.
“Very well, my lady.” The butler bowed his gray head and smoothly left the room.
Unconsciously twisting the thin fabric of her jade gown, Cassie carefully listened for the sound of retreating footsteps. How on earth had Lord Mumford traced her to this house? Surely she hadn’t mentioned where she lived? No, of course she hadn’t, she reassured herself. The only way he could possibly have located her was if he had followed her from the park.
The devil take the persistent man, she silently fumed.
“Stand aside. I have most urgent business.” The unmistakable sound of Lord Bidwell’s voice floated through the open door, making Cassie stiffen with dread.
“But, my lord—”
The butler’s low words were drowned out by the sound of determined footsteps, and before she could think to hide behind the heavy curtains, Lord Bidwell had swept into the room, closely followed by the disturbing Lord Mumford.
“Ah, Lady Greer, what a charming picture you present.” Lord Bidwell performed a sweeping bow, his brown eyes glinting at the sight of her rigid form standing in the center of the room.
Deeply regretting the fact she did not have a pistol handy, Cassie was forced to display at least a semblance of courtesy.
“Lord Bidwell,” she retorted stiffly, then, turning, she flashed the raven-haired earl an equally icy glance. “Lord Mumford.”
Undaunted by her overt lack of welcome, Lord Bidwell grinned in an impudent manner.
“Frightfully sorry to inconvenience you, and all that,” he said, “but after you left the park, I noted that you had dropped your fan.”
She couldn’t hide her start of surprise. “My fan?”
“Indeed, my dear.” Moving forward, the tiny man held out the fragile bit of lace. “You really must keep a closer grip on your delightful fallals.”
Closer grip indeed, she silently fumed. The man had clearly stolen the fan while she was being distracted by his annoying companion. Reaching out her hand, Cassie snatched the fan and eyed her guest with open suspicion.
“So I am beginning to realize.”
“It would be a shame to lose such a lovely object.”
Wondering if the tiny man would be smiling so smugly if she decided to whack the pointed nose with her lovely object, Cassie was distracted by the discreet cough of her butler.
“Shall I have tea served, my lady?”
“No, thank you, Tolson,” Cassie stated emphatically, only to be outmaneuvered by the flamboyantly attired gentleman.
“Superb suggestion, Tolson. Quite brilliant,” he rattled loudly, actually moving across the room to steer the reluctant butler out into the hall. “Now toddle off, good man, toddle off.” Reaching forward, Lord Bidwell firmly shut the door in the butler’s face, turning to beam in a pleased fashion at the furious Cassie. “Wonderful chap.”
“Really, Lord Bidwell,” Cassie retorted between clenched teeth, “this is most awkward—”
“I would adore to stay and chat, but I fear that I must see to my mount. He appeared to have the slightest limp just as we arrived. Quite distressing, I must say. I shall have Tatt’s head on a platter if he sold me a nag. A bientôt, my lady.”
With the briefest bow, the unpredictable man abruptly turned and disappeared through the French windows that had been left open to catch the faint breeze. Thoroughly unhinged by the extraordinary encounter, Cassie reluctantly turned to meet the brilliant blue gaze, refusing to acknowledge the sudden leap of her heart as anything but common annoyance.
This man had no right to burst into her home in such a fashion. And he certainly had no right to be glancing over her diaphanous gown in such a thorough fashion. Deciding that it was time to take matters into her own hands, she determinedly squared her shoulders.
“I presume you have some reason for following me, Lord Mumford?” she demanded in blunt tones, her expression revealing her ill humor at his antics.
He smiled in a slow, utterly unrepentant manner. “First, allow me to apologize for my flamboyant companion. He can be rather . . . persistent when he chooses.”
“I would say he can be utterly devious.”
“Perhaps, but only with the best of intentions.”
“Such as forcing his way into my home?”
The smile only widened. “Come, Lady Greer, Biddles did not precisely force his way into your home. He merely ensured that I was allowed a few moments to speak with you in private.”
Oddly disturbed by the knowledge they were indeed alone, Cassie determinedly held on to her icy displeasure.
“I cannot imagine why you would wish to speak with me in private.”
He arched a dark brow at her tart remark. “But surely you realized your . . . appearance today in the park was bound to create interest. I assumed you would be delighted by my obvious interest in your charms.”
It took a moment for Cassie to fully realize the import of his smooth words; then a painful blush rose to her cheeks. Somehow it had never entered her woolly head that her disguise would lead to such complications. After all, she had never been bothered by unwelcome suitors when she was tramping about her Devonshire estate in shabby gowns and her hair in tangles. And even now she could only wonder if the Irresistible Earl wasn’t foxed. Why else would he pursue her when he could have his choice of the most celebrated courtesans?
Whatever the reason, it was clear she would have to do some swift thinking if she were to avoid further difficulties.
“Actually, I went to the park to . . . to meet an acquaintance.”
“Acquaintance?”
“Yes.”
Folding his arms across his wide chest, Lord Mumford regarded her with uncanny intensity.
“And who is this mysterious acquaintance?”
She wanted to inform him that it was none of his bloody business, but something in the handsome features warned her that this was not a man easily cast aside. She had no doubt aroused his curiosity by her obvious lack of enthusiasm for his exalted presence. After all, a courtesan was dependent on such men to maintain her establishment. It was imperative that she cast aside her shrewish temper and play her role in a more convincing manner if she did not wish the charade to be exposed.
“It would hardly be prudent to discuss my private... connections,” she retorted, hoping that the late afternoon shadows were hiding her painful embarrassment at uttering the suggestive words.
The blue gaze abruptly narrowed. “You mean to say that your charms are already engaged?”
“I ... yes.”
“What a pity,” he murmured, slowly moving forward to regard her heated cheeks with a piercing intensity. “I find you quite intriguing, Lady Greer.”
Unnerved by his sudden proximity, Cassie took a swift step backward, nearly tumbling over a hideous lacquer table that matched the rest of the cheap Chinese furnishings.
“I fail to see why, my lord. I am most unremarkable.”
“Unremarkable? Come, come, my dear, there is no need for such modesty. You are a beautiful woman. Beautiful enough to expect a companion that will ensure you are properly taken care of.” He cast a critical glance around the shabby room, clearly unimpressed by the vulgar decor. “Something your current connection appears incapable of providing.”
“I assure you I am quite comfortable.”
“But why settle for comfort when I would be quite willing to provide all the luxuries a woman such as yourself desires?”
She eyed him in a wary manner, certain that he must be a bit beetle-headed. What other reason could there be for his annoying persistence?
“I have all the luxuries that I require, my lord. Indeed, there is nothing that y
ou could possible offer me that could sway my affections.”
“Really?” An enigmatic smile suddenly curved his full lips. “I admire your loyalty, Lady Greer, but I must warn you that I am not a man who can readily admit defeat. Indeed, there is nothing that I enjoy more than a sporting challenge.”
Opening her mouth to inform him that she was not some prize to be won or lost, Cassie was distracted by the entrance of the butler carrying a large tray of tea. Indeed, the tray was so large Cassie could only wonder if the cook had been told that half of London had arrived for tea rather than one slender earl.
“Tea is served, my lady,” the butler unnecessarily announced, placing the tray on a low table.
Nearly stamping her foot in frustration, Cassie was forced to meet the amused blue gaze with a semblance of dignified composure. How did one politely offer tea to a gentleman who had just offered her a most improper proposition?
“Would you care for tea, my lord?”
He laughed softly at the stiff words, seeming to find a great deal of amusement in the ridiculous situation.
“As much as I long to stay and further our acquaintance, my lady, I fear I must be off.”
Cassie didn’t bother to hide her relief. “I see.”
“You should, however, warn your secret benefactor.”
“Warn?”
“Tell him that I have fallen victim to your persuasive charms,” he smoothly murmured, his expression making her heart skip a beat, “and that I will allow nothing to stand in the way of making you mine.”
Grasping her hand before she could gauge his intent, Lord Mumford raised her fingers to his warm lips, then outrageously turned over her arm to lightly kiss the tender skin of her delicate wrist. Cassie gasped as an unfamiliar tingle raced through her blood, making her knees decidedly weak and her head spin in a most unnerving fashion. Then, with an elegant bow the raven-haired man was swiftly crossing out of the room and disappearing down the hall.
Absently rubbing her wrist, Cassie listened as the front door closed and the sound of horses clattered down the cobbled street. Really, the man was clearly a scoundrel. Disdaining eligible young ladies that sought to attract his attention and then ruthlessly pursuing women of easy virtue that he could dismiss at will. She should be taking great pleasure in the knowledge that she was in a position to prove that his wicked charm was far from irresistible. But instead, a shiver of fear raced down her spine.
She had the most unpleasant premonition that Lord Mumford was a danger to more than her charade.
* * *
“Well?” Vaulting onto his restless mount, Luke regarded his friend in an expectant manner.
Urging his own horse down the street, Biddles lifted a puzzled brow. “Well, what?”
Swiftly catching up to the brisk pace, Luke heaved an exasperated sigh. “Really, Biddles, I know very well there was nothing wrong with your precious bay. I presume you took the opportunity to find out a bit of information on the tantalizing Lady Greer.”
“Perhaps.”
“Are you going to tell me, or do I have to put you to the rack?”
“I say, Luke, you are in a bit of a twit over this pampian,” Biddles retorted, a speculative gleam in his eye. “Are you quite certain it would not be best to put your oar in less dangerous waters?”
Luke smiled in a wry manner. No doubt his companion was right. He had indeed developed a most uncommon fascination with the alluring Lady Greer. A fascination that had only deepened during the enticing encounter. But while prudence urged him to flee while he was able to do so, he knew quite well he would do no such thing.
“My oar is perfectly fine where it is. Now, did you discover any interesting information or not?”
“Naturally. Have I ever failed you, my most beloved friend?”
“You did leave me waiting in a drafty barn while you delighted yourself with a French countess,” Luke reminded his companion in dry tones.
“Are you still digging up that old bone?” Biddles sighed in a mournful manner. “If you will recall, I managed to convince the French countess to smuggle several English prisoners through her estate. Not to mention receiving several cases of fine brandy to warm our cold nights.”
“And nearly got us both sent to the guillotine when the count returned home to find you in his bed.”
Biddles laughed with obvious enjoyment. “Ah ... what a fine chase that was. Lucky for us the count never considered searching the convent for two English soldiers.”
“Yes, there is nothing quite as delightful as fleeing from a cuckolded husband, but you still have not told me what you have learned.”
“Oh, very well, Mumford,” Biddles relented. “I happened to pick up several intriguing details from the downstairs maid who was just leaving for the market. She said that Lady Greer rented the house three days ago and arrived with her housekeeper and several gowns recently purchased from a well-known modiste.”
“Was that all?”
“No. She also claims that both Lady Greer and her housekeeper appear to have a peculiar interest in finding a woman named Nell.”
Luke arched a brow in puzzlement. “Nell?”
“That was all they seemed to know about the woman, except that she used to be on the stage.”
“A relative?” Luke pondered aloud. “Or perhaps a friend of the family?”
Biddles shrugged. “I haven’t the least notion.”
“And what about any callers? Does she have any acquaintances in London?”
“You mean gentlemen acquaintances?”
Luke cast his companion a sour glance. “Yes.”
“There are none. Which, of course, is a source of avid curiosity throughout the neighborhood,” Biddles retorted. “As a rule, these houses are rented by gentlemen who plan to devote at least a portion of their time with the young ladies within. Lady Greer, however, appears to have mysteriously received an establishment with none of the inconvenience of entertaining her protector.”
Ridiculously, Luke experienced a flare of sheer relief. Of course, it was nothing more than gratitude that he hadn’t completely lost his ability to judge others, he reassured himself. No man liked to think he could be culled so easily.
Whatever the reason, he couldn’t deny the fierce surge of pleasure to learn that Lady Greer was no common courtesan and that her affections were not nearly so engaged as she had implied.
“So she has no obvious benefactor, and she quite determinedly put paid to my suggestion that I support her in a manner that most women in her position would leap at.” Luke narrowed his brilliant eyes to narrow slits. “It would be my deduction that the young woman is not quite what she seems.”
As they entered the more reputable part of town, the traffic thickened, and both men were forced to slow their pace to a mere walk. Moving his mount closer, Biddles ensured that they could not be overheard by passing riders.
“Indeed. But what possible reason could a young lady of quality have to risk her reputation in such a daring manner?”
“That is what we have to discover,” Luke said, his mind already leaping to the next plan of action. “As well as her connection to this unknown Nell.”
Biddles sent him a dry glance. “For once, I fear it will take more than your irresistible charm to convince the young lady to confide her secrets. She appears remarkably stubborn for such a tiny thing.”
Stubborn, spirited and quite bewitching, Luke inwardly acknowledged.
“Then we shall have to depend upon our rather dubious talents and find the truth without the aid of Lady Greer,” Luke announced.
“And pray, how do you propose to accomplish that?”
“We shall attend the theater, Biddles.”
“Pardon me?”
Luke smiled, recalling the sensation of the fluttering pulse as he had brushed his lips against the velvet smooth skin of her inner wrist.
“You said that all Lady Greer knows of this Nell is her name and the fact she was once on the stage. The next log
ical step would be to seek information from her former acquaintances. When she arrives, I shall be there waiting.”
Four
The crisp morning sunlight did little to improve the dingy theater. Standing on the trash-littered street, Cassie felt her heart sink another notch. This was the fifth theater she had visited in the past three days, each one more disreputable than the last. Clearly, the sudden rush of theaters that had opened in the past few years had not improved the standards of the stage. Indeed, it was clear that most owners were more concerned with greed than art.
Of course, she told herself with a grimace, she had already managed to discern that few of the women who called themselves actresses actually made their livelihood in the theater. Instead, they used their time upon the stage in the hope of attracting a wealthy benefactor. A shocking notion for a gently bred lady. Although, after the past weeks, Cassie was becoming less easily shocked.
After putting aside her natural prejudice, she had discovered that the women she met on the streets each day were not the horrid, grasping doxies she had presumed would inhabit such a location in London, but women like herself, attempting to make their way through the world with no one to depend upon except themselves. That thought had disturbed her more over the past few days than what occurred within their rented homes.
With an effort, Cassie forced her thoughts back to the narrow street. This was no neighborhood in which to be lost in daydreams. Even by London standards, it was dangerous.
Squaring her shoulders, Cassie marched toward the half-opened door, only to jump hastily backward as it was flung open and a servant stomped out to empty a bucket of filthy water onto the street. Cassie discovered herself hesitating at the notion of approaching the stranger. Even with her foolish amount of courage, she felt uneasy.
The man was uncommonly large, with a thick chest and arms usually only seen on a blacksmith. His clothing was rough, and the stale smell of gin overshadowed even the rotting trash. Hardly the sort of man she wished to attract the attention of, but Cassie was becoming desperate. With every passing day, the hopes of retrieving her home and inheritance grew a bit dimmer. Now she forced herself to nervously clear her throat.
Lord Mumford's Minx Page 4