“Probably not ever. You’re too independent.”
She could tell he was teasing, but she was serious when she said, “The only way I would wed a man is if there were a signed contract that stipulates my intended can’t tell me what to do, or touch my money. It would be a rare man who would agree to that.”
“True, darling daughter, but you would be surprised what a man will do for love.”
He smiled wistfully, making Vanessa wonder if he was thinking of her mother. He’d loved Kathleen, Countess of Dawton, enough to defer to her wishes and live in her home instead of moving her into his. He hadn’t made the concession because her father’s title, Marquis of Dawton, was more lofty than his. He was the Earl of Ketterham, after all, and richer than his wife.
“And you’re an exceptional young woman, well educated and a natural at handling horses and pistols,” he added proudly. “You also know I was only teasing with that ‘probably not ever.’ When you fall in love—and I wouldn’t want you to marry without it—I don’t doubt the man will agree to anything just to have you by his side. But I’ve prepared you for more than the circumscribed life of a lady. I wish I could have done the same for your sisters, but your mother refused to budge when it came to the social rules she herself was raised by. Now that you’ve come of age, you have a substantial income, enough money to start that horse-breeding stable you’ve always dreamed of, though that will be much easier after you marry. So reunite with your mother and sisters and go with them to London to break a few hearts first.”
She laughed. Her father made it seem as if all her dreams could come true. While she still had her doubts, she couldn’t deny it might be fun to be twirled around a ballroom by a few dashing lords. And once she reentered fashionable society she would undoubtedly cross paths with the Rathbans. She had to figure out a way to make them end the vendetta against her father so he could go home, too.
When they reached the shore, they stopped short, staring at the pieces of the rowboat scattered about. Vanessa started to laugh. William soon joined her.
“It was old, it was bound to happen eventually,” he said.
“I’m glad it succumbed. I would have worried about you taking it out by yourself. Promise you won’t replace it, at least not until I come to visit.”
“If you’ll promise you won’t cry when you leave.”
“I don’t cry,” she said, but added with a grin, “What do I look like, a girl?”
Chapter Two
CARLTON HOUSE, THE PRINCE Regent’s London residence, was as large and opulent as a palace. Montgomery Townsend followed his usual path into the grand mansion, through the foyer and into the well-lit two-story entrance hall decorated with marble columns. Beyond that hall was an octagonal room flanked on one side by the grand staircase and on the other by a courtyard. Besides the magnificent French decor and furniture, Carlton House boasted a superb collection of artworks, most of which were displayed in George’s private rooms.
Continuing straight ahead, he entered the main anteroom, where many of the Regent’s cronies were clustered, waiting for George to make an appearance, if he deigned to. The door on the left, which led to the Regent’s private rooms, was closed.
Montgomery approached a man he recognized whose name he thought was Henry, but he wasn’t sure and couldn’t be bothered to make sure. He didn’t like this group of toadies and didn’t pretend to. The only reason they were here was to share in the Regent’s extravagances and dissipated lifestyle. But they could still supply useful information.
“What is the mood today?” he asked the fellow. “Money, women, or politics?”
“Prinny isn’t saying. He did ask for you, though. You do seem to be his favorite savior.”
The jealous tone was noted. Montgomery didn’t doubt every man in the anteroom wished to be in his position. Did they even consider that failure could lead to an immediate ousting? George could be that fickle. And where would they be without the Prince Regent’s favor? Back with their families or wives or running again from their debtors. The difference between him and them was he didn’t care if he was ousted from the Prince’s inner circle, though the bigger difference was that he wasn’t there with ulterior motives and needed no favor from the future king.
He liked living on the edge. He could blame his brief stint in the army he supposed. But lately the danger was getting out of hand, with thugs breaking into his rooms and chasing him down the streets brandishing axes. Lord Chanders didn’t have the nerve to challenge him to a duel, Lord Halstead was all too eager to, yet he hadn’t done anything to provoke either man, although he’d led them to think so. That was the point, after all. He wasn’t fed up yet with being the Regent’s personal scapegoat, but shifting Prinny’s scandals onto his own shoulders came with a steep price that tarnished his reputation.
Still, Montgomery viewed his clandestine royal service as another way of serving his country now that he was off the battlefield. It was exhilarating. And there wasn’t much difference between dealing with his own scandals or those handed to him by George. Dodging bullets on the front lines did something to a man, catching bullets and surviving could have turned him toward a more cautious way of life, but it didn’t. The second bullet that had struck him had sent him home to recover for six months, and his father made him promise not to return to the Peninsular War where he’d been stationed or anywhere else on the continent where British troops were advancing or defending. That was two years ago. But his father couldn’t get him to promise to stop courting scandal.
He’d enjoyed a new woman every week, losing interest before any one of them could be called his mistress. But he’d developed a reputation for being something of a rake, which was what had led George to him. George admired prowess of all sorts, including the less valiant kind. But at least Montgomery steered clear of married women. He wished George would do the same. It wasn’t as if the Prince didn’t have a number of longtime mistresses he could visit instead.
Montgomery moved to the Regent’s door, knocked once, and entered without waiting for a response. “George?”
It had been established that formalities weren’t his forte the very night they were introduced with Montgomery saying, “Pleasure to meet you, George. You can call me Monty.” Granted, he’d been a little foxed at the time or he might have thought better of insulting the Prince Regent with anything less than “Highness.”
But while a number of gasps were heard that night and someone would have gotten around to admonishing him as soon as the shock wore off, the Prince Regent had laughed and said, “I think we’ll be friends, Monty.”
And so they were, after a fashion. Montgomery didn’t join George’s entourage and follow him around like that group in the anteroom, but he did come when summoned. He’d come the first time because he was curious, but all George had wanted was a private game of chess with him and someone new to talk to about his love of art, his excitement that he was working with John Nash to redesign and grandly extend his Brighton Pavilion, where he took his holidays by the sea, and his worry that a scandal might be descending on his head over a foolish mistake he’d made in dallying with the wrong woman.
Montgomery had been amused. Scandals didn’t worry him, but obviously a royal couldn’t be so cavalier when the entire country kept their eyes on him, and those who advised him on all matters social and political would be outraged. He’d decided that night to fix the problem that was worrying the Regent if he could, and he did. But the first time he got George out of a pickle, as it were, without being asked to, had established a precedent. George started asking for discreet favors after that, and the man was getting himself into one pickle after another.
“In here!”
Montgomery followed the voice to the lavish drawing room. George was in the large, well-padded chair he favored, however he was too wide of girth for it and would probably have trouble getting out of it on his own. That might be why there were two footmen standing nearby whom George dismissed as Montgomery
approached.
The Prince Regent was aging badly. Only in his early fifties, he had too many vices he didn’t try to curb. A bottle of laudanum stood on the table beside him, along with a decanter of brandy and a basket of pastries more than half-empty.
Even though it was the middle of the day, George wasn’t dressed to leave his rooms, merely wearing trousers and a white linen shirt. Even his feet were bare. While the Prince of Wales had ended his long friendship with Beau Brummell when he became Prince Regent after his father’s madness took a turn for the worse, he still favored the long trousers that Brummell had single-handedly made fashionable.
Bets had actually been made that George would return to the knee-length britches and stockings of the last decades because of that rift, but he didn’t. He’d confided to Montgomery that he’d been forced to cut all ties with his old Whig friends, including Brummell, when he became Regent four years ago. Just one of the trials and tribulations of being the Prince Regent.
“I received your summons, George,” Montgomery said as he took a seat on the sofa.
“That was three days ago, you’re late,” George complained, though mildly.
“Your servant might not have been able to find me in a timely manner. I’ve been hiding rather unsuccessfully from the last lord you cuckolded. Chanders sent thugs after me, the bloody sod. Not to mention, Lord Halstead continues to send me challenges to a duel, four of them to date.”
“So just duel with the chap already. You were in the army. You ought to be an excellent shot.”
“I am, which is why I won’t duel.” It was stated flatly but with absolute conviction.
“You prefer to be labeled a coward?”
“I prefer not to kill a man just because I’m accepting blame that’s not rightfully mine.”
Montgomery was well aware that statement could be considered an insult to the Prince, but George merely raised a brow at him before reaching for another pastry.
“Did you find somewhere else to hide?”
“I’m staying at my father’s town house for a few days until I can find another flat. Those thugs won’t try breaking into a house filled with servants. But unfortunately, one of my brothers is also in residence, in town this week on business. And he’s heard the rumors that I’m cavorting with married women. I believe he sent for my father, but I expect to be out of there before the earl arrives to berate me.”
“I knew your father in my youth. Liked him then, don’t want to be yelled at by him now. I hope you said nothing to your brother.”
“Of course not. I don’t mind the yelling.”
George laughed. But Montgomery wasn’t having a pleasant reunion with his brother, whom he hadn’t seen since the last time he’d gone home to visit his parents last year. And with the point being to save George from a scandal by turning it on himself, he didn’t want to tell even his favorite brother, Andrew, about it. His family wouldn’t condone what he’d gotten himself into, even for the sake of the next king of England. So he’d had to listen to Andrew’s long diatribe about what he ought not to be doing in London.
“You know, George, this sudden fancy you’ve taken to married women is turning into a bad habit, don’t you think? It’s not as if there aren’t hundreds of attractive unmarried women, even young ones, who would swoon in delight to share a royal’s bed. You do realize, don’t you, that a woman can’t keep a secret? She may say she will, but she rarely does. And a dalliance with the next king of England is too big a secret not to brag about to her friends. From there it goes everywhere, eventually to her husband. On the other hand, no one begrudges you a mistress or two when you are estranged from your wife, they just insist the lady not be encumbered with a husband.”
“I am well aware of social, royal, and political protocol. As I said before, it was a mistake, that first time. There have actually been only a few women I’ve been smitten with over the years who were already taken. I have resisted all these years pursuing them, but then I saw Lady Chanders recently and was quite overcome with temptation. I thought that would be my only faux pas, but I think you might have enabled me by cleaning up the aftermath of that delightful affair.”
Montgomery laughed. “So it’s my fault?”
“No, no, it was simply my taking advantage of your kind and brilliant resolution to the problem, for which I do apologize and promise there will be no more after this,” George said, and tossed a note to the sofa where Montgomery was sitting. “And now that you’ll be out of town for a while—”
Montgomery cut in. “I will?”
“Won’t you? At least until Lord Chanders stops sending thugs after you? It’s not as if you are socially active in this town and will miss anything of note. By the by, why is that? By choice?”
“Indeed by choice,” Montgomery replied. “The only women at these events are chaperones, debutantes, and wives. Not my cup of tea.”
“Yet you were at Lady Mitchell’s soiree when we met,” George reminded him.
“A rare happenstance. She’s my eldest brother, Weston’s, mother-in-law. It was coercion at its best. She wouldn’t leave my bloody flat until I agreed to make an appearance at her party.”
“Well, you are a prime specimen, dear boy. The only one of three brothers who hasn’t been leg-shackled—strapping and with a face to make the ladies swoon pleasantly—you are a hostess’s dream come true, I would imagine.”
Montgomery grinned. “I prefer to remain my father’s bane. He got the rest of his brood married off. He’s bound to give up on me eventually.”
Montgomery hadn’t yet picked up the note that had been tossed to him, but George was now staring at it pointedly. Recalling the Prince’s promise that there would be no more indiscretions with married women after this, he didn’t need to be brilliant at deduction to know what was coming.
“Lady Tyler will be at that address tonight with some of her friends,” George said, nodding at the note. “If you should happen to make it obvious that you’re the object of her interest, it will get back to her husband. Problem solved. He was overheard accusing her of infidelity, demanding to know the culprit’s name, and several of her servants saw me calling on her a few days ago. So the scandal will soon be upon me if not deflected elsewhere.”
“So once again you want me to take the proverbial bullet for you?”
George wouldn’t say yes—he never explicitly requested these favors. Instead, he stated facts. “Lord Tyler has the temperament of a lunatic, he doesn’t care that he’ll be tossed in prison if he comes here to kill the next king of England. You’ll be saving his life by turning his suspicions on you instead. And I’ll be saving your life by getting you out of town for a few months. I’d already arranged it when I heard about that ridiculous race through the streets with a band of ax wielders. I found you a secluded estate where even your family won’t find you—in case you are worried about your father’s imminent arrival. I had an immediate reply from the lady of the house that you will be welcome in her home for as long as you like. A stint in the country will do you good, don’t you think? At the very least, you can stop worrying about Chanders sending the dregs after you.”
Montgomery picked up the note with two addresses on it, one in town, one in the country. “Who will my hostess be in the country?”
“Countess of Dawton.”
“A widow I hope?”
“No, but she might be lonely, since her husband has been in the West Indies for so many years it’s being assumed he prefers the climate there. But she may be a little old for you.”
Montgomery was amused, since all of George’s ladies had been old enough to be his mother. But seeking confirmation, he asked, “And this will be the last time?”
“That I trespass where I ought not? Yes. But I do have a greater favor to ask of you, one of national importance that lines up well with your own departure from London. Considering secrecy will be involved and patience will be needed, well, let’s just say for your service to the future crown, I will be
giving you a parcel of land that currently has twelve rented cottages on it and a small manor house available for your use. The documents will be delivered after the scandals have subsided and the favor is completed.”
“I never asked you for anything, George,” Montgomery reminded him.
“I know, that’s why I’m being generous. Don’t think for a moment, Monty, that I’m not immensely grateful for your handy solutions to my waywardness. But there may be more danger than dealing with irate husbands involved with my final request. The package that will be under your sole charge and protection has become quite a nuisance, at least to me. He seems to think because we are both from esteemed bloodlines that we should be best of chums. He won’t feel that way about you. In fact, I warrant he’ll be suitably afraid of you.”
“Why would he be?”
“Because I’ve quite embellished your credentials. Needed to make him feel he would be safe with you, after all. He will be, won’t he?”
The Prince sounded worried, which made Montgomery ask, “Who exactly is this package, and why do I get the feeling someone wants him dead?”
“Because there are factions that do, even my own detractors would like to see me embarrassed by his demise because I offered him my protection. But Carlton House is too open to visitors, all of the royal residences are. It was a mistake to try to keep him here.”
“A squadron of your royal guards couldn’t keep him safe?”
“Too obvious and just what his enemies are expecting. Better that he be hidden away for a while—like you.”
George was taking it for granted that he would agree to this request. Maybe he would. It was something new, possibly interesting, possibly dangerous. And while he hadn’t thought of leaving town to escape the repercussions of the scandals, this would save him from having to look for a new residence. It would also get him out of town before his father arrived.
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