The Infamous Rakes

by Amanda Scott

  She smiled. “The prospect does not precisely recommend itself, I confess. Not so much about Lord Crawley, but about London. Will I be a success only because of my fortune?”

  “I no doubt sound like a cad to say so,” he said, “but in fact you might have three warts hanging off the end of your nose, and with such a fortune as I suspect you are describing, you would still be proclaimed the prize of the Season.”

  “Dear me. And Lord Crawley will lead the pack?”

  He nodded. “He is suffering the pangs of an unrequited love at the moment. He fell top over tail for Gwendolyn, Lady Darcy, a widow of excellent figure and enormous fortune. But of late it appears that she might cast her handkerchief in quite another direction, leaving Crawley to face his bankers and the bailiffs.”

  “Has he no family to assist him?”

  “Only his mother and a pretty sister desirous of making her come-out this year. His father died last year, leaving him acres of encumbered estates and little with which to support them. His attempts to fund himself at the gaming tables have met with so little success that he decided to marry an heiress instead.”

  She chuckled. “He seems nicer than that.”

  “He is. He was one of my best friends at school, a truly stout fellow who took up the cudgels more than once on my behalf. You might not think it to see me now, but I was small for my age as a child, and since my father thought I’d do better not to be coddled, I often found myself in the briars. I grew, as you see, and learned to defend myself, but in the meantime there were some unpleasant moments. Other than Corbin, there’s no one I’d rather have in a tight corner with me, even now, than Crawley.”

  Though Gillian could not imagine the dandified Corbin in a tight corner with anyone, she saw no reason to say so, and found herself feeling very cordial toward Thorne’s friends. She encouraged him to tell her more about his school days, and he did so, but since the tales were generally comical, with himself as the butt, she learned nothing more of note about him or his friends before they reached Carnaby Park.

  She sent word at once to Mrs. Heathby, the housekeeper, that there would be three more gentlemen at the table, and then took her guests to the drawing room to present them to Lady Marrick.

  To her surprise, Estrid expressed great pleasure at learning that they were to dine at Carnaby, welcoming Dawlish, Corbin, and Crawley as if she were truly delighted to meet them. Gillian discovered the reason when everyone gathered in the saloon before dinner and Dorinda appeared last of all, wearing a pink muslin Etruscan robe trimmed with white satin ribbon and brown cord, which was far more appropriate for a London ball than a country dining table. The gown was extremely becoming to Dorinda, however, and its very low white satin bodice, trimmed with delicate lace, drew the eye directly to her plump bosom.

  Gillian had changed into a gown she often wore, of white sarcenet trimmed with coquelicot velvet. It was becoming, but she knew that Dorinda, with her rosy complexion, deep blue eyes, and golden curls, quite cast her into the shade. She could see as much from the gentlemen’s expressions. Thorne’s eyes had widened noticeably, and the apparently unflappable Corbin stood like a post with his mouth hanging open. Dawlish had instantly raised his quizzing glass, and Crawley made a profound leg.

  Corbin murmured, “Magnificent. Why did no one tell us?”

  Lady Marrick chuckled. “Dorinda is as pretty as a princess, is she not? My sweet, allow me to present you to lords Dawlish, Crawley, and Corbin. My daughter, Miss Ponderby, gentlemen.”

  Dorinda made her curtsy, peeping up at the men from beneath her lashes in a manner that made her stepsister yearn to slap her, but Gillian knew the gentlemen would find no fault.

  Before Dorinda’s entrance, Crawley had been looking around the saloon with visible appreciation, and so Gillian, remembering what Thorne had told her about his friend, was not surprised now when Crawley stepped forward first to greet Dorinda.

  “We have been told, Miss Ponderby, that you are soon to travel to London. May I presume to ask how soon that will be?”

  Smiling, Dorinda rose and said, “Very soon, sir. I believe we depart within the week.”

  “Then we must certainly hurry back to London,” he said.

  “Good gracious, why, sir?”

  “Why, so as to be first in line on your doorstep when you arrive,” he replied, twinkling. “It would not do to let any of the others be before us, would it?”

  Dorinda blushed adorably, and Lady Marrick said, “Don’t be putting ideas into her head, if you please. Not that they won’t be beating down our door, for they will, but here is Marrick now, so I daresay they will be announcing dinner any minute.”

  The evening passed pleasantly, for Dorinda, basking in the light of approval, was on her best behavior, and the gentlemen were witty and delightful company. Gillian enjoyed herself and when she discovered that the men had not been joking about their intent to return at once, and that Thorne meant to go with them, she realized she was going to miss them. She looked forward more than she had expected to the forthcoming journey to London.

  7

  NEARLY A FORTNIGHT LATER, AFTER a long and tedious journey, the family arrived in London in the midst of a rainstorm, and Lady Marrick’s first comments regarding Vellacott House in Park Street, Mayfair, were caustic ones.

  “This is it? Good gracious, my lord, it is no more than fifty feet wide, and the entrance not the least bit impressive! I thought you had told me the house was designed by Robert Adam, but I know for a fact that his style is still very much admired by fashionable people.”

  Due to the rain that had begun to pelt down upon them as they crossed the river Thames at Staines, Marrick had for the last several hours been crowded with three women, a child, and a small terrier into a traveling carriage meant to carry no more than four persons, and he was not in a charitable mood. Shifting Clementina on his lap and looking out to see what was keeping the footman, he said sharply, “This is certainly Vellacott House, madam. It may be only fifty feet wide, but I assure you it is at least two hundred feet from front to back, and as to who built it, I can tell you that my father-in-law hired only the best people, whoever they were. The inside is better, I promise you.”

  Gillian said calmly, “Indeed it is, ma’am, for my mother once told me that Mr. Adam always favored a modest exterior so as to achieve more of an impact on the visitor with the inside. Grandfather Vellacott used to say that Vellacott House reminded him of a French hotel, which is what the French nobles call their mansions, you know. He had seen many of them on his Grand Tour, and he told Mr. Adam he was determined to achieve the same sequence of grand apartments that the French admired. I have not been here in some years, but I remember the house is magnificent. Good heavens,” she added, peering through the rain at the figure coming down the wide, shallow steps with a large black umbrella held above his head to meet them, “is that one of our footmen? His wig is on crooked. I do wish you had let Hollingston see to the hiring of the servants here, Estrid. I don’t think that man looks at all suitable. His livery is too tight too.”

  Estrid sniffed. “I’ll thank you to keep your nose out of my affairs, miss. I wrote to tell the caretaker that we should be here today and told him to find at least one footman to wait on us until I could see to the hiring of our other servants. We shall need a new governess for Clementina too,” she added, “since the last one never returned from visiting her mama.”

  “Good God, madam!” Marrick exclaimed, avoiding Gillian’s steady gaze. “Do you mean to tell me we have no servants here?”

  “I mean no such thing,” she said tartly. “We have brought a number of our own with us from the Park, have we not, sir? As to a butler and a housekeeper, I am sure the people who have been looking after the house can do that well enough, so you needn’t fly into a pelter. I shall see to all the rest tomorrow.”

  “I shall dine at my club,” Marrick said with a growl.

  “You must do as you like, of course,” Lady Marrick said. />
  Gillian understood her father’s dismay, and wished she had made an effort to see to the business of the servants herself. Not that she would have had to do anything more than tell Hollingston to attend to it, but for some reason Estrid had an aversion to telling the steward to do anything whatever.

  The footman held his open umbrella over the earl and Lady Marrick, and everyone else followed as best they could, laughing when the rain struck them, shrieking when cold droplets slithered down inside their clothing. Inside, Gillian nearly ran full tilt into her stepmother, who had stopped to gaze about her.

  “This is more the thing, certainly,” her ladyship said.

  From black-and-white marble floor to vaulted ceiling, the large square hall was arranged in a gold-and-white pattern of advancing and receding surfaces, of columns, pilasters, alcoves, and niches. Classical coolness underscored the opulent splendor for which Adam was justly famous, and Estrid was impressed.

  “Where are our rooms, my love?” she asked Marrick.

  “My dressing room and cabinet are beyond that stair hall before you,” he said. “Dining room, then the library and my rooms. A private stair from my dressing room leads to our bedchamber on the next floor. Your dressing room is off that, and there are three drawing rooms there as well. Down here, through the anteroom beyond the two marble columns, you will find a parlor and a small terrace garden. A larger garden lies at the rear, beyond the stables.”

  “And the girls’ rooms?”

  “The floor above ours. Servants’ rooms above that.”

  She nodded. “I shall look over the whole house tomorrow. Today we must get settled, however, for I daresay the knocker will begin to clatter just as soon as anyone learns we are in town. The marquess, at least, knows precisely when to expect us.” She turned to the waiting footman. “Mrs. Parish is expecting to serve our dinner this evening, is she not?”

  “Aye, mum, but it ain’t what Aunt Sairie be accustomed to, she says, and she don’t be willing to do it but the one, mebbe two nights, is all.”

  Gillian said, “What is your name, please?”

  “I be Alfred, an’ it please ye, miss.”

  “I am to be addressed as your ladyship, as is Lady Marrick.” She gestured toward the others. “This is Miss Ponderby, and this is Miss Clementina. Please see that you remember their names.”

  “Aye, your ladyship.”

  “Excellent. Now, Alfred, be so good as to inform Mrs. Parish that we have arrived, and when the second carriage arrives, you and Mr. Parish can help our servants bring in the baggage. You will have to show all of them except my father’s man and my woman where they are to go.” When Alfred had gone, she turned to her father and said, “Papa, before you go to your club, perhaps you will be kind enough to show Estrid her rooms, and then when her woman arrives, she can order a bath to refresh herself after her journey. Dorinda and Clemmie and I will find our own rooms. Though I haven’t been here in years, I remember that mine is at the front, so I expect I can find it, and when Meggie arrives, she can take care of all three of us. The other coach cannot be far behind. Even as heavily laden as it was, it cannot have traveled much more slowly today than we did.”

  Marrick glanced at his wife, but when, for once, she made no objection to Gillian’s high-handed methods, he agreed to show her upstairs, leaving Gillian to deal with her stepsisters.

  Clementina, shown to a charming room overlooking the terrace garden, said, “This is a splendid house, Gilly. Our papa’s house in South Audley Street was not nearly as nice as this.”

  “South Audley Street is quite near here, I believe,” Gillian said. “At least I know it is in Mayfair, because Uncle Marmaduke has a house there, and I remember his saying that the only things that recommended the place were that it was in Mayfair and just a step from the South Audley Street Chapel. We attended services at the chapel once years ago when I was here with my parents.”

  Dorinda seemed pleased with her room, too, and once Meggie, the earl’s valet, and her ladyship’s maidservant and personal footman arrived, they were quickly settled in. Gillian waited only until she was certain her father was no longer in the house before she went in search of Estrid, finding her in the elegant dressing room that had once been Gillian’s mother’s, seated at the dressing table while her maid arranged her hair. The room was redolent of verbena, Estrid’s favorite scent.

  Repressing a pang of resentment at the sight of the voluptuous blond woman, swathed in gauzy lace, sitting at the dressing table that had belonged to Gillian’s petite, dark-haired mother, she said, “May I speak privately with you, please?”

  Estrid dismissed her maid. “What is it, Gillian? You must be able to see that I took your advice and have had a bath, so I am very much occupied just now.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Gillian said, “I do see that, and that is why I wish you will allow me to see to the matter of new servants for you. Truly, Estrid,” she added before the woman could protest, “I do not mean to put myself forward in an unbecoming way, but I do know what will suit Papa—and what is more, so will his man of affairs here in London. I do not propose to interview people on my own, I assure you. That would never do. But neither would it do for you, ma’am. It would only put Papa’s back up to have a stream of applicants marching up the steps to Vellacott House.”

  It was clear that Estrid had not envisioned such a possibility, for she turned quite pale. She did not give in, however. “I do not know your father’s man of affairs in London,” she said. “I do not trust your papa’s Hollingston to hire people I like, so how do I know I can trust this other man?”

  Keeping a strong grip on her patience, Gillian said, “Because he has always attended to such matters for us, ma’am. Had you put the matter in Hollingston’s hands whilst we were still in Devon, he would have directed Mr. Squires to see to the complete staffing of Vellacott House before ever we arrived, which would have been much more comfortable for all of us.”

  Estrid seemed to be considering her words, and for a long moment it appeared that she would agree, but suddenly her countenance hardened and she said, “I see what it is. You mean to attend to the whole business and then inform your papa that I could not do it, after all. Well, I will not have it. You will see, miss, that I, too, have my man of affairs in London. I am quite certain that Sir Cedric’s man, Weston, will act for me, and now that you have told me how to set about it, I shall do so.”

  There was nothing more to be said, for experience had taught Gillian that nothing would be gained by debate. She had been as diplomatic as she knew how, but when she left Estrid’s dressing room and went through the opulent chamber known simply as the third drawing room, to the grand stair hall, she was lost in her own thoughts. Descending the stairs, intending to seek out Mrs. Parish and do what she could to soothe the woman’s feelings and assure her that she would soon have the necessary help to run the house, she paid no heed to the murmur of voices from the entrance hall until she was about to turn toward the nether regions, when she perceived at last that a visitor had arrived.

  Normally, she would not have stepped into the hall but would have waited for the footman to seek her out. However, she recognized the marquess’s deep voice, and without so much as a thought for proprieties, hurried into the hall to greet him.

  “How very pleasant, sir,” she said, holding out her hands to him. “We had not expected to see you here as soon as this.”

  Thorne turned at the sound of her voice and took both her hands in his, squeezing them warmly. With a smile that warned her at once that he meant to exert himself to be charming, he said, “You appear to have survived your journey well.”

  “Oh, it was dreadful,” she said, laughing as she conceded, if only to herself, that whatever his motives, she was very glad to see him. “Estrid detests traveling, and Papa prefers to ride his horse, so we traveled no more than thirty miles a day and generally not so many as that. And today it rained, so Papa had to sit with us, because he had arranged for only two carriage
s and refused to hire another even though Clemmie and I said we would not mind traveling with Marcus in a job chaise. By the time we arrived, the mood in our carriage was a trifle tense.”

  He chuckled. “I can imagine how it was. Was that wonderful specimen of the serving class at hand to help you from the carriage?” he asked, nodding in the direction of the door through which the footman had already disappeared.

  “Don’t criticize Alfred,” she said, lifting her chin. “The poor fellow is Mrs. Parish’s nephew and was dragged into service against his will. Estrid decided to wait until she arrived in London to hire servants, and like a ninny, I did not think to look into the matter whilst we were still at home, assuming at the time, you know, that she would simply put the whole business into Hollingston’s hands, as anyone else would have done.”

  “Do we continue this fascinating conversation here, or is there perhaps a more comfortable room at hand?” he asked gently. “I inquire with some trepidation, I confess, since it occurs to me that every other room may still be under holland covers.”

  She grinned. “If that was meant as a rebuke, sir, it falls short of the mark. I have not seen for myself whether the parlor is still in holland covers, but I know for a fact that the drawing rooms are as tidy as can be, so I must assume the parlor is as well. Mrs. Parish is an excellent caretaker, but she does not presume to be a proper housekeeper, and is very much out of her element when the house is occupied. You may perhaps think that I ought to have brought our housekeeper from Carnaby—”

  “I think no such thing,” he said, putting a hand firmly on her shoulder and turning her toward the anteroom. “Can we be private if we go this way?”

  “The parlor is through here, certainly,” she said, “but perhaps you would prefer to go up to one of the upstairs drawing rooms. That is where guests generally are taken.”

  “Will I meet your stepmama up there?”