Wedded in Scandal

by Jade Lee

  Helaine touched Lady Gwen’s arm, her sense of justice forcing her to confess part of the truth. “Please,” she said as she drew the woman around. “Your brother has learned of my past. He was simply applying as a replacement protector.”

  It took a moment for Gwen to understand what she meant, and when the information finally processed, the woman blushed to the roots of her fine blond hair. “Oh. Oh! Oh, but does that mean—”

  “I have turned him down,” Helaine said.

  Gwen frowned, her gaze darting between the two of them. “That was a refusal?”

  Helaine sighed. “Men usually don’t take ‘no’ on the first try. Your brother is no more and no less than any other man in that regard.” She said the words and tried not to choke on them. The truth was that one kiss had shown her that Lord Redhill was a great deal more spectacular than any other man.

  “Oh, well,” said Gwen, her eyes flashing fire at her brother again. “Never fear. I shall be sure to emphasize that point to him in the future.” Then she straightened and crossed to the door, hauling it open with a dramatic flourish. “I believe you have your answer, Robert. Good-bye.”

  Lord Redhill’s gaze narrowed on his sister, clearly annoyed by her high-handedness. But it was his next look—the one that rested long and heavy on Helaine—that had her squirming where she stood. It brought to mind all that they had done in the space of a few seconds, and all that might have happened had his sister not appeared precipitously. Her mouth went suddenly dry and she could not hold his gaze.

  He waited an interminable minute longer, then finally spoke. “You are right, Gwen. I believe I shall take my leave. But pray, my dear, do not let my actions influence your financial decisions. Her request for early payment is not the usual course of—”

  “Oh, just get out!” Gwen snapped. “You are the most pompous ass I have ever known!” And with that, the petite woman grabbed her brother’s arm and shoved him out the door. Never had Helaine seen the like, and a part of her was thrilled to see that someone was capable of putting the arrogant, managing, incredibly seductive Lord Redhill in his place. Especially as the door slammed on his behind.

  “I vow you are a most amazing woman,” Helaine said. “How can I express my gratitude?”

  “What? Oh, Mrs. Mortimer, you should be the one demanding my forgiveness. Really, Robert can be such a bully. But never you fear, I have been putting him in his place since he was in shortcoats. I shall most certainly continue to do so on your behalf.”

  Helaine released a halfhearted laugh. On the one hand, Lady Gwen was delightful when she spoke with such righteous indignation. On the other hand, she had no wish to come between the two siblings and certainly not about something as confusing as a kiss. “Please, my lady, you will do me the greatest favor if you just forget this entire incident.”

  “Of course, of course. Ring for some fresh tea, and we shall talk of something much more pleasant than my wretched brother.”

  Helaine did as she was bidden, grateful to settle into a discussion of clothing and dress styles. She was able to bring out the sketches for Gwen’s trousseau that she’d done early that morning, and was pleased when the lady began to embellish the designs to just what she desired. Gwen was working extra hard to be pleasant, and Helaine was inordinately grateful for the respite from her feelings.

  And yet, no amount of time spent in fashion discourse could completely erase the memory of Lord Redhill. It could not hide the fact that her body still heated at just the thought of the handsome man. It could not prevent her lips from tingling slightly whenever she chanced to look at the chair where he had kissed her. Nor could it completely stop her wayward thoughts from reliving every sweet sensation that he had stroked to glorious life.

  There was no doubt in her mind that she had just been seduced. In the space of a few seconds, the irritating man had conquered her. It mattered not that she had only given him a kiss. The horrid man had awoken something inside her and, try as she might, she couldn’t lie to herself about that simple fact.

  He had seduced her, and what made it even worse was that the whole thing had nothing to do with attraction. Well, perhaps she was attracted to him, and she would go to her grave regretting that. But he wasn’t attracted to her. Not in the usual way.

  His offer, and consequent seduction, was simply about asserting dominance. She and Francine had bested him. They had all but called him an idiot, and they had done it in front of Anthony, another man. What was any male’s reaction to humiliation? Why, sexual domination, of course. And she had succumbed! For the space of a few heartbeats, she had given in to his dominance like any weak-willed woman.

  Oh, what a fool she was! After all, she wasn’t a young girl, innocent to the ways of men. Her naïveté had been stripped away the moment her father’s name had been destroyed. Then all manner of men had shown up, planning to take what her father could not defend. None of them had counted on her strength of character, on her resilience, or on her changing her name to become a dressmaker. She had resources beyond becoming someone’s mistress!

  And so she would tell him if she ever saw him again. And God forbid he should try anything like that on her again! She was prepared now. She would put him in his place so fast, his head would be ringing for a week!

  If…When…She bit her lip and tried to get hold of her raging temper. She was only angry at herself. After all, he was acting as all men did. Meanwhile, she had a customer—and one whom she desperately needed to charm.

  Sadly, that was where they encountered a problem. It turned out that Lady Gwen had indeed heard her brother’s warnings. She was not in the least bit inclined to pay even so much as a groat ahead of time. Or, at least, she wasn’t unless Helaine agreed to a rather spectacularly bad idea.

  “I-I’m sorry?” Helaine stammered. “I’m afraid I didn’t hear you exactly.” She had, in fact, heard everything clearly, but couldn’t believe the request.

  “Well, you see,” Lady Gwen began, obviously embarrassed and yet excited at the same time, “my brother might be obnoxious, but he did impress upon me that proper management of money required thought and maturity. He did say—”

  “Yes, I know,” Helaine interrupted. “He believes that advance payment is a ridiculous notion. But we are in a special circumstance.”

  “I know, I know! Which is why my solution works perfectly!”

  Helaine sighed. “My dear, you are a gently bred woman. Commerce requires something of a less refined nature.”

  “But you are a gently bred woman as well. Don’t try to deny it. I can hear it in your voice.”

  She was right. Helaine had once traveled in the most elite circles. But that was a long time ago. “Lady Gwen—”

  “No, no! My mind is quite made up. If you wish to make my trousseau, then you must simply allow me to go with you to purchase the cloth. I wish to see everything. Then I can pay the merchants directly—and on credit, I might add—and you shall have what you need to make my clothing!”

  Helaine tried not to squirm in her seat. Lady Gwen had no idea what would be involved in purchasing the items required. Especially since some of these merchants could be downright nasty. “But if you have the money, there is no reason to purchase on credit.”

  The girl brightened considerably at that. “Well, that is where you are wrong! Robert talked to me about interest. Said having money earns more money! Just imagine! It simply earns money because you have not spent it. Therefore, credit makes the best sense of all. I get to earn interest, and you still have the wherewithal to buy fabric and the like.”

  Fabric, yes. Tomorrow’s dinner, no. But she couldn’t say that. In truth, as a businesswoman, Helaine had learned about the miracle of interest as well. Except, of course, they never had enough money to earn interest.

  “That’s all very clever of you,” Helaine began, “but you don’t understand the locations I must go to get things. And truthfully, I have just entered an arrangement with another lady to purchase things on my b
ehalf. She is much more capable of handling herself in the rougher locations. Lace, for example, is often negotiated right on the docks.”

  Far from being deterred, Lady Gwen actually clapped her hands in excitement. “Oh, my! That does sound like an adventure.”

  “It’s not,” Helaine returned with as dampening an attitude as she could manage.

  “Well, it will be for me!” Gwen said happily.

  Helaine stalled by drinking her tea. It had long since gone cold, but she sipped at it nonetheless. There had to be some way to dissuade the girl, but try as she might, she simply couldn’t think of a thing. But one look at the girl’s face and she knew Gwen would not be dissuaded easily. In the end, Helaine set down her cup with a definitive click.

  “Very well,” she said slowly, “on one condition. You shall not go anywhere without me. Ever. Truly, Lady Gwen, that is for your own safety.”

  “Of course, of course,” Gwen returned happily.

  “And you shall bring a footman with you. A big, burly one. Perhaps two.”

  The girl’s eyes widened in surprise. “You truly think it is that dangerous?”

  “I do,” she said firmly.

  “Very well then. Two footmen of extra large stature.”

  Helaine leaned back in her seat, her nefarious plot accomplished. There was no way that the girl could get the use of two footmen without her brother finding out. And once he did, there was absolutely no way the man would allow his sister into such a potentially dangerous situation. It was horrible of her, but she did not see another way.

  Meanwhile, Lady Gwen was practically bouncing in her seat. “So? When do we go and to where?”

  Helaine pretended to think hard about it. “Well,” she drawled, pulling out the most reprehensible name on her list of suppliers, “as soon as you send word that you have the footmen, we shall go to Captain Johnny Bono’s Excellent Mercantile. Mind that you let your butler know where you are going. Dribbs would want to know where his staff is working.” And he would be sure to let his lordship know as well.

  “An excellent suggestion,” the girl crowed. “I shall send word tonight!”

  Five hours later, Helaine discovered all her manipulations had failed. A letter arrived from Lady Gwen stating that she had obtained the necessary protection and would arrive at the shop at noon on the morrow. But it wasn’t until the postscript that Helaine truly began to panic. It read:

  P.S. I’m terribly sorry, but Robert has insisted on coming along as well.

  Robert wasn’t exactly sure what to expect when they entered Mrs. Mortimer’s dress shop. He knew she would be there. He guessed she would be somewhat on guard against him. After all, he had attempted to seduce her, and frankly, he was still intent on doing the deed.

  Despite the scolding from his sister, Robert did not feel as though he was violating any ethical code of behavior. If Mrs. Mortimer were just a dressmaker, then she would naturally be off-limits. But she’d been mistress to Lord Metzger long before she became a dressmaker. As Lord Metzger was conveniently dead, Mrs. Mortimer was open game. And Robert was more than willing to be a hunter.

  So he had decided to accompany his sister on her shopping expedition. He would risk a day of boredom if it meant he could continue his pursuit of the exquisite Mrs. Mortimer. At least those were his thoughts before he saw her that morning.

  She was dressed all in black, as a widow, complete with bonnet and umbrella. But the dress itself was a study in contrasts. The fabric was cheap wool, but the cut was exquisite, showing off her swells and hollows in a way that made him look twice. Especially because she looked plump. He frowned, studying her more closely. The swell of her bosom looked natural. Beautifully natural, but the rest of the dress…

  “Are you wearing padding?” he gasped. Her form had added in girth by at least an inch if not more.

  She arched a brow at him, color tingeing her cheeks. “What I wear and why is none of your concern, my lord.”

  A well-intoned set-down, but color was still building in her cheeks. She was embarrassed, but why? Meanwhile, she had turned to his sister.

  “Please, Lady Gwen, I cannot think this is wise. Even with the presence of your brother. Especially with his presence.”

  Gwen frowned, both irritation and confusion in her words. “I don’t understand. You said you buy much of your supplies from this Johnny Bono.”

  Mrs. Mortimer bit her lip in consternation. “I do, Lady Gwen, but he is exactly the reason I hired Irene. However, Irene is not available this morning. And this is hardly the place—”

  “I am sick to death of people telling me where it is and is not appropriate for me to go. If you are safe there, then I most certainly shall be, especially with Robert and Jack along.”

  Jack was their burliest footman and he was waiting on the carriage seat along with their coachman. Meanwhile, Mrs. Mortimer smiled her most winning smile and touched his sister’s hands.

  “I know you are most brave, but believe me when I say that there are places I would certainly not go if I had no need. I spent the morning writing to other vendors, requesting a private audience for you, but none are available. I’m afraid they don’t believe I’ve landed a client such as you.”

  “Private!” gasped Gwen as she rolled her eyes. “I am not so delicate that I need such exalted service. And as for their beliefs, it is their loss. You are an excellent dressmaker, Mrs. Mortimer, and I wish to begin purchasing my dresses. Now, if you please.”

  Mrs. Mortimer gave in. Indeed, what choice did she have with Gwen so insistent? But Robert had heard the fear underlying the woman’s tone and was not so sanguine as his naive sister.

  “Why ‘especially’ with me?” he asked.

  Both ladies turned to him in confusion.

  “You said you didn’t want to go especially in my presence. Why is that?”

  Mrs. Mortimer shrugged. “Johnny Bono is a man of moods, my lord. A happy mood and his goodwill shows through. He will lower his price, and I have only moderate difficulty with him. But bring in a lord, and his price triples. Bring in an arrogant, domineering lord, and he will be surly indeed.”

  He arched a brow. “I’m not always arrogant and domineering, you know.”

  “Oh, of course you are,” Gwen answered before anyone else could. “But we shall bargain him down with the offer of more sales in the future.”

  Mrs. Mortimer obviously did not like that idea, but she tried for a conciliatory tone. “Perhaps, Lady Gwen—”

  “Come, come, I insist. We shall go now and find some lovely bargains for me and my in-laws-to-be.”

  The dressmaker gave in with a regal nod of her head. But before they left the shop, she touched Gwen’s arm. “Please do not mention future sales. I do not like being beholden to Mr. Bono, even by implication.”

  Gwen’s eyebrows shot up at that, and she was about to argue, but Robert cut her off.

  “An excellent suggestion,” he said firmly. “As Mrs. Mortimer knows this Bono fellow best, I believe we should take her advice.”

  Mrs. Mortimer’s smile of relief was reward enough. But as Robert helped his sister into his carriage, he had cause to fear. He paused as he extended his hand to the dressmaker.

  “Exactly how dangerous is this place?”

  The woman sighed, and the sound came from deep within her. “There is likely no danger to you or your sister, my lord.”

  “So why the resistance?”

  “Because I must return there after you are done. Or Irene in my stead. And the situation will not be so…safe.”

  His eyebrows narrowed in anger at that. It had never occurred to him that women in London would fear for their safety on British soil. But of course, that was ridiculous. Woman were vulnerable whatever their station in life.

  But there was no time to reconsider, and in truth, he had no wish to. He wanted to see this Johnny Bono and ascertain for himself if Mrs. Mortimer was simply exaggerating her fears or if there was true danger right here in his own backya
rd.

  Some fifteen minutes later, they arrived at a location that could only be described as vile. It was a warehouse conveniently located near the docks and tucked in tight to the fish yards. The stench was overpowering and, worse, the buildings sat too close to let the air blow the scent away. Two blocks before, Mrs. Mortimer had passed his sister a sachet of sweet-smelling herbs. Both ladies had one pressed to their nose, and Robert envied them the feminine accoutrement. But if he thought the smell alone would deter his sister, he was sadly mistaken. As soon as the carriage came to a halt, she grabbed her reticule and made for the door. After a shared expression of resignation with Mrs. Mortimer, Robert assisted the ladies to disembark.

  Then he met Mr. Bono and had the overwhelming desire to shove them both back inside the carriage. The man was standing at the doorway to the warehouse, a smile of welcome on his face. He was tall, dressed immaculately, and was, by any account, handsome as sin. He also had a way of looking at the women that raised Robert’s every protective instinct.

  “Mrs. Mortimer! How very delightful it is to see you again.” He stepped forward and took her hand in greeting. The dressmaker allowed it, even seemed to smile in welcome, but Robert could see the tension in her body as the man pressed the back of her hand to his lips.

  “It is always an adventure seeing you as well,” she said dryly. “Allow me to present Lord Redhill and his sister, Lady Gwen.”

  The man immediately changed his attention to Robert’s sister, clasping her hand in a nearly reverent embrace. “Exquisite, my lady. Welcome,” he said as he pressed his lips to Gwen’s hand. If it weren’t for the gloves she wore, Robert would have had a hard time allowing even this intimacy. Which was ridiculous, since the gentleman had acted—so far—only in a most proper manner. Especially as he finally released Gwen to bow politely before Robert. “My lord.”

  Robert gave him the barest of nods as he looked about. “Which is your warehouse?” he asked, doing his best to keep his voice urbane. They were surrounded on all sides by the dark, ugly buildings.