To Wed in Scandal (A Scandal in London Novel)

by Liana Lefey

  “Well, get on with it, sluggard,” Fairford shouted. “Your master awaits your leisure.”

  The young man ducked his head submissively and quickened his pace.

  Beyond him, the carriage began to roll away, momentarily capturing Henry’s attention. Why was it leaving? The lad passed him by, and he turned in confusion just in time to see him walk up to Fairford with the message held out. What was he doing? Why was he giving him the message?

  Before Fairford could take it, the servant’s other hand rose from beneath the folds of his coat, the grip of a pistol held in it.

  Henry could do no more than open his mouth before the weapon fired with a loud crack and a cloud of smoke. He watched in stunned amazement as Fairford staggered to his knees, clutching his midsection.

  Reaching up with his other hand, the footman drew off his hat and wig, transforming into a woman, and Henry recognized Raquel. He ran to where she stood, her attention riveted on the body lying in the grass. His surprise was such that he could not even speak as Percy and Fenton came up beside him.

  The girl knelt by Fairford and addressed the dying man. “Your death will not bring back the babe you took from me, or the lives of those that might have followed,” she said coldly. “But it will ensure the life of Lady Montgomery and her child.”

  Fairford opened his mouth to reply, but all that issued forth was a strangled, gurgling noise.

  Henry watched as his gaze became fixed and unseeing.

  “It is over,” whispered Raquel, standing.

  Then, and only then, did Henry notice the tears streaming down her cheeks. After a stunned moment, he spun her about. “You should have let me kill him! As the challenged, I would’ve been protected. They’ll hang you! Why did you not wait for word at the house with the others?”

  “He murdered my child,” she said hollowly, continuing to stare at the body. “He took the life of my babe as if it were less than nothing. Had he killed you, he would have gone after yours, too. I could not allow it. Not when I could stop him. I do not regret my action. I accept my fate with peace in my heart.”

  Henry turned to Percy, already having decided her fate—and it wasn’t the gallows. “Take her home. And speak of this to no one. Fenton and I will see to the body.” Bending, he took up the girl’s discarded weapon. He peered at it for a moment in growing confusion.

  “I am sorry to have abused your kindness and trust, my lord, but I had no choice,” said Raquel, pausing. “He has taken so much from so many. He took our children. And he took their lives, the others before me. I heard him talking to his man. They murdered them. Murdered them all. I could not let him do the same to Lady Sabrina. She and her lady mother were so kind to me, though they had no reason to be.”

  Tucking his father’s purloined pistol away in his pocket, Henry regarded Fairford’s body with distaste. “He would have died today by my hand, had you not interfered, though I suppose you had more right than anyone to end his life. Still, that will not protect you if word of this gets out.”

  “Who is this woman?” interrupted Fenton. “And what’s all this about Fairford murdering people?”

  “She is no one you need be concerned with,” Henry replied, piercing him with a cold stare. “A terrible wrong has been righted. That is all you need know. If anyone asks, it was my hand that killed him, and you’ve never seen this woman. Do we have an understanding?”

  Paling, Fenton nodded.

  “You do not have to protect me, my lord,” said Raquel. “I knew what I was about when I stole the weapon and your servant’s livery. As I said, I am ready to accept my fate.”

  He peered at her for a moment. “If I do not do this, you will most certainly be bound for Tyburn, dear lady. And I would not have that be your end. There is also still the matter of his man.”

  “Fairford would have had him hiding nearby to ensure your death in the event he missed,” she said calmly.

  Henry looked about the meadow with apprehension.

  “He will not trouble us,” continued Raquel. “If he was indeed here, then I am certain he has already fled and is halfway to the docks by now. If not, then he will vanish the instant he learns of his master’s death, for he knows he will hang if he is caught, and his loyalty is to himself above all.”

  “You are willing to let him escape justice? It was he that executed the other women. I know this to be a fact.”

  “Let God be his judge, for he never laid a hand on me,” she replied. “It was Fairford who ordered my child’s death. It was his hands that—”

  “I know,” Henry said gently. “We will see if we can find him, just the same.”

  She nodded, and he saw that she was trembling from head to toe.

  “Percy, get her out of here,” he commanded. “And for God’s sake, find something more appropriate for her to wear before she is seen and there are questions.”

  After one last look at the dead man on the ground, Raquel allowed Percy to lead her away.

  Henry took off his jacket and laid it on the ground beside Fairford’s body. He addressed Fenton. “Help me move the body. We will take Fairford to his family and explain how he died at my hand on the field of honor, in proper fashion, according to the rules of the challenge. His grievance with me is well known. There should be no questions.”

  The other man did not argue.

  When all was done and he finally arrived at Aylesford, he was greeted by the sight of Sabrina rushing into the entry hall, skirts hiked up, heels clattering on the marble tile. He caught her in his arms and held her as she wept into his chest unashamedly.

  “Thank the Lord!” she sobbed. “When no one came back with news for so long, I thought I’d never see you again!”

  Clutching her tightly, he stroked her back and kissed her hair. If there was ever a doubt in his mind regarding her feelings, there was no more. His father, Sheffield, and Lady Aylesford arrived at an only slightly more dignified pace.

  “Henry! What in heaven’s name happened?” said his mother-in-law. “No, before that, I must tell you that we have been unable to find Raquel. We’ve searched the house and grounds thoroughly, but there is no trace of her. The constable has been sent for, and—”

  “She is with Percy and perfectly safe,” Henry assured her. “I’ve a tale to tell, but not just now,” he said quietly, flicking a glance at the gathering crowd of servants. “Suffice it to say that Fairford has received due justice,” he announced a bit louder. “He will trouble us no more.”

  Shifting to a more comfortable position, Sabrina absently rubbed the gentle swell of her midsection as she read. At last, the uproar over the scandal of her wedding and the duel that followed had died down, and the papers had moved on to other news. The duel that never happened, she thought with a smile.

  Mrs. Geraldine Childers had disappeared from London, as had Mr. Everett Grimsby, who was now wanted for the Thames murders.

  Sabrina grimaced. Upon scanning farther down the page, her eyes widened. “Henry! Look at this,” she exclaimed, showing him the paper:

  Lady Bidewell announces her daughter’s engagement to Lord Thomas Fairford, cousin to the recently deceased Lord Francis Fairford, now heir to the Fairford baronetcy.

  She snorted. “Well, that was rather hasty, if I do say so. Her former suitor is barely cold in his grave and already she is engaged to his successor.”

  Bending to nuzzle her neck before taking a seat beside her, her husband chuckled. “She certainly didn’t waste time. Fortunately for her, Thomas is nothing like his predecessor. I knew him at university. He’s a very decent fellow.”

  “I’m glad of it, for her sake. I admit her animosity toward me was largely my fault. I hope she’s very happy.” Sighing, she tossed the papers aside. “Chadwick is to be married, Miss Bidewell is soon to be settled, and my mother will be Lady Sheffield before Christmas. Only Percy remains unshackled—and don’t give me that look,” she groused. “You and I both know he needs a wife.”

  “Yes, well, I
doubt you’ll convince him of it anytime soon. He was set on having you, remember?”

  “Has there been any word yet?” she asked, deliberately changing the subject.

  “Give it time.” He laughed. “They’ll have only just arrived in Paris by now. It’ll take a good month to see her properly settled, at the least.”

  “It’s a shame she’s decided not to contact her family,” she replied, frowning slightly. “But perhaps it’s for the best. There would be questions, questions I’m sure she’d rather not answer.”

  “I only hope he knows what he’s doing,” said Henry. “It’s dangerous business, pouring money into a charity. He has no shortage of funds, but still…”

  “Don’t you dare impugn his generosity! Let him play the hero for a while, if he’s so inclined. He’s only just learned what it means to care for someone more than himself.”

  He shook his head in denial. “Not so, my dear. I’m afraid you were the one who taught him the art of self-sacrifice. For the first time in his life, he did what was right instead of what he wanted.” Reaching out, he brushed a wisp of hair back from her forehead. “You’ve a way of changing people.”

  “You haven’t changed at all,” she accused.

  “I’ve changed more than you can possibly imagine.”

  “Nonsense,” she whispered, nestling into his shoulder. “You’re still the same man I met all those years ago. I think I might have loved you even then—I must have, or it wouldn’t have hurt so much when you made fun of me.”

  “If that is so, then I certainly hope you’ve changed the way you show affection. I don’t relish the idea of finding snakes in my pockets or—”

  “You promised you’d never bring that up again!” she said, throwing a cushion at him.

  Wrapping his arms around her, he laughed and held her close. “I promise I’ll always love you, my adorable, wonderful Pest.”

  Sneak Peek: To Make a Match

  by

  Liana LeFey

  THE MOMENT THEIR guests departed, Victoria went to her room and shut the door, throwing the bolt.

  Could things get any worse? Thanks to Withington, she now appeared a complete wanton, and her sister had just insinuated that she was unhinged. Would Cavendish ever come back?

  The air in the room was stuffy, and she felt as though everything was closing in on her. She had to get out. Right now. Besides, she needed to have a chat with Primero after his naughty behavior.

  Extricating herself from her gown, she changed into her riding clothes. Her shirt was getting rather tatty. She’d need a new one, soon. The breeches still had a lot of wear in them, though, and her boots were decent, at least.

  One day, she would order a set of beautiful new riding clothes tailored to her specifications—including breeches—and be damned anyone who disapproved. Plucking out her hairpins, she plaited her inky tresses into a long, loose braid down her back, her nimble fingers working quickly.

  Without so much as a glance in the mirror, she took herself to the window. Checking first to be certain no one was about, she climbed over the sill and stepped out across the divide and onto a sturdy branch. Shimmying down the hand and footholds she’d carved into the giant oak’s trunk as a child, she dropped to the ground and made for the stables.

  Slipping into Primero’s stall, Victoria hugged his great neck, taking comfort in his gentle strength. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks. He butted her to show his concern, and she ran her palm down his mane in calming strokes to reassure him that all was well.

  But all was not well. Not at all.

  Primero nuzzled her shoulder until she rested her forehead against his brow. She gazed into his gentle brown eye. “You must stop nipping people, sweetheart,” she softly scolded.

  He replied with an obstinate chuff that brought a smile to her lips. She stroked his cheek with her thumb in a circular motion and blew gently into his nostrils. “I know you don’t much care for gentlemen after the way you were treated, but I’m afraid you must learn to put up with them. I’ll be married one day and have a husband, and little Charlie will one day grow up, too. You like him. He’s good to you, isn’t he? There, now,” she soothed. “You don’t want to run him off, do you?”

  He nickered, and she patted him, accepting the apology with a laugh. “Why don’t we go for that ride?”

  The huge horse rocked his head up and down as if he’d understood her perfectly. In spite of her sister’s disparaging comments this afternoon, Victoria was convinced that he had. What did Amelia know, anyway? She hated horses and made fun of the Romani who’d taught her so much. Far more than anyone knew.

  Taking down her light saddle, she fitted it to Primero’s back. It was no more than a slip of padded leather compared to a proper one, but she was more comfortable with it, and she knew he liked it better as well.

  Without bothering to lead him out first, she hooked a boot in the stirrup and expertly swung herself up. “Hah!” she cried, leaning against his neck.

  The horse shot out of the stables with Victoria clinging to his back, and Julius swore as the great beast tore down the path, scattering great clods of earth behind him.

  She’d ridden right past without even seeing him.

  He had left his carriage and circled back on foot, hoping to find a way to speak with her in private. He’d witnessed her climb down the oak from afar and had followed her to the stables only to miss her, thanks to a gardener he’d had to hide from at the last moment.

  The last thing he needed was to be discovered chasing after the wrong Lennox sister.

  Still cursing under his breath, he made to borrow a horse. If he hurried, he might catch up.

  Once mounted, he followed the well-worn track towards the wood. He slowed on passing beneath its eaves, lest his horse misstep in the gloom. When he at last ascended up out of the valley, he was greeted by a sweeping vista of low, grass-covered hills.

  Victoria was nowhere in sight.

  He rode on for a while, hoping. At last, a ripple of familiar laughter was carried back to him on the wind. Cresting the next rise, he looked down and caught his breath.

  Primero streaked across the valley at what seemed an impossible speed for so large an animal, his powerful haunches bunching and lengthening as he ate up the terrain. Victoria rode astride on his great back, her hair whipping behind her like a long, black banner. She’d let him have his head, and he ran free of all restraint.

  Julius watched them approach one of the low stone walls that riddled the hills, and his heart stopped beating. Just as he was about to shout a warning, Primero sailed gracefully over the obstacle, clearing it by at least a foot and thundering down on the other side. A triumphant whoop of joy erupted from his rider as he slowed to a trot.

  The wind gusted, and Primero snorted, lifting his proud head and turning towards the hilltop where Julius stood in awe. Even as Victoria spied him, her mount pawed the earth and neighed a challenge. She leaned down, taking a moment to calm him before urging him forward.

  As they climbed the slope towards him, Julius marked how she guided her mount purely by the pressure of her knees, flowing with the giant beast’s movements as if they were one creature. She held no reins, and her saddle was hardly more than a piece of leather.

  Like the Romani, she required neither bit nor bridle to control him.

  When she stopped alongside him, he saw that her face was wet with tears. He dismounted, waiting as she swung her leg over and slid to the ground.

  “Victoria, I—” He took a deep breath and tried not to sound furious. He was unsuccessful. “Did you completely lose all sense today? I was practically on the verge of challenging my best friend to pistols at dawn over that bit with the rose. I knew to expect some sort of theatrical declaration, but not that.”

  Her smoky eyes chilled to winter rain, and her voice whipped out like a blade. “That was not my idea. After the disaster in the stables, I pressured him to act quickly to repair the damage. We did not have time to plan, and
I had no way of predicting his actions. I guess when he saw the roses, he thought it the best way for him to truly convince Amelia of his intent without actually laying hands on me. I had no choice but to accept it. Had I refused, she would have known we were lying. He didn’t really mean anything by it. You should have seen him afterward. He was—”

  “Yes, I know,” he said. “He told me. I stopped him after we left the grounds. I rather lost my temper, I’m afraid.”

  Her eyes widened. “You didn’t…”

  “No. But it was a near thing. You should have heard him trying to explain himself.” He smiled sheepishly. “I’m honest enough to admit I’ve made a right muck of things. I should have just gone to your father and asked for you from the start.”

  “That would have been far a worse disaster.” Her eyes lit with mischief. “On the bright side, Amelia was completely livid.”

  Her grin was infectious, and he found himself laughing. “She was beside herself. You really enjoy tweaking her nose, don’t you?”

  She attempted to look contrite, to no effect. He knew better. “I can’t help it,” she said. “She really is a terrible busybody and meddles in everything I do. The only real freedom I have is here, riding my horses—and now she’s trying to take that away. Everyone already thinks me an eccentric, and now she’s telling people that I’m mad and that I talk to horses.”

  It was hard for him not to smile. “But you do talk to horses.”

  She glared.

  “And I don’t think you mad for it,” he added, moving closer. “Even if I did, well…perhaps I’m the sort of fellow who finds a little madness intriguing.”

  “I’m sure you’ll feel quite differently once the gossips pick up the story,” she replied sourly. “It’s bad enough having your own family making fun of you, but that’s nothing compared to public ridicule.”

  He grasped her by the shoulders so that he could stare right into her wide, grey eyes. “I’m not so easily frightened off.”

  Taking her in his arms, he determined to prove it to her. Her lips were like berries at the peak of ripeness. He ran his tongue across their crease, teasing until she opened on a sigh. Slowly he plundered the sweet darkness of her mouth, tasting her, learning her.