Before the Scandal

by Suzanne Enoch

  Richard had asked how her ride with Lord Anthony had been; he’d known the villain would come calling, then, and he’d very likely known what Ellerby would be discussing. Whatever gratitude she’d had for his initial rescue had fast faded to a barely tolerable loathing. Only the knowledge that Phin was hunting him made speaking with her cousin tolerable.

  As soon as Richard returned to his newspaper and her aunt to her new embroidery project, Alyse allowed herself a smile. It seemed like ages, if ever, since she’d been able to do that in this household, much less in the presence of her relations. Phin might have taken her virginity, but he’d given her even more in return. He’d given her back her spirit. Her thoughts weren’t only of fleeing, any longer; she wanted to strike back.

  How, then, was she supposed to let Phin leave again? Not that she could do anything to stop him from going, but just the thought of him riding away to definite danger and probable death made her heart hurt. But if he hadn’t come back at all—that would have been worse.

  “What are you going to wear?” Richard asked abruptly, making her jump.

  “To go riding? My riding habit, of course.”

  “The green one.”

  “It’s the only one I own.”

  He regarded her, blowing out his breath as he did so. “You and Beth are of a size, I believe. You, Mary, go up to the green room and look in the wardrobe. There’s a gold riding habit in the bottom drawer.”

  Mary stood up, somehow managing to curtsy at the same time, and hurried from the room. Alyse recognized both the maid’s expression and the speed of her flight; poor Mary was miserable even after only one day of serving as Ernesta’s companion.

  “Are you certain you wish to be giving me all of Beth’s gifts?” she asked, hoping this courage she’d found wouldn’t serve her poorly.

  “I trust you’ll use them wisely,” he replied, somehow able to make even such a benign sentence sound menacing.

  “I agree with Alyse,” her aunt interjected. “When you offer for Beth, you certainly don’t wish to explain that your ruined cousin has borrowed all of the gifts you’d meant to shower on your betrothed.”

  Heavens. He did mean to offer for Beth. It would give him a stronger claim to Quence, but it didn’t speak well at all for the continued survival of either William or Phineas.

  “I will have a great many gifts for Beth, Mother. There’s no reason to be uncharitable where my cousin is concerned.”

  Her aunt actually laughed. “You must be in love, Richard, to have become so generous with those less worthy.”

  Alyse stifled a sigh. It would have provided her with a little satisfaction to know that she had ten thousand pounds coming to her, and that she would never have to fetch anything for her aunt again. But the more she helped Phin, the less likely she was to receive anything from her cousin.

  Perhaps she could demand a partial cash payment, so she could at least leave Lewes with enough funds to keep herself safe. Hm. As Phin had said, it was time they stopped following and instead began guiding the action.

  Mary returned to the room, a riding habit draped over her arms. The color was lovely; Richard had elegant taste, if a poor way of going about getting what he wanted. “Thank you, Richard,” she said, taking it from Mary.

  “Go put it on. Mary, help her.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Phin won’t be here for nearly three hours, Richard,” Alyse countered, curious about how far she could push his so-called generosity.

  “Then you’ll be ready when he arrives,” he returned in the same easy tone.

  “You’re not hoping to match her with that…soldier, are you, Richard? His own family can barely tolerate him. There will be gossip again.”

  “He won’t be in East Sussex long, Mother. And she’ll show well in her new habit in the meantime. Perhaps she’ll catch some shopkeeper’s eye.”

  Show well—like a horse. Well, little did they know that Phin had already…ridden her. She snorted.

  “Is something amusing to you, Alyse?” Richard asked, lowering the paper to gaze at her.

  “It’s only that I have a new dress. Thank you again.” She rose, handing the dress back to Mary. “Shall we?”

  Mary dipped another curtsy. “Yes, miss.”

  As soon as she buttoned up the front of the riding habit she realized what Richard had meant about her showing well. She’d never worn anything as snug in her life. So he meant for her to seduce a confession out of Phin.

  “Goodness, Miss Alyse,” Mary breathed, stepping back from pinning up her light brown hair. “You look beautiful.”

  Alyse spun a slow circle in front of her dressing mirror. “Thank you. I feel beautiful.” With the low-cut neckline she also felt positively scandalous, and for anyone but Phin, she would have refused to wear it.

  Now all she needed to do was wait for him to arrive, and then the two of them could figure out the best way for her to betray him.

  Phineas left Saffron standing with a groom and topped the shallow front steps to Donnelly House. As Saunders opened the door to admit him, he felt rather like he was about to walk into the middle of French territory armed with only his wits. He hoped they would prove to be sharp enough to serve.

  “The family is in the morning room,” the butler intoned.

  “Thank you, Saunders. I know the way.”

  “But I wish to announce you, sir.”

  Halting his advance midstep, Phineas looked sideways at the butler. The man had been at his post for at least the past thirty years, one of the few faces he recognized from his boyhood visits to Donnelly House. “How is Miss Donnelly this afternoon?” he asked.

  “Very glad to see a friend, I would imagine, sir.”

  Phineas nodded. He recognized an ally when he saw one. “Announce me, then, Saunders.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  He waited outside the morning room door as the butler pushed it open and entered. “My lord, Colonel Phineas Bromley.”

  And so the next act of the play began. Phineas could only hope it wasn’t another tragedy. Gathering himself, he strolled into the room. “Good afternoon, Donnelly, Mrs. Donnelly, Miss…Donnelly.”

  Good God. If Alyse’s attire had been meant to cause him to pop the buttons of his breeches, it very nearly succeeded. Gold and low-cut and nearly molded to her delicious curves, a flare at the hips that made his mouth dry, it was stunning. She was stunning. He had no idea how the devil he was supposed to ride now.

  The other two Donnellys and their accompanying servants nodded and curtsied, though he hardly noted it. He couldn’t remove his gaze from Alyse. In that attire she could have caught herself a duke. Or a prince. Or a king.

  Slowly he began to catch bits of what Donnelly was saying, something about pleasant weather for going riding. Phineas shook himself. He was in the middle of bloody enemy territory. Concentrate. “Indeed,” he said aloud, trying for something noncommittal. He cleared his throat. “Shall we?” he asked, holding out his hand to Alyse.

  She glided forward to slide her fingers around his arm. “Yes,” she returned softly, smiling at him.

  The hairs on his arms lifted. What the devil was she doing, letting Donnelly know how close they were? She could be ruined. Phineas swallowed. “I’ll have her back before dark,” he said.

  “Enjoy yourselves.”

  He waited until they were on horseback, a groom trailing them, before he spoke again. “Two questions,” he said.

  “I’m listening.”

  “Firstly, where the devil did you get that dress?”

  “Don’t you like it?”

  “It’s not a matter of liking it. It’s a matter of how long I can keep my hands off you while you’re in it.”

  She smiled, her cheeks flushing. “I shouldn’t tell you, then, that Richard gave it to me.”

  His amusement dropped into something much darker. “What?”

  “I mean he gave it to me with the intention that I should seduce your secrets out of y
ou. At least I assume that’s what he wanted. He did say that I would show well in it.”

  Despite the nastiness of her cousin’s suggestions, the information actually left Phineas feeling better. He wouldn’t tolerate poaching. Particularly not when it came from someone who had a large degree of control over Alyse’s future. “How did he know I would ask you to go riding?”

  “Well, this was actually supposed to be a gift for Beth. He wants his information, Phin.”

  That blackguard had purchased that dress for his little sister? Phineas drew in a hard breath through his nose. His private animosity toward Richard Donnelly could wait. Saving Quence, and Alyse, came first.

  “My second question, then: Has he threatened you again?”

  “No. Just more talk about how well I’d best do the task assigned me.”

  “Oh, you’re going to do it very well.”

  “Do you have a plan, then?”

  Phineas gazed at her. He imagined that most females who’d been through what she had wouldn’t have hesitated to give him up in exchange for what Richard offered. Conscience notwithstanding, ten thousand quid would make for a warm blanket on any cold, sleepless night.

  “What are you looking at?” she prompted. “I told you that the dress was not my idea.”

  “I’m not looking at the dress.”

  “Oh.” She blushed prettily.

  “I’m going to ask you to trust me,” he said slowly.

  “I trust you.”

  He smiled at that; he couldn’t help it. If she knew how very much it meant to him to have someone—to have her—say that…Later, Phin. “Then there are parts of the plan I can’t tell you.”

  She didn’t like that; he could see it in her eyes as she glanced at him and then returned her gaze to the path. “Perhaps I should have thought to ask if you trust me,” she said.

  “I trust you with my life,” he returned, hearing the shake of his words as he spoke. “And I swear that after this is over with, I will honestly answer any and every question you put to me.”

  “Every question?”

  “Every question.”

  Alyse nodded. “Very well. I’m listening.”

  As he told her, Phin sent up a quick prayer. Most of this brilliant plan of his relied on two people who hadn’t even arrived yet in East Sussex. And if they failed to appear in time, he was going to lose everything, including his life.

  “What did he tell you?”

  Alyse stopped halfway up the stairs as Richard leaned over the balcony railing above her. Her heart beat so hard and fast she was surprised everyone in the household couldn’t hear it. What Phin had asked her to do felt…deadly, if not to her then to him, but she’d given her word. “Might we speak in private?” she returned, continuing her climb.

  “He did tell you something, then.”

  “Richard, I—”

  “Yes, yes, come into the library.”

  “I’d like to change my clothes, first.” And to gather her thoughts for more than the time Phin had given on the ride back to Donnelly House.

  “Later. We don’t have all day to wait for you.”

  We. “Who else is here?”

  As she topped the stairs, her cousin took her arm and half dragged her toward the library door. Oh, how she detested this man. She couldn’t allow him to know that, however. Not yet.

  Lord Charles and Lord Anthony were seated in the library, both smoking cheroots and looking terribly pleased with themselves. Alyse squared her shoulders. She could do this. Phin had faith in her, and he needed her to succeed.

  “Gentlemen,” she said, tugging her arm free of Richard’s grip as he closed the door, leaving the four of them in private. As he did so, Anthony’s threats about ways she could be useful trickled into her mind, sending a surge of uneasiness through her.

  “What did he say?” Richard repeated, emphasizing each word and making it clear that he wasn’t going to ask again.

  “He didn’t confess to being The Frenchman.”

  “Damnation,” Lord Charles muttered. “What the devil good is she?”

  “He did, however,” she continued, “several times mention the ball at Roesglen evening after next. Then he rubbed his left shoulder and said he hoped you, Lord Charles, would be coming by coach.” She took a step forward. “I think you did shoot him, after all.”

  “I knew I had.”

  “Anything else?” her cousin asked.

  “One thing.”

  “Out with it, then.”

  Alyse took a breath. Phin hadn’t mentioned this part, but as far as she was concerned, she needed some incentive for turning on an old friend. “First I would like five thousand pounds.”

  Anthony stood up. “What?” he scoffed. “Are you joking?”

  “No, I’m not. I…I would like some assurance that you won’t simply take my information and forget that we had an agreement.”

  Richard narrowed his eyes. “Clever little bit, aren’t you?”

  “I won’t end up begging in the street.”

  Shoving a cigar between his teeth, Richard pulled open the door and left the room. While the other two men gazed at her, making her feel completely naked and dirty as they took in the low-cut riding habit, Alyse kept her gaze, if not her attention, on the fireplace.

  “How much more would we have to pay, do you think,” Anthony drawled, “to put you on your back?”

  “You don’t have enough to tempt me,” she retorted.

  “Everyone’s got their price, Alyse,” Charles took up. “You just told Richard what yours is.”

  “I’ve been promised a great deal more,” she stated, as Richard entered the room again. “This is just proof of your honorable intentions.”

  Her cousin dumped a bag into her hand. “Twenty-five hundred pounds,” he muttered, leaning against the back of one of the chairs. “All I had to hand. Out with it, Alyse, or I’ll let my friends here persuade you.”

  She closed her fist around the heavy bag. Goodness, it was a fortune compared to what she’d been able to hide away. “Phin returned my mother’s pearls to me. The Frenchman took them, the night he stopped us.”

  Anthony clapped his hands together. “That settles it well enough for me,” he said. “By God. We’ve got him.”

  Richard shook his head. “No. We’ll have him after the Roesglen ball.” He turned his head to look at Alyse. “Go count your money, Judas. We have things to discuss.”

  “When you’ve stopped him, I want the rest of what you promised me,” she said, walking with as much dignity as she could to the door, considering that she wanted to run, to flee the room and the house and not stop running until she’d reached Phin.

  “You’ll have it. And just remember, Alyse. If you say anything to him, I’ll make certain he knows all about our agreement.”

  Straightening her shoulders, she left the room and closed the door firmly behind her. Only when she’d made it safely to her new bedchamber did she let out her breath and sag onto the bed. Phin already knew all about her agreement with Richard. She only hoped that knowledge would be enough to keep him alive.

  Chapter 24

  When Phineas arrived downstairs for a quick breakfast, he was surprised to see William there already. “This is early even for you, isn’t it?” he asked, shoveling fresh bread and a stack of sliced ham onto his plate.

  “I don’t want you riding the property,” his brother returned. “You’ve made yourself a target.”

  “Nothing else is going to be damaged at Quence while I’m here. Gordon’s going to take the north and east of the property, and I’ll take the south and west. I won’t be alone; I hired some men to keep an eye out for any mischief.”

  “Just stay inside the house, Phin. Please.”

  “For how long?” He took the seat at his brother’s elbow. “Smythe surprised me the other night because I was overeager. Now I know what they’re willing to do, and I’ll be ready.” He flashed a smile. “I am a trained officer, after all.”


  “I would rather sell Quence to Richard today than have you risk your life,” William said quietly.

  “You are not doing any such thing. You may not trust me, but trust that I won’t allow this to continue.”

  “And how do you intend to stop it, short of killing people?”

  Killing people was beginning to seem a reasonable response. “I’ll find proof. If I can’t, then threats will have to do.” He shrugged. “If they aren’t sufficient, then—”

  “For God’s sake. Don’t even say it.” William shook his head. “How am I going to tell Beth to stay away from Donnelly?”

  “I don’t think that will be a problem.”

  “Why not? She’s half in love with him already. Or she thinks she is. And I’ve encouraged it, damn it all.”

  “Help is on the way,” Phineas finally said, though he’d been reluctant to do so until it actually arrived. It was already late.

  “Help is here,” a low drawl came from the doorway.

  Phineas shot to his feet, his hand going to the pistol in his pocket before he recognized the speaker. With a grin he strode forward. “Bram.”

  Lord Bramwell Lowry Johns, black-haired, black-eyed, and black-clothed, ignored his outstretched hand and gripped him hard around the shoulders, one of the few times since Phin had met him that he seemed to show genuine emotion. “Welcome home, Phin.”

  “Thank you. Is Sul—”

  “Right behind me,” Bram interrupted, setting him loose and going around to the head of the table to shake William’s hand.

  With the timing of a clock, Sullivan Waring walked through the doorway, a tall, tawny-haired angel to Bram’s devil. Grinning, he swept his arms around Phineas and lifted him into the air. “You shouldn’t have waited so long to send for us,” he said, setting Phin down again.

  “You’re just married,” Phineas returned, more relieved than he could describe. Notorious gentlemen, fellow officers, friends, brothers. Help had indeed arrived. “I didn’t want to take you away from your wife if I could avoid it.”

  “He’s insufferably happy,” Bram put in, avoiding the sideboard and instead calling for a bottle of whiskey. “Very annoying to witness, really.”