Three Secrets and a Scandal (Regency Secrets and Scandals Book 2)

by Elizabeth Hanbury

  Bowyer’s battered, leathery face creased into a grin. “Neither, Sir. It was a perfect shot, given I was aiming between the two thieving culls to scare ’em off. I would have preferred to do ’em a deal more damage, but thought it best not to blow their brains out on to the road, on account of ladies being present.”

  “We are obliged to you, Mr Bowyer,” declared Sophie warmly. “If only the wretch had not taken off with my reticule!”

  Peregrine’s face held a look of awed stupefaction. “A blunderbuss! Upon my word, Lucius, does your valet always travel so well armed?”

  “Invariably. One never knows what miscreants one will encounter during a summer’s morning.” Mr Grey turned to his companion. “Miss Sloane, you’ve suffered a dreadful shock. Are you all right?”

  Olivia blinked several times, and then re-focused her gaze on his face. “Q-Quite all right, thank you.” She gave an uncertain laugh. “No one has been hurt, so I suppose I may count it an adventure.”

  A smile tugged at his mouth. “Pluck to the backbone,” he murmured, saluting her fingertips with a soft kiss. “I knew it.”

  Theo, his arm still about Sophie’s waist, said, “I’m sorry you’ve lost your reticule. Was there anything of value in it?”

  “Only a few coins,” she sighed. ‘the rest, such as it amounts to, is packed among my clothing, but I have so little ready funds I can ill afford to lose any.”

  Theo stared at the thicket into which the men had disappeared. “It’s almost unheard of to be held up in broad daylight on a post road. Most footpads wait for darkness.”

  “Do you think it’s connected with last night?” she whispered.

  “It has to be. Did you not think it strange they only asked for your reticule? Why did they not demand the gentlemen’s pocket books first which were likely to contain better pickings?” Studying Grey, Peregrine and Bowyer, Theo muttered under his breath, “The deuce of it is, I don’t know who to trust.”

  “Thank you for taking care of me—again. I shall be forever in your debt.”

  His gaze held hers. “Are you regretting your decision to set out in search of Verney?”

  Flushing, she said with forced lightness, “Oh no, I want to see James again! Besides, I’m having such adventures en route and even though you must be thinking otherwise, I cannot regret meeting you.”

  “You have no idea what is going through my head at this moment.”

  She gave him a quizzical look. ‘Tell me.”

  “Never mind. This is neither the time nor the place. Stay close and wear that dashed pin at all times.”

  “Are we going to sit here all day?” grumbled Peregrine. ‘Those devils need reporting to the magistrates and I want my lunch!”

  “Can you think of nothing else but your stomach?” said Mr Grey, with a disapproving glance. “Still, I concur we should leave this place. There is nothing more to be done now they have fled.”

  They reached Maidenhead without further incident after midday. The Sun Inn was busy, but a private parlour was procured and lunch ordered. Peregrine, still livid about being held up, went to seek out the magistrate. He returned in a foul mood in time to snatch a slice of cold pie and a plate of ham and eggs before a servant came in to say the horses had been changed.

  The remainder of the journey passed uneventfully. Salt Hill, Slough and Colnbook were negotiated easily and the potential terrors of Hounslow Heath failed to materialise, although Sophie was relieved when they had left the notorious haunt behind them.

  The Bell and Anchor outside the Hammersmith turnpike was reached late in the afternoon. Theo’s suggestion of staying there overnight and finishing the journey into London the next morning had been met with universal approval.

  Olivia had been the first to agree and Sophie mused that whatever else resulted from her impetuous flight, it had given her cousin the opportunity to shine. Even the incident in Maidenhead thicket had not unnerved Olivia. She was growing in self-assurance with every hour. A smile played about her lips, her eyes sparkled, her cheeks were becomingly tinged with pink and she had begun to take a greater part in conversation, even arguing a point with Peregrine.

  But being removed from oppression was not the sole reason for Olivia’s newly-found poise and confidence. Grey was always at her side. His reserve was never abandoned, but he seemed determined to be a charming companion and make the rest of the journey enjoyable for Olivia’s sake.

  Grey made no demur about staying overnight and Peregrine, professing himself eager for another evening of cards, also declared it a capital idea.

  Sophie, growing more nervous with every mile she drew closer to London, was more than happy to spend one more night in Theo’s company. She and Olivia had decided to share a room, which Theo agreed was advisable under the circumstances. The events of the last two days had taxed her more than she cared to admit and she felt tired and dishevelled. A good night’s sleep would see her refreshed. She wanted to look her best when she arrived at James‘s door and she tried to focus on that meeting rather than her parting from Theo.

  After a change of clothes, they gathered in the small private dining room. Dinner turned out to be a surprisingly upbeat affair. Peregrine was in a good mood and made herculean efforts to be sociable throughout the meal.

  “I’ll be putting up at Limmer’s,” he declared, as the covers were being removed. “Means I’ll be able to call on you regularly, cousin.”

  Sophie stifled a sigh, thinking she would prefer a trip to the dentist than a morning call from Perry.

  “Do you intend to stay in London long, Cavanagh?” said Grey, casting Theo a penetrating glance.

  “Perhaps a week at most,” Theo replied.

  “Oh! That is a pity,” Sophie blurted out, feeling suddenly downhearted; she had not envisaged him leaving so soon.

  “I have some business to attend to in the country,” he explained.

  “You won’t need any company but mine,” Peregrine assured her. “I’ll be happy to squire you around the sights.”

  He then shouted for a servant and the lack of immediate response sent him striding out into the hallway, grumbling about the service and intent on obtaining a pack of cards. Mr Grey went out too, promising to procure a pot of coffee for Sophie and Olivia after discussing an urgent matter with his valet.

  A short time later, Olivia went upstairs to collect her shawl and Sophie found herself alone with Theo. As she had been doing all evening, she stole surreptitious glances at him, greedily committing every detail to memory.

  She noted how the candlelight picked out threads of dark gold in his hair and glinted off the faint growth of bristle along his jaw, and how his hair curled into the rigid nape of his neck. She loved the humour around his firm mouth and the smile lurking in his eyes. He had proved himself to be kind and thoughtful, yet she also knew the steely, passionate depths beneath his easy-going exterior. They had so little time left together. In a few hours, they would go their separate ways and Sophie felt close to tears at the prospect. She ought to be overjoyed at the thought of seeing James again, but instead was conscious only of the bitter taste of unhappiness. Misery clogged her throat and her heart gave a slow, painful roll. “I-I think I’ll retire—” she began.

  Olivia returned and Sophie knew at once from her expression something was wrong.

  “What’s the matter?” she prompted.

  Olivia darted a glance at Theo. “Someone has been in our room.”

  Sophie started forward. “What! Has it been ransacked?” “No, nothing like that,” said Olivia, in an urgent voice. “Indeed, I probably would not have noticed anything at all, but my shawl was in a slightly different place from where I left it.”

  “Are you sure you are not mistaken?” said Mr Grey, who had just strolled back in and overheard.

  Olivia shook her head. “I had folded it as I always do, yet it had been refolded in a different way. Nothing seems to be missing though.”

  “Yet more mystery,” said Theo. “Any
ideas, Grey?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Why ask me?”

  “I thought you might have some suggestions.”

  Mr Grey regarded him steadily. “A few, but all of them implausible.”

  “None of us left the room during dinner,” pointed out Sophie.

  “True,” acknowledged Theo, “but the person responsible might have used an accomplice.” He concluded with an accusing look at Grey, who stared back, his expression impassive.

  A long, uncomfortable pause ensued.

  When Grey finally spoke, his tone was clipped but not uncivil, “When we were at The Pelican, I made a comment about you trusting me, Cavanagh. It was spoken somewhat flippantly at the time, which I now regret. You are cautious on Miss Devereux’s behalf and I understand your wish to keep your cards close. But it is not always the best way. Shared knowledge can be far more useful.”

  “You might apply that advice to yourself,” retorted Theo.

  Mr Grey smiled faintly, lifting his hand in the manner of a fencer acknowledging a hit. “Touché,” he murmured. “Very well. Perhaps you will feel more inclined to confide in me when Miss Devereux is installed in the Verney household.” He pushed back his chair and bowed briefly. “Ladies, I bid you goodnight. I find I have no taste for cards tonight after all, and am for bed.” His gaze lingered on Olivia. “Sleep well, Miss Sloane.”

  He went out, passing Peregrine on the way, who voiced his disgust when he learned Grey’s objective was bed rather than a hand of piquet.

  Chapter 9

  They set off promptly after breakfast. Sophie had spent a miserable night tossing and turning in her bed in a way that left the sheets and blankets crumpled and askew, even though there had been no intruders to disturb her. When she awoke to find the room full of sunlight, she was glad to get up and dressed, but she felt exhausted and a dull headache throbbed in her temples.

  Now the time for meeting James was drawing near she was entertaining every conceivable doubt. What she would do if he was not at home? Worse still, what if he was there and so disgusted with her behaviour that he gave her the cut direct?

  No, that would not happen. He could not have changed so drastically in the intervening years. At least in Madame Lavalle’s outfit she would not arrive looking like a provincial ragamuffin.

  She was prey to a wild mixture of emotions. She wanted to see James again —it was the object of her journey after all—but she dreaded saying goodbye to Theo. It was hard to believe she’d only known him for a short time. Last night she had realized with sudden and devastating clarity how much she would miss him.

  Unable to resist this last opportunity to study his profile, she peeked at him as he sat next to her in the carriage. He was sterner than usual, but nothing in his expression or his manner gave a clue to any other feelings. He had been the perfect gentleman during the journey. As for when he had almost kissed her, he must be regretting that aberration now. He wasn’t interested in someone like her. How could he be? Theo Cavanagh could have his pick of women so what could he see in an impulsive ingénue from the country? She would never be the sort of woman he would want. Duty and honour was all that bound him to her side; he had admitted as much at The Castle. This dismal reflection made her utter an involuntary sigh.

  “Nervous?” inquired her companion.

  Sophie, unwilling to reveal the real direction of her thoughts, forced a smile. “A little. Understandable, I suppose, when I have not seen James for several years. I hope he will be pleased to see me when he has recovered from the shock.”

  “He’s a fool if he is not,” he said after a pause. “Where is the Verney townhouse?”

  “Upper Brook Street.”

  “Then we shall take our leave of Peregrine soon if he is staying at Limmer’s.”

  “Where is that?” she asked, hoping it was not too near Upper Brook Street.

  “The corner of Conduit Street and Hanover Square. It’s usually seething with sporting bloods and, since your cousin fancies himself among their number, it will suit him perfectly.” He glanced at her, his gaze anxious. “Don’t let him bother you, will you? He intends to insinuate himself into your company, but you can refuse. And if he will not be gainsaid, get Verney or his mother to send him packing.”

  Sophie shrugged. “I’m not concerned about Perry.”

  Theo was obliged to be satisfied with this. Soon she would no longer be his responsibility. This chafed at him more than he would have believed possible only a short time ago. He would have said more, but held back from declaring what was in his heart. It was not his place to dash her dreams before they had begun. Nevertheless, he agonised over standing aside and only the depth of his feelings kept him silent. For a moment, he indulged in a daydream of abandoning his scruples and kissing her senseless, here and now, in full view of the ton. Tortuous, maddening desire shot through him at the thought, but seconds later, sanity returned. He could not do it. He cared for her reputation and he also cared for her too much to intervene in the reunion to come. For the time being all he could do was pray Sophie soon discovered that a childhood infatuation had not grown into love.

  They reached Hyde Park Corner all too quickly.

  Peregrine left for Limmer’s, his announcement of calling on Sophie the next morning accompanied by another smirk. Theo and Sophie followed Grey’s carriage to Sir Seymour’s house in Berkeley Square.

  When Grey halted in front of a mansion which took up one whole side of the square, Olivia gaped up at the impressive edifice and stammered out an incoherent sentence about arriving in such an unconventional manner. Only Mr Grey’s reassurances, coupled with Sophie’s, convinced Olivia to get down from the curricle and bid Sophie a temporary farewell. Grey escorted her up the steps after handing the reins to Bowyer.

  Theo, watching Lucius Grey thoughtfully, realized he must be reasonably well acquainted with Dinny and Harriet. There was no hesitation as Grey approached the house. He acknowledged with grim frustration he still didn’t know whether to trust the man. Theo would have exchanged a word or two with Sir Seymour now if his groom had been present, but he would have to be content with calling on Dinny later. When Olivia and her companion had disappeared, Theo urged his horses towards Brook Street noting how, beside him, Sophie wrung her hands and bit her lip. She directed him to number twenty-one, a three storey town house with portico entrance situated at the Hyde Park end of the street. He brought the carriage to a halt outside.

  “The knocker isn’t off the door so it appears the Verneys are in town.” Theo looked down at her, saying soberly. “This is journey’s end then. Do you want me to accompany you?”

  She put up her chin. “No. No, indeed. You’ve done more than enough already. T-Thank you for your kindness, and I’m sorry to have been such a trial.”

  “Sophie, you haven’t—”

  “I know you’ll be glad to be rid of me, but I’ve enjoyed our time together,” she pressed on, her mouth wobbling into a smile.

  “Courage, my little runaway.” His fingers curled around her hand, holding it tightly for a moment. “I’ll walk my team here until I am certain everything has been arranged. Goodbye…for now.”

  They regarded each other in silence. Her gaze was intense, her expression unreadable. He willed her to say something, anything, which would delay their parting, but she remained silent.

  The footman who had emerged from the house now stood waiting and the inevitable could no longer be denied. Sophie slid her hand from his grasp, gathered her skirts and climbed down from the carriage.

  With a last glance over her shoulder, she then walked up the steps and disappeared inside.

  After what seemed an age of tooling his horses back and forth, Theo saw the footman re-emerge. He came to Theo with a message: Lord Verney desired to speak to Miss Cavanagh’s travelling companion. Not entirely surprised, Theo advised the servant to keep his team moving and entered the house.

  He found himself in an impressive marble-floored hall. Handing his driving co
at and gloves to the butler, he was shown into a saloon on the first floor. It was fashionably decorated. Blue damask lined the walls and there were two magnificent sofas with gilt carved arms and upholstered in the same lush fabric either side of one of Mr Adam’s chimneypieces. A gilt framed mirror which reached almost the full height of the room sat above the fireplace; several invitation cards had been pushed into the corner of the frame. Two rosewood and Boulle bookcases resided along one wall and between the windows which looked out onto the street below were a pair of matching card tables.

  A gentleman studying the invitation cards turned and executed an elegant bow. Theo’s vague recollections of Lord Verney were of a slim, retiring youth who had been moderately successful in his studies and sporting pursuits. He had been heir to a significant fortune, but he had not been a member of the high flyer set and no scandals had dogged his time at Oxford. He had not troubled much about his appearance either.

  Yet the man whose cool gaze now rested on Theo was dressed with exquisite care. There was a touch of the dandy in the exaggerated cut of his coat and the height of his shirt points. There was no need of padding to accentuate his physique though. Verney’s figure was muscular and well-built, his shoulders nobly proportioned and his lightly curling, thick gold hair brushed back from his brow to reveal a handsome profile that would not have disgraced a Greek coin.

  Theo’s heart sank.

  His faintly nurtured hope that Verney had turned into a dissolute individual with bad teeth and pockmarked skin shrivelled and died. Deuce take it, Sophie could not fail to be impressed by this fellow. His appearance would confirm him as the dashing knight of her childhood.

  “It seems I have to offer you my thanks and my apologies, Mr Cavanagh,” Lord Verney began. “My thanks because Sophie has told me how you brought her to London. Naturally, I was astonished to see her.” His welcoming smile yielded to a frown as he continued. “But the extraordinary way she abandoned her home and her failure to send word on ahead was rash to say the least. She would have done better to have stayed in Bath. Her aunt and cousin cannot be as unpleasant as Sophie portrays them. They seem villains worthy of a badly written novel, which I am sure is an exaggeration. She should have considered longer before she started scampering about the country in this ridiculous fashion. Allow me to therefore extend my apologies for the inconvenience she has put you to. She always was a madcap little thing and it seems she has not outgrown her thirst for adventure, or her propensity for getting into scrapes.” He gave a faint grimace. “One might have hoped for more decorum now she is out in society.”