A Scandalous Past (Regency Romance, Book 4)

by Ava Stone

  “Phoebe, Mr. Greywood, have you met Lord Clayworth? Or Lord Haversham?”

  Phoebe’s azure eyes sparkled when she shook her head.

  “We’re truly sorry to interrupt,” Matthew Greywood apologized. “Phoebe saw you and was anxious to—”

  Suddenly, Phoebe found her voice. “Mother just told me the news. Please tell me you’ll ride to Norfolk with me. We’ll have so much fun catching up.”

  Norfolk? Cordie shook her head. “What news?”

  “I’m sorry?” Phoebe looked confused, which wasn’t all that different from her usual look.

  “You said your mother just told you the news. I don’t know what news you’re speaking of.”

  “Oh?” Phoebe frowned. “Well, Lady Avery said you’d both visit us at Malvern Hall for the next fortnight.”

  Cordie’s mouth fell open. Mother had told her of Mrs. Greywood’s visit this morning, but she’d neglected to mention the invitation to Norfolk. What was this about? If Phoebe knew, she’d tell her for certain. Cordie glanced back at Clayworth with what she hoped was an innocent smile. “My lord, do you mind if I walk with my friend for a moment?”

  The earl’s dark blue eyes assessed her, then he nodded tightly. “Don’t go too far, my dear.”

  She nearly groaned. Don’t go too far? Did he think she was a child? She was a full-grown woman of twenty and didn’t need his directives. “Of course not,” she answered with a fraudulent smile.

  Matthew Greywood stepped forward and lifted Cordie in the air, placing her safely on the ground. “There you are, Miss Avery.”

  She smiled a thanks to the man who was now too busy to notice her, his interest suddenly enraptured with Clayworth’s flashy phaeton. Before she could link arms with Phoebe, a strong arm snaked around her waist. She turned and smiled up at Haversham. How had she not noticed him dismount? “My lord,” she whispered, “there are too many people about.”

  “I’ll have to figure out a way to get you all alone.” He slowly released her, and offered her his arm. The promise of his words made her giddy and breathless all at once. He turned his heart-stopping smile on Phoebe. “May I escort the two most beautiful women in the park?”

  Phoebe giggled, and quickly took his empty arm. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lord.”

  “Just think of me as an old friend of the family. Commander Greywood is an old companion of mine.”

  Phoebe grinned. “Mother thinks Uncle Simon is too reckless.”

  Haversham laughed, a rich sound that made Cordie’s heart flutter. She was completely smitten with the man. What a glorious feeling. He towed her closer to him, and she reveled in the feel of the muscles of his arm. He was perfect.

  The marquess glanced down at her and winked before turning his attention back to Phoebe. “So, you are taking my Miss Avery to Norfolk?”

  “Y-your Miss Avery?” Phoebe squeaked.

  Cordie flushed, too embarrassed to look at her friend.

  “Mmm,” Haversham answered as they stepped towards a copse of trees. “I don’t know how I’ll go on without her for an entire fortnight.”

  “Oh, my,” Phoebe replied breathlessly.

  He smiled down at her, a charming rogue in every way. “You don’t mind allowing me a few moments alone with her, do you?”

  He was good, or wicked, depending on one’s view of him. There was no way romantically minded Phoebe would turn him down. They stopped walking and her friend gaped, open-mouthed. “Cordie?”

  This was her one chance. Who knew when she would see the marquess again? “Please, Phoeb?”

  Phoebe nodded her head and looked back around the bend they had just taken. “I don’t think they can see us from here. But don’t go too far.”

  Phoebe had barely finished her sentence before Haversham whisked Cordie behind a tree. She blinked up at him, an appreciative smile tugging at her lips. In less than a second, his hands were planted on her waist and he loomed over her. “What,” he whispered in her ear, “are you doing with Clayworth, angel?”

  Cordie swallowed nervously, placing her hands on his firm, powerful chest. “I wasn’t given a choice in the matter.”

  He grinned at that. “Not your cup of tea, is he?”

  She shook her head.

  “Too stuffy?” he asked, slowly lowering his head.

  She nodded.

  “Too noble?” he whispered across her lips, and Cordie was certain her heart was about to pound right out of her chest.

  “I don’t want to think about him,” she admitted, desperately wanting Haversham’s lips to touch hers more than anything.

  He apparently read the need in her eyes, as his smile vanished and he leaned closer. His cheroot scented breath washed over her, and Cordie closed her eyes, more than ready for his kiss.

  An instant later, his hands left her waist and his chest disappeared from beneath her fingertips. “Agh!” came his masculine complaint.

  Cordie blinked her eyes wide. Haversham was on the ground five feet away from her with Clayworth standing over him, fire in his twilight eyes. Then the earl scowled at her. “You, back to my phaeton!”

  She hated being ordered about. Over the last few weeks she’d had to follow every stricture from her mother. She’d been kept from her dearest friend. She’d been made a prisoner in her own home. She hadn’t enjoyed one moment of freedom—except for those few moments she’d spent in Haversham’s company. The Earl of Clayworth would not dictate to her.

  Hands on her hips, she glared back at him. “You’re not my keeper.”

  He stalked towards her, tightly grasping her arm in his hands. “You are under my care until I return you to your mother’s doorstep. If you want to throw yourself at every scoundrel in Town, you’ll have to do so on your own time.”

  Clayworth pulled her back through the copse and into the open park. Cordie struggled to free her arm. The earl only increased his pace, and Cordie couldn’t catch one glimpse of Haversham or Phoebe. In no time, they reached Clayworth’s phaeton and he tossed her into the seat, anger rolling off him.

  After he took his spot on the seat and began directing his bays out of the park, Cordie chanced a glance at him. Clayworth’s sculpted lips were drawn up tight, his eyes focused on the path ahead of them. A muscle twitched in his jaw, and Cordie felt unexplainably guilty, which was hard to understand. She didn’t owe the earl anything. She didn’t even like him. She never had. What did she care that he was angry?

  “Are you going to mention this to my mother?” she finally asked as they crossed Park Lane.

  Clayworth’s head whipped towards her, fury flashing from his eyes. “Am I going to mention that I allowed the most depraved man in the country to abscond with you? I’d rather not.”

  “I don’t think he’s depraved at all.”

  Clayworth shook his head and refocused on the street. “I don’t believe you’re thinking at all.”

  They rode the rest of the way in silence, neither of them looking at the other. Cordie had never been more relieved than when she entered her house and Lord Clayworth said his goodbyes. Thankfully, he didn’t mention Haversham, which was a blessing.

  ***

  Brendan tossed the reigns to a footman before bounding up the steps of his Hertford Street home. He’d never been so close to throttling a woman in his life. He would have liked nothing better than to tell Lady Avery what a fool she had for a daughter, but figured that wouldn’t help his case to search Avery House. If they were indeed going to Norfolk for a couple weeks, perhaps he could search the place without anyone ever knowing. He had always been a master at maintaining his control, but every second he spent in Cordelia Avery’s presence tested that control to its extremes.

  His large, oak door opened before his foot even landed on the last step, and Higgins met him with questioning look. This was odd. His butler generally hid behind an unflappable façade.

  “Yes, Higgins?” he asked with a raised brow.

  “Lord Clayworth, you have a guest,”
the butler replied as he shut the door behind him.

  Another one? He’d never been particularly social. When had he become so popular? “Well?”

  “Lady Staveley is in the blue salon, my lord, and she…” His voice faded.

  Brendan shook his head impatiently. “Spit it out, Higgins. She what?”

  “W-well,” the old man stammered, “she’s taken over. Ordering everyone about.”

  With a sigh, Brendan shook his head. He wasn’t remotely surprised. Whenever Caroline went anywhere, she took over. “Well, that’s what she does, Higgins,” he replied, dismissing his butler, and he started down the corridor. What was Caroline doing here of all places? Didn’t she have someone else’s life to manipulate and manage? Her pariah of a cousin, for example?

  Brendan opened the door of the blue salon, and his jaw dropped open. The room was completely barren. No chairs, no settee, no writing desk. The faded portraits had been removed from the walls, leaving dark spots where they’d once hung. All that was left was an Aubusson rug and dull draperies, which Caroline was examining.

  “This will have to go too,” she said to a harried young maid. Brendan didn’t know the girl’s name, but she was disheveled from top to bottom, a weary expression across her rather plain face.

  After the day he’d had so far, this was beyond the pale. Brendan stepped over the threshold and slammed the door behind him, causing the glass in the windows to shake. He’d never known such impertinence in all his days. What did she think she was doing?

  Undaunted, Caroline spun around to greet him with a welcoming smile.

  He glared at her, then nodded curtly at the maid. “You’re excused.”

  When the maid bustled out of the room, Caroline beamed at him. “Brendan Reese, I absolutely adore you!”

  ~ 7 ~

  Caroline quickly crossed the room and threw her arms around Brendan, hugging him tightly before releasing him and grinning unrepentantly. “And to think I was so certain that you would be the most difficult one in the bunch.” Words flew from her mouth with lightening speed. “Even more so than Robert, and you know how difficult he can be. I must admit, I was worried about the situation last night—but you pressed forward, didn’t you!”

  “Caro—”

  She paid him no attention and continued to gush, “I did of course have an ulterior motive in calling you down from Derbyshire, as you’ve probably realized by now. I was beyond anxious when that awful scene broke out at my ball. And then when Livvie said she was looking for a man like Kelfield… Well, I thought for certain it had all been for nothing.”

  “Caroline—” he tried again.

  “A man like Kelfield! Can you believe it? Nothing could be further from the truth. But you didn’t let him have her, did you? Wonderful! Marvelous. You have exceeded my expectations, darling! I knew at the end of last season she was perfect for you. Not a shrinking violet. A girl that could hold her own against you, when needs be. But when it seemed she was about to be engaged to that naval captain, it broke my heart. Not that he didn’t seem like an all right sort, but… Well, he isn’t you.”

  “Caroline!” he bellowed. What the devil was she going on about?

  She blinked at him, a frown settling on her pretty face. “Yes, darling?”

  “What have you done to my salon?” That was as good a place as any to start. After all, he was fairly accustomed to her ramblings. Whenever she was excited, she always gushed until she ran out of strength. Though he had no idea what had her so giddy today.

  Caroline’s hazel eyes twinkled mischievously. “Well, after visiting with Gladys Avery this morning and she told me the wonderful news, I thought I would come and congratulate you in person. A note is too informal, don’t you think?”

  Gladys Avery? A cold chill crept along Brendan’s spine, as the reason for Caroline’s visit began to sink in. “Too informal?” he echoed.

  “I’m so glad you agree,” she gushed. “So, that butler of yours, who is quite a disagreeable fellow by the way, brought me in here after I insisted on waiting. And honestly, darling, if this is the best room in the house you have for entertaining, you are in desperate need of a refurbishment. Stuffing was actually coming out of the settee. Did you know that?”

  He didn’t know that, actually. It was so rare that he was in London, or that he entertained. But that was neither here nor there. What the devil was he doing listening to this anyway? “For God’s sake, Caroline, you can’t go around tearing people’s rooms apart.”

  Caroline pouted. “I’m not tearing it apart. I’m fixing it. If you’re going to entertain the Averys you can’t do so in this room. It just wouldn’t do. And since Juliet has so meticulously refurbished Prestwick Chase, I know just the right people to help with this mess.” Her hands gestured in a wide sweeping motion to encompass the whole room.

  “It wasn’t a mess until you touched it… And I have no intention of entertaining the Averys.” The less he saw of them the better.

  She pursed her lips. “Blast you, Brendan. You are going to be difficult, after all.”

  He raked a hand through his hair and began to pace around the desolate salon. “What are you after, Caroline?” he asked, though in his heart he already knew the answer. Caroline Staveley liked nothing better than matchmaking. He’d watched her over the years, always in awe at her abilities in this realm. She rarely, if ever, failed.

  “You need a wife, Brendan.”

  There it was.

  He groaned, stopped his pacing, and leveled her with his iciest stare. “I had one, and I have no intention of ever replacing her.” Honestly, with everything else he had to worry about, the last thing he needed was to marry some girl. Not even a girl who made his pulse race or his breeches embarrassingly uncomfortable, though finding Miss Avery in Haversham’s arms had certainly dashed a bucket of cold water on that problem.

  Caroline crossed the room in just a few strides, an understanding smile upon her face. “You don’t have to pretend with me, you know. I remember Marina and I know what she put you through.”

  She was one of the few who did. But Brendan didn’t want to have this conversation, so he shook his head. “Get my salon back the way it was, Caro. Settee missing its stuffing and all.”

  “Be reasonable,” she pleaded. “Livvie is beside herself with worry for Cordelia—something she doesn’t need at the moment. And—”

  “I am not going to marry or even court some foolish girl simply to put your cousin’s troubled mind at ease,” he interrupted, narrowing his eyes on her. Then he started for the door. “I trust you can put this room to rights and then see yourself out.”

  Just as he opened the door, just as he was almost free of her, Caroline’s words stopped him in his tracks. “I don’t want her to end up like Flora.”

  Brendan’s breath whooshed out of him. He rarely thought about his sweet, naïve sister, ruined by a handsome rogue, who lost her will to live once the bastard used her. After the birth of her son, Flora didn’t have any fight in her, and she simply withered away until there was nothing left of her. He growled as he looked back over his shoulder at Caroline. “I’m not Miss Avery’s guardian. She has brothers of her own.”

  “None of whom are in Town. Gladys keeps her locked up in Avery House. She won’t even allow her to correspond with Livvie, for heaven’s sake. She is so convinced her daughter’s future will be marred, she doesn’t allow her any freedoms at all. But Cordelia is clever and determined. If she thinks that scoundrel is her version of Kelfield, she’ll flee the nest and she’ll be forever ruined, Brendan, and you know that as well as I.”

  Cordelia Avery did seem intent on ruining herself. He’d seen evidence of it with his very eyes. But what was he to do about it? She wasn’t anything to him except a lovely irritant. “I don’t meddle in other’s lives, Caroline.”

  She crossed the room to his side, reaching out her hand to him. “Haversham is fickle. He’ll lose interest in her as soon as some pretty lightskirt crosses his path, but
by that time it could be too late for Cordelia.”

  A muscle twitched in Brendan’s jaw. Miss Avery was so full of life, just as Flora had been. Damn Caroline for bringing his late sister into this.

  “You took her riding in the park today. If not to court her, what was your intent?” she asked, her hazel eyes assessing him.

  All he needed was Caroline looking into his motivations. He almost winced, but kept his features relaxed. She would notice that, and he couldn’t risk the questions that would surely follow. “She caught my interest last night,” he replied honestly.

  A relieved smile lit Caroline’s lips. “I knew it. I could tell the way you looked at her when you danced. Oh, darling, I will be happy to help. Whatever you need.”

  “My salon back in its original state?” he asked, hoping to lighten the mood.

  She smacked his chest. “Not on your life. It’ll be perfect in no time.”

  Brendan rolled his eyes. At least he wouldn’t have to think of Marina whenever he walked in here, and if Caroline was busy refurbishing his salon, perhaps he could keep her from paying too much attention to his courtship with Miss Avery. There wasn’t a way around that situation. Not that he could see anyway.

  ***

  Cordie stared up at the yellow canopy over her bed. She still couldn’t believe that Clayworth hadn’t told her mother. Not that she wasn’t grateful—she was. She just couldn’t understand it. He’d been so furious with her. Very strange. What did he care anyway?

  Was he serious about courting her?

  Because she could never accept him. Perhaps if she didn’t know how abysmally he’d treated Marina, perhaps if she didn’t know he was incapable of affection, perhaps if Marcus Gray hadn’t stumbled into her life… But she did know what an awful husband he’d been, she did know he was cold and unfeeling, and Marcus Gray had swept her off her feet. It was pointless to continue worrying about Clayworth or spend any more time thinking about him.