Deception

by Amanda Quick

  “I know. Damnation. This would have to happen.”

  “I put ’em in the front parlor.”

  “Tell them I am ill, Mrs. Bird.”

  Mrs. Bird drew herself up with the air of a general going into battle. “Ye’ll have to see ’em or they’ll wonder what’s goin’ on. We can handle this.”

  “Not without Chillhurst.”

  “Yes we can,” Mrs. Bird nodded resolutely. “We’ll pretend yer the viscountess. They’ll never know the difference.”

  “Good grief, what a tangle. I am not up to dealing with this disaster, Mrs. Bird.”

  “Don’t ye worry none. I’ll take care of everything. Oh, here, the gentleman gave me their cards.”

  “Let me see them.” Olympia took the cards, glanced at them, and groaned. “Lady Beaumont, Lady Kirkdale, and someone named Gifford Seaton.”

  “I’ll fetch tea,” Mrs. Bird said. “Don’t fret. I’ll remember to address ye as yer ladyship in front of yer guests.”

  She rushed from the room before Olympia could find a way to stop her.

  With a sense of impending doom, Olympia went slowly down the hall to the front parlor. She wished Jared would miraculously arrive and deal with the situation. He was always so good at dealing with situations.

  It occurred to her that if she did not convince him to carry on with their romantic liaison, he would probably leave and she would be obliged to handle these annoying interruptions on her own.

  Of course, dealing with the details of daily life would constitute the least of her problems, she thought gloomily. When Jared left, her heart was going to break. She would not have the least notion of how to repair it.

  Demetria and Constance were seated on opposite ends of the sofa. Dressed in blue and primrose, respectively, they formed an elegant tableau that was singularly out of place in the modest parlor.

  A handsome man who appeared to be a couple of years younger than Olympia stood near the window. His hair was the same shade of blond as Demetria’s. He was dressed in the first stare of fashion with an intricately tied cravat, pleated trousers, and a well-cut coat that was cropped at the waist.

  “Lady Chillhurst.” Demetria smiled serenely from the sofa but her cool eyes were bright with speculation. “You made the acquaintance of my very good friend, Lady Kirkdale, yesterday, I believe. Allow me to present my brother, Gifford Seaton.”

  “Mr. Seaton.” Olympia inclined her head the way she had seen Jared do so often.

  “Lady Chillhurst.” Gifford smiled as he walked toward her with languid grace. He took Olympia’s hand, bent over it, and brushed his lips lightly across her skin. “It is a great pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

  “Gifford insisted on paying this call,” Demetria said blandly. “Constance and I decided to come with him.”

  Gifford was gazing raptly at Olympia. “You are not at all what I expected from my sister’s description, madam.”

  “What on earth is that supposed to mean?” Olympia retrieved her hand. Her headache was making her irritable, she thought. She wished all of these beautifully dressed people would depart and leave her alone.

  “I did not mean to offend you, madam,” Gifford said quickly. “It is just that Demetria said you were obviously from the country and I thought perhaps you would be rather countrified in appearance. I had not expected you to be so charming.”

  “Thank you.” Olympia was not certain how to respond to the compliment. “I suppose you had best sit down, Mr. Seaton. My housekeeper is preparing tea.”

  “We shall not be staying long,” Constance said calmly. “We are only here out of curiosity, you understand.”

  Olympia eyed her uneasily. “Curiosity?”

  Demetria gave a soft trill of laughter. “You must know, my dear, that Chillhurst and I were once engaged to be married. When my brother discovered yesterday that his lordship had finally wed, he could not resist learning a bit more about you.”

  Gifford’s smile turned icy. “His lordship had very particular requirements in a wife. I was curious to see the lady who had met his very exacting specifications.”

  “I have not the least notion of what you are talking about,” Olympia said.

  Gifford sat down near the window. He seemed fascinated by Olympia. “You may as well know the facts before you go into Society, madam. ’Tis no secret that Chillhurst ended the engagement with my sister when he discovered the true state of her financial affairs. He had wrongly assumed that she was an heiress, you see.”

  “No, I do not see.” Olympia felt like a mouse surrounded by three sleek cats who were bent on toying with her before they moved in for the kill.

  Gifford’s gaze narrowed. “Chillhurst made it clear three years ago that his only requirement in a wife was that she bring him a fortune.”

  “Gifford, please.” Demetria gave her brother a repressive glance and then smiled wryly at Olympia. “Chillhurst bears a noble title, but even his own family admits that he has the heart of a merchant.”

  “With Chillhurst everything must come down to business,” Gifford said sullenly.

  “Now, Gifford, I am certain Lady Chillhurst suits him very well,” Constance said, not unkindly. “She appears to be a very practical creature, herself.”

  “What makes you say that?” Olympia asked, startled. No one had ever called her practical.

  Gifford frowned. “Well, it’s obvious, is it not? You must have a fortune, else Chillhurst would never have married you. And lord knows he controls a bloody fortune. Yet he’s got you tucked away here in an extremely unfashionable part of town.” His gaze dismissed her plain muslin gown. “Furthermore, it’s clear you do not spend much money on your clothes. One can only assume you have a fine sense of economy, madam.”

  “Chillhurst would appreciate that.” Demetria’s smile did not reach her eyes and her voice had a brittle quality. “I do believe he feared that I would spend his fortune into the ground. And he was very probably right. I must admit I do like pretty things.”

  Constance gave her an amused little smile. “Yes, you do, Demetria. And pretty things tend to be expensive.”

  “But they are worth every penny,” Demetria said.

  Gifford’s eyes flickered unpleasantly. “Chillhurst has plenty of money. The man’s rich as Croesus. He did not need to marry a fortune.”

  Olympia opened her mouth on an angry protest, but stopped when she caught the uneasy look Demetria exchanged with Constance.

  With a flash of intuition Olympia suddenly comprehended the reason for the tension in the air. Demetria and her friend had not wanted to come here today. They were present in a vain effort to control Gifford. The man seethed with anger and pent-up frustration and all of the intense emotion appeared to be directed at Jared.

  Olympia grew thoughtful.

  Demetria rushed to distract attention from Gifford’s rudeness. “You must forgive my brother. He is still smarting a bit even after all these years because Chillhurst very sensibly refused his challenge.”

  Olympia nearly stopped breathing. She stared at Demetria for an instant and then turned to Gifford. “Never tell me that you challenged Chillhurst to a duel?”

  “No offense, madam, but I had no choice.” Gifford got up restlessly and strode to the window. “He treated my sister in a most shabby fashion. I was forced to issue a challenge.”

  “Now, Gifford.” Demetria shot her brother another uneasy glance. “There is no need to go into that old subject. It has been three years, after all, and I am happily married to another.”

  Olympia eyed Gifford’s stiff shoulders. “I am certain there must be more to the story than you are telling me, Mr. Seaton.”

  Gifford shrugged. “I assure you, there is not. After Chillhurst ended the engagement, I called him out. Told him that as far as I was concerned, he had grossly insulted Demetria.”

  Demetria sighed softly. Constance touched her arm in a silent, comforting gesture.

  “What did Chillhurst say when you accused hi
m of insulting your sister?” Olympia asked curiously.

  “He very properly offered his apologies,” Demetria said smoothly. “Is that not right, Gifford?”

  “Yes, damn him. That is exactly what he did. Offered his apologies and said he would not meet me on the field of honor. Bloody coward, that’s what he is.”

  “Gifford, you should not say such things in front of Lady Chillhurst,” Demetria said with a touch of desperation.

  “Pay attention to your sister,” Constance murmured.

  “I’m only telling Lady Chillhurst the facts,” Gifford stormed. “She ought to know the sort of man she married.”

  Olympia stared at Gifford. “Have you gone mad? My husband is no coward.”

  “Of course he’s not,” Demetria said quickly. “No one would dream of accusing Chillhurst of cowardice.”

  “Bah.” Gifford’s mouth tightened. “He’s a coward, right enough.”

  Constance groaned. “I told you that it was not wise to accompany your brother on this call, Demetria.”

  “What was I supposed to do?” Demetria asked half under her breath. “He was bound and determined to come here today.”

  Olympia’s headache was getting worse. “I believe I have had quite enough of entertaining callers this afternoon. I wish all of you would leave.”

  Demetria made soothing noises. “Please forgive my brother, Lady Chillhurst. He is of a hot-blooded temperament and quite protective of me. Gifford, you promised you would not cause a scene. Please apologize to Lady Chillhurst.”

  Gifford narrowed his eyes. “I will not apologize for the truth, Demetria.”

  “Apologize for your sister’s sake, if nothing else,” Constance said coolly. “I’m certain that none of us wants that old gossip resurrected. It will only cause a great deal of grief for all concerned.” She paused delicately. “Beaumont would not be at all pleased to hear it.”

  Olympia noticed that the last comment appeared to have some effect. Gifford gave his sister and Constance a look of simmering frustration. Then he reluctantly turned to Olympia and inclined his head in a small bow.

  “My apologies, madam.”

  Olympia had had enough. “I am not concerned with your apologies. As it happens, I am quite busy today. If you do not mind—”

  “Do not think ill of us, Lady Chillhurst.” Demetria adjusted her gloves. “It was all rather unpleasant at the time, but I have told Gifford often enough that what happened three years ago was for the best. Is that not correct, Constance?”

  “Quite correct,” Constance said. “If Chillhurst had not cried off the engagement, Demetria would never have married Beaumont. And I am convinced that she is far happier with him than she would ever have been with Chillhurst.”

  “There is no question about it.” Demetria looked at Olympia. “Beaumont has been very good to me, madam. I am quite satisfied with my choice of husbands. I would not have you believing that I am pining after Chillhurst. Nothing could be further from the truth.”

  Gifford swore softly.

  Olympia’s head was throbbing very badly now. She wondered how a proper viscountess went about getting rid of unwanted guests in the parlor. She wished Chillhurst would return. He would know what to do.

  “Tea, madam,” Mrs. Bird announced from the doorway in her new, stentorian accents. “Shall I pour?”

  Olympia looked up, grateful for the interruption. “Thank you, Mrs. Bird.”

  Mrs. Bird beamed as she lumbered triumphantly into the parlor. She clutched a massive tray ladened with what appeared to be every single piece of the ancient tea service that had come with the house. A smaller woman would have collapsed beneath the weight of the heavy, chipped crockery.

  She set the tray down on a small table and went to work with a great deal of energy. Cups and saucers clattered. Spoons clashed.

  Demetria and Constance eyed the tea tray and Mrs. Bird with some trepidation. Gifford’s smile was derisive.

  Olympia decided to make another attempt to clear the parlor of intruders.

  “Do you know,” she announced with grim determination, “I have not been feeling at all well this afternoon. I do not particularly care what the rest of you do, but I am going upstairs to my bedchamber immediately.”

  Everyone turned to gaze at her in astonishment.

  “Here now, I just brung the tea,” Mrs. Bird complained in an aggrieved tone. She hefted the heavy pot. “Ain’t no one leavin’ here until they’ve had a proper cup.”

  “I do not believe we have time for tea,” Demetria said quickly. She rose from the sofa.

  “No, indeed.” Constance got to her feet. “We must be on our way.”

  “Don’t ye fret, I’ll pour it real quick-like.” Mrs. Bird filled one of the cups and shoved it at Demetria. “Here ye go.”

  Demetria automatically reached for the cup and saucer. She failed to get a grip on it before Mrs. Bird let go of it.

  The cup teetered and toppled. Tea splashed on Demetria’s lovely blue gown. She gave a soft cry and stepped back hurriedly.

  “Oh, dear,” Olympia said in resignation.

  “This gown was delivered only yesterday.” Demetria brushed angrily at the damp spots. “It cost a fortune.”

  Constance produced a lacy white handkerchief and started to dab at the stains on Demetria’s gown. “It’s all right, Demetria. Beaumont will buy you a dozen new gowns.”

  “That is hardly the point, Constance.” Demetria gave Mrs. Bird a disgusted glance. “The woman is incompetent, Lady Chillhurst. Why on earth do you tolerate her on your staff?”

  “Mrs. Bird is an excellent housekeeper,” Olympia said loyally.

  “’Course I am.” Mrs. Bird waved the teapot in a threatening manner. “I work for a genuine viscount, don’t I?” Tea splashed onto the carpet.

  “Good lord,” Constance said with awed amusement. “This is really quite extraordinary. Wait until we see our friends at the Newburys’ card party this evening. They will not believe the tale.”

  “You have no right to gossip about us,” Olympia snapped. She got to her feet and gathered herself for another eviction attempt.

  A series of loud yelps sounded out in the hall.

  Hugh’s voice called from the top of the stairs. “Come back up here, Minotaur. Here, boy. Come back.”

  A loud, piercing whistle followed. Dog claws scrabbled on the wooden floor.

  An instant later Minotaur bounded into the parlor. The dog lurched forward to greet Olympia’s guests. En route, his massive tail swiped the tea tray and sent two more cups crashing to the floor.

  “Bloody hell,” Mrs. Bird grumbled. “Now I’ll have to fetch some more.”

  “Do not bother on our account,” Demetria said hastily.

  Constance reeled back in alarm as Minotaur charged the sofa. “Get that creature away from us.”

  Minotaur turned his huge head at the sound of her voice and, tongue lolling, veered toward her.

  “I say.” Gifford looked confused. He started across the room with the obvious intention of grabbing the dog’s collar.

  Minotaur barked in delight, apparently having concluded that the stranger wanted to play a game.

  Olympia heard the front door open and close. She whirled around and saw Jared step into the hall. She went to the parlor entrance and confronted him with her hands on her hips.

  “There you are, sir. It’s about time you got here.”

  “Something wrong?” Jared asked politely.

  Olympia waved a hand to encompass the noisy, chaotic scene behind her. “I wish you would do something about all these people in my parlor.”

  Jared walked forward and surveyed the room with calm interest.

  “Minotaur,” he said quietly.

  Minotaur stopped trying to dodge Gifford’s grasp and dashed across the room. He skidded to a halt in front of Jared, sat back on his haunches, and looked up for approval.

  Jared rested his hand on the top of Minotaur’s head and the dog grinned.
/>   “Go,” Jared ordered quietly. “Upstairs, Minotaur.”

  Minotaur rose obediently and trotted quickly out of the parlor.

  Jared glanced at Mrs. Bird. “Never mind the tea, Mrs. Bird.”

  “But they ain’t had any yet,” Mrs. Bird protested.

  Jared looked at Gifford with chilling politeness. “I’m quite certain that our guests do not have time for tea. You and your companions were just about to leave, were you not, Mr. Seaton?”

  Gifford gave Jared a look of smoldering dislike as he brushed dog hair off the sleeve of his coat. “Yes, as a matter of fact, we were. I’m certain we’ve all had enough of this bedlam.”

  “Good day, Lady Chillhurst,” Demetria said.

  She and Constance walked quickly toward the door. Gifford stalked after them.

  Jared stepped aside to allow everyone out of the parlor.

  Olympia saw Demetria slant a mocking glance at Jared as she went through the door.

  “You were always a rather strange sort, Chillhurst, but this household is quite remarkable, even for a member of your odd family. What on earth are you about, my lord?”

  “My domestic arrangements need not concern you, madam,” Jared said. “Do not return to this house without an invitation.”

  “Bastard,” Gifford muttered on his way out the door. “I only hope your poor wife knows what she’s gotten herself into by marrying you.”

  “Hush, Gifford,” Demetria said. “Come along. We have other calls to make this afternoon.”

  “I doubt they will be as amusing as this one,” Constance murmured.

  The visitors made their way out onto the front steps. Jared closed the door behind them without bothering to see them into their waiting carriage. He turned to Olympia.

  “You will not receive any of those three again,” he said. “Is that clear?”

  It was the last straw as far as Olympia was concerned. She stalked toward the stairs. “Do not give me orders, Chillhurst. Lest you forget, I am still the one in charge of this household and you are a member of my staff. You will kindly remember your place and behave accordingly.”