No one had expectations of him, and that suited him well enough.
The low rumble of masculine laughter made Bell frown. Patches of misty fog made it difficult to see, but three young men emerged on the other side of the path. He squinted and sure enough, one of them was the young man with wheat-colored hair. His friend halted and passed something around. Bell wagered it was a flask.
He inhaled as the trio disappeared from his sight. Shrugging, he figured they were at least safe from thieves and pickpockets in the garden. How they would fare guzzling whatever liquor was in the flask was another matter altogether, but they would pay for it with the bottle ache on the morrow.
A few minutes later, he ground out his cheroot. He thought of returning to the house, but he decided to indulge in one more cheroot first.
“Look, it is Lord Pembroke,” Lady Atherton said, leaning closer to Laura. “He is a widower in his early forties and has thirty thousand a year. The bald spot is unfortunate, but he is considered a good catch.”
“Thank you, but I’m not fishing,” Laura said.
Lady Atherton waved and then motioned him over.
Oh dear. Laura feared Lady Atherton was bent on a matchmaking scheme. “Lady Atherton, I am not ready for courtship. I doubt I ever will be again.”
“Of course, you will,” Lady Atherton said. “Ah, Lord Pembroke,” she said enthusiastically. “May I introduce you to my friend, Lady Chesfield. She is new to town.”
Pembroke bowed over Laura’s hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”
Laura curtsied. “And you as well, my lord.”
“Well, Pembroke,” Lady Atherton said, “you will be glad to hear that Lady Chesfield is not spoken for in the next dance.”
A hot flush spread to Laura’s face.
“Indeed, I am delighted,” he said. “Lady Chesfield, would you do me the honor?”
“Yes, of course.” Laura was mortified, but she could not refuse his request without giving insult.
When he offered his arm, she took it and strolled along with him. “I fear you may have felt coerced to dance with me,” she said.
“Not at all,” he said. “I’m delighted to dance with you, but perhaps you’re the one who isn’t happy about it.”
“Oh, not at all,” she hurriedly assured him. “I just didn’t want you to feel obliged.”
“Then I declare that both of us are happy to dance together.”
He led her to the dance floor, and she smiled as she stood across from him. But as they waited for the set to form, her thoughts raced. He really was a very nice gentleman, but Lady Atherton apparently had not taken Laura seriously about her lack of interest in remarrying. Laura knew she must make it clear to her friend that she did not welcome any matchmaking efforts. The last thing she wanted was to spend the entire season dodging eligible bachelors.
At long last, the dance started. While turning with another couple, she continued to stew over Lady Atherton’s maneuvering. Oh, why did others always think they knew what was best for one? Laura knew Lady Atherton had good intentions, but of course, she wouldn’t have thought past the marriage contracts. Laura couldn’t even imagine Justin’s reaction if she were to remarry, but she suspected he would find it embarrassing and perhaps even think he’d become a third wheel, which was foolish. He came first in her life.
What man would wish to wed a woman who would put her stepson before him?
Then there was the issue of Justin’s uncle. While she tried to reassure herself that Montclief had taken no interest in his guardianship to date, she had no idea how Justin’s uncle would react if she remarried. She was Justin’s stepmother, and if she were to remarry, Montclief might conclude his nephew was better off with blood relatives.
No, she could not risk remarrying until Justin reached his majority, even if she wanted to, which she did not. It would feel wrong to her, even though Phillip had passed four years ago. That might seem like many years to others, but to her, it was too soon to even think of it.
Or was she simply making excuses, because she was afraid of the changes that would occur in the next few years when Justin reached his majority?
When the dance ended, Lord Pembroke gave her an enigmatic look. “You seem quite lost in your thoughts.”
“Oh, I beg your pardon,” she said. “I fear it’s a bad habit of mine. Do forgive me.”
“No apology is necessary,” he said. “Will you join me at the midnight supper?”
“Oh, well, I’m unsure where my stepson is,” she said. “Perhaps I should locate him.”
Lord Pembroke regarded her with an indulgent smile. “I find your concern for him so refreshing, even though he is almost grown.”
Physically, he was grown, but mentally, he’d gotten rather rebellious, but that was not something she would discuss with Lord Pembroke.
“I won’t keep you overly long,” Lord Pembroke said. “At any rate, I suspect your stepson is in the dining room at this instant, wolfing down some of Lady Atherton’s famous delicacies.”
“Perhaps you’re correct,” she said.
“I’m sure I am. Young men always have healthy appetites,” Lord Pembroke said, raising his voice to be heard above the crowd sounds that had increased in volume as everyone headed toward the door.
She let Pembroke escort her and told herself it was foolish to keep worrying about her stepson. Undoubtedly, she would find him downstairs with everyone else. At the moment, the guests were converging toward the ballroom doors, and the crowd was moving at the proverbial snail’s pace. She tried craning her head in an effort to spot Justin, but it was useless in this packed room. Laura reminded herself that he was seventeen not seven, and that he was far less likely to find trouble at a ball than on the public streets of London.
Perhaps it was time to loosen the invisible leading strings that she’d symbolically attached to Justin. Yes, he’d made a mistake the night before last when he’d clearly imbibed spirits, but she mustn’t get in the habit of suspecting him of some transgression all of the time. That road would only lead to constant disagreements and bickering, something she hoped to avoid. At the same time, however, he needed to demonstrate good judgment and prove he was trustworthy.
Eventually, they descended the last of the steps and made their slow way to the dining room. Laura began to think ton balls were more of a nuisance than a pleasure, with so many people gathered in one house. Lady Atherton had told her that a huge crowd at a ball was considered a smashing success. Perhaps for the hostess, Laura thought, but not necessarily for the guests.
“Ah, here we go,” Lord Pembroke said. “The dining room doors are wide open now.”
Once they entered, she drank a cup of punch with Lord Pembroke and nibbled at a slice of cake. She kept watching the doorway, hoping Justin would appear, but twenty minutes later, she concluded that he was not coming to the dining room.
“Lord Pembroke, please excuse me,” Laura said. “I believe my stepson is still upstairs.”
He stood and helped her to rise. “May I be of assistance?”
“No, thank you for the offer, but I don’t want to disturb you.” She also didn’t want to encourage the man, and, more important, she suspected Justin would react in a churlish manner when she found him. If that happened, Laura did not want any witnesses about.
She started up the stairs, hoping to find Justin and his friends in one of the adjoining drawing rooms. When she entered the ballroom, she saw four middle-aged ladies huddled together. They eyed her progress as she passed, but she couldn’t be bothered with them at the moment.
When she checked the small blue drawing room, she found several gentlemen standing before the fire. They turned toward her and one of them let his eyes rove over her person. She whirled around and looked into the room with red flocked wallpaper, but it was empty.
Laura let out an exasperated sigh as she returned to the ballroom. Where could he be? As she neared a door, she remembered seeing gentlemen walking into the room earlier.
Lady Atherton had said it was designated as a card room, but she allowed only gentlemen to play as she was old-fashioned and thought women should not participate in gambling.
The thought of deep play made Laura pause. She feared Justin might have decided to try his hand at gaming. If there was anything that could suddenly make Montclief recall his guardianship, it would pertain to money or the loss thereof.
Laura worried her hands. She couldn’t just invade the card room, but if Justin was gambling, she meant to stop him immediately. Eventually, she found a footman stacking glasses onto a tray. “Sir, may I trouble you?” she asked.
The footman nodded. “Of course, my lady.”
“I’m looking for my stepson and believe he may be in the card room. Could you please inquire if Lord Chesfield is present?”
“Yes, my lady,” the footman said. “May I say who is asking?”
“Lady Chesfield.”
Afterward, she found a chair near the card room door and perched on the edge of it. Masculine voices rumbled as the footman opened the door. He didn’t even bother to shut it as he called out. “Is Lord Chesfield present?”
“Who wants to know?” one man called out and laughed.
“Lady Chesfield,” the footman answered.
Laura winced at the chuckles that followed.
The footman shut the door. “He is not present, my lady.”
“Thank you.” She descended the stairs. Perhaps by now Justin and his friends had gone to the dining room. When she reached it, two footmen stood on either side of the doors. “I beg your pardon,” she said to one of them. “Did either of you see three young men enter?”
“My lady, we saw a number of gentlemen tonight, but we just now took our post here.”
She walked inside the dining room, but after a few minutes, she realized that Justin and his friends were not there. Frustration built inside her as she quit the dining room. Once again, she prevailed upon the footmen. “I’ve searched upstairs for the young men to no avail. Do you have any idea where they might have gone?”
“You could check the garden,” the other footman said. “The corridor is this way, my lady.”
“Thank you. I believe I can see myself out,” she said.
The footman lit a candle in the corridor, and Laura hurried through to the back of the house. She told herself to keep her temper in check, because the young men had probably just decided to go outside for a bit. But why?
She recalled the smell of spirits on Justin’s breath last night, and suspected they were imbibing again. Oh, she would make him very, very sorry for disobeying.
Periodically, Bell heard the low laughter of the three young bucks. At one point, he was absolutely certain that one of them was pissing in the garden. By now, Bell was weary of the entire ball and the foolish young men he kept encountering. He inhaled from his cheroot one last time and put it out.
Then the door to the back of the house creaked open and shut.
Bell wondered if a pair of lovers meant to sneak out for a few kisses or more when he heard a feminine voice call out.
“Justin?”
The three bucks suddenly grew silent. Bell couldn’t decide if he ought to expose them or not. In the end, he kept silent, since they weren’t his responsibility.
The unknown lady’s slippers crunched on the gravel path. A misty fog settled near the ground, obscuring the objects in the garden.
“Justin? If you’re out here, please let me know.”
She was nearing Bell, but he wasn’t sure if she could see him or not.
Then she stepped out of the shadowy mist, right before him. In the flash of the lantern, he recognized her as the blond lady. God, even in this dim light, she was stunning.
She gazed right at him and gasped.
“Wait,” he said. “Allow me to assist you.”
“No.” She backed up. Then she lifted her skirts, whirled around, and took off running as if she’d seen Lucifer waiting to snatch her.
He started after her, but his footsteps slowed. She’d said the one word every man should respect. No.
The low rumble of masculine voices sounded again. Bell released a long sigh as he watched the trio creep back toward the house like thieves in the night. They paused about five feet from the door and passed the flask around. Good lord, they were brazen.
Eventually, they stumbled inside the mansion, and made no attempt to hide their laughter.
Bell wiped the dampness off the shoulders of his coat and strolled back to the house. He might as well return home, since he’d struck out on finding a mistress. Tomorrow, he would think of a new plan.
He strode through the corridor, noting someone had lit a candle. When he emerged, he heard a cacophony of voices coming from the dining room. He had no wish to make himself agreeable to anyone else this evening.
Bell crossed the great hall on his way to the foyer, but halted beside the stairwell upon hearing a feminine voice from the staircase. “Justin?”
He couldn’t see her from this vantage point.
He heard an odd sound beneath the stairwell. Bell looked underneath in time to see a young man pushing a flask beneath it with his heel. Then footsteps clipped. “I’m here,” the young man, said walking to the bottom of the staircase.
Bell noted he was the one with the golden hair.
“Where have you been?” the woman said in a stern tone. “I’ve looked everywhere for you.”
“Oh, we just moved about the ballroom and the adjoining rooms,” he said.
What an accomplished liar he was, Bell thought.
“Your face is flushed,” the blond woman said as she descended. “I hope you haven’t been drinking with your friends again.”
“Always suspicious,” he said.
“It’s late, and I wish to return home,” she said.
A few minutes later, their voices receded.
Footsteps alerted him. He turned as Lady Atherton regarded him with a knowing smile. “Are you in the habit of listening to others’ conversations, Bellingham?”
“Not if I can help it. And you?”
“I’m just the hostess of this grand squeeze,” she said.
“Who is she?” he asked.
Lady Atherton took a deep breath and slowly released it. “She’s not for the likes of you, Bell.”
He recalled the way she’d stared at him earlier with parted lips, and that made him even more determined. “I didn’t ask if she was for me. I asked for her name.”
Lady Atherton shook her head. “Leave her be, Bellingham. She’s a widow with a boy to rear. You want no part of her life.”
“I’m afraid I am part of it, unwillingly,” he said. Privately, he realized she was the widow his friends had mentioned, but he said nothing of that to Lady Atherton. He reached beneath the stairwell and retrieved the flask. “You see, I believe she needs to know her son is lying through his teeth.”
“Oh dear. She did say he was at a trying age.”
“That, I believe is an understatement. I need her name.” He knew he wouldn’t rest until he found her.
Lady Atherton sighed and held out her hand. “Give the flask to me, and I’ll see that it’s returned.”
“He’s taking advantage of her. Someone needs to put the fear of the devil in that boy, and she lacks the fortitude to do it.”
Lady Atherton’s eyes widened. “And you think you’re the one to do it? Hah!”
“I’m an eyewitness.” He paused and added, “I want her name.”
“Only if you swear this is only about the boy,” she said.
He felt victorious, but he hid it. “Her name and address, please.”
Lady Atherton hesitated again. “Her name is Laura Davenport. That’s Lady Chesfield to you,” she said, her expression sharp. “Her address is number ten, Grosvenor Square. And Bellingham, I meant what I said. She’s a respectable widow and not for the likes of a rakehell like you.”
He knew she would be a challenge, but she would surrender. �
�She’s incredibly naïve where that boy is concerned,” Bell said.
Lady Atherton clasped her hands. “Well, I agree he ought to have more respect for his stepmother.”
He bowed. “Thank you for an interesting evening.” Then he strode out the door.
Virginia Holt, better known as Lady Atherton, could hardly contain herself after the encounter with Bellingham, but of course, she would keep this occurrence a secret. Oh, but what a coup this exchange had been.
He was intrigued by Laura, though he hid it very well, but equally interesting was his intervention with the young man. Of course, Justin needed a strong male influence in his life, but his uncle was too lazy to do his duty by the boy. That was just as well, because if Montclief ever decided to exercise his rights as guardian, Laura would have to give the boy up.
It would crush her, of course, because she dearly loved the young man.
How very, very interesting that Bellingham wanted to step in and aid Laura. Of course, she would balk, but at some point, she might well need to rely on Bellingham for help.
Virginia had trouble containing her smile. Undoubtedly, Bellingham believed he was doing it only for the boy’s sake. No, he wasn’t the sort to involve himself in the affairs of others, unless there was something in it for him. He’d done it purely to wedge his very large boot inside her door. The man was coldblooded and merciless when he wanted something.
And Virginia would wager a small fortune that he wanted Laura. Of course, she would have to protect and advise her protégé. A man like Bellingham would run roughshod over a woman who was ill prepared to handle him, but Virginia wasn’t one to let an opportunity pass. Of course, she must keep her plans a secret and even pretend to disapprove of any relationship between them.
If there was one thing Virginia understood, it was that people, men in particular, always wanted forbidden fruit. And Laura, a respectable lady, represented a challenge. Ah, yes, a very proper widow and a ruthless rake would make a very combustible couple. But oh, what a wonderful way to burn.
A Season for Sin Page 7