by Diane Gaston
Nicholas’s wife reached Leo first. It was evident she was expecting another child, news probably given to him the day before but not recalled.
‘It is so wonderful to see you!’ she cried, clasping his hands.
He leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. ‘Emily. You look as beautiful as ever.’ He glanced at her. ‘I hope you are feeling well.’
‘Very well, thank you.’ She smiled.
Nicholas’s expression turned serious. ‘Are you in any trouble? You know I will help you in any way I can.’
Leo resented the assumption. ‘No trouble. And if I were in trouble, I would not come running to my brothers.’
‘No, you never did,’ admitted Nicholas. ‘But we always found out, did we not? And were there to help.’
Nicholas would never know what Leo had faced in the last two years and how well he’d managed on his own, but he gave his brother a grudging nod.
Nicholas clapped his hands. ‘Then you have reconsidered our gift? Welbourne Manor is yours again for the asking. We can easily help you get back on your feet. Begin stocking your stables.’
Leo clamped his mouth shut lest he say something that would only lead to a shouting match.
Emily stepped in. ‘Nicholas, enough!’ She pulled at her husband’s arm. ‘Let us all sit down before you speak business.’ She turned to Leo. ‘We have tea. Let me pour you a cup.’
He lifted a hand. ‘Thank you, no tea for me.’
She carefully lowered herself on a sofa and Nicholas sat beside her. Leo chose a chair adjacent to them.
Nicholas started. ‘Why did you react to our plan as you did, Leo? You must know we are concerned about you. We would do anything for you.’
Leo stiffened. ‘Your concern is unfounded.’
‘But you disappeared for two years,’ Nicholas went on.
‘I wrote letters,’ Leo protested. ‘I kept you advised as to where I was.’
Nicholas shook his head. ‘You told us nothing about what you were doing, you must admit. Then stories of your activities reached us, increasing our worry for you—’
Leo held up a hand. ‘Those stories were greatly exaggerated, I am sure.’
He could agree that he had gone through a brief period of very heavy drinking, placing himself in dangerous situations from which he often had to resort to fisticuffs to escape. That period had been short-lived and he did not credit his heavy gambling as scandalous. All the other activities they could not know about.
Nicholas leaned forwards, worry lines appearing between his brows. ‘I know that much can happen when you travel to new lands.’ His duchess touched him and a look of understanding passed between them. ‘You can tell me if anything happened to distress you.’
Nicholas was speaking about himself, Leo realised. Was he harbouring secrets of his own? ‘Nicholas, believe me. Nothing of consequence happened to me.’
Meeting Walker had been important, of course, but the crucial event in his life had happened before his travels. He’d never spoken of his secret betrothal to his siblings and, if Mariel had disclosed it, surely his siblings would have smothered him with their commiserations and battered him with their advice.
Which would still be the case today if he shared the truth of why he’d come to beg a favour of his brother, the duke.
Both Nicholas and Emily continued to gaze at him with sympathetic disbelief.
Leo lifted a hand. ‘Stop looking at me like that! I did very well on my travels. It was a great adventure having no responsibilities. Quite freeing, in fact.’
Nicholas frowned. ‘But you cannot live your life that way. You must let us help you secure your future. The plan for Welbourne Manor is a good one, is it not?’
Leo scraped a frustrated hand through his hair. ‘Nick, I no longer wish to breed horses. I do not know how to convince you all of that fact.’ That dream had been too connected to Mariel for him to pursue it now, and too connected to his misguided wish for society’s acceptance.
‘I cannot believe it,’ Nicholas protested. ‘You’ve loved horses since you were out of leading strings.’
‘I still love horses.’ Leo shrugged. ‘I merely have no wish to breed them.’ There were better ways to gain wealth and success, he’d discovered. More exciting ways.
‘But—’ Nicholas started.
Leo held up a hand. ‘There is something I do need from you—’
His brother’s demeanour changed. ‘Anything, Leo. Anything.’
‘I want to re-enter society.’ How was he to put this? ‘I will eventually wish to mix with members of the ton and I want to counteract the gossip that apparently has preceded me.’ A bold-faced lie, of course.
This was a story Nicholas would believe, however.
‘Of course. Of course.’ Nicholas said. ‘What can we do?’
‘Take me along to society functions.’ Ones that Mariel would also attend, he meant. ‘I know I may not be welcome everywhere, but those where you think my presence would not be objectionable.’
Nicholas’s eyes flashed. ‘You are my brother. I dare say you’d better be accepted at any affair I condescend to attend.’
Nicholas would never accept the truth of Leo’s situation. Or that it no longer mattered to Leo whether society accepted him or not. Leo wanted nothing to do with people who judged others by birth alone. If it weren’t for needing access to Mariel, Leo would tell them all to go to the devil.
‘I would be grateful, Nick.’
Emily brightened. ‘Leo could accompany you to the ball tonight.’
‘Indeed!’ Nicholas clapped his hands. ‘Come here at nine and we will go together.’
‘Nine. I will be here.’ He rose. ‘I’ll take my leave of you now, however.’
‘No!’ cried Emily. ‘You have only just arrived. You must stay for dinner.’
Too many hours away. ‘I cannot, but I appreciate the invitation.’
Nicholas helped Emily to her feet and she embraced Leo. ‘Please know you are welcome in our house any time.’
Her sincerity touched him deeply. ‘Thank you.’
Nicholas clapped him on the back. ‘I will walk you to the door.’
It seemed an odd thing for a duke to do.
As they descended the staircase, Nicholas said, ‘I am delighted that you asked for my help. I am very glad to give it.’
Leo felt a pang of guilt for so resenting what was offered him out of such brotherly affection.
‘Do you have suitable clothes?’ Nicholas asked. ‘I’m sure I can fix it if you do not.’
If only such loving offerings were not so insulting. ‘I have formal clothing,’ he managed through gritted teeth. ‘Where is this ball tonight, may I ask?’
‘Lord Ashworth’s,’ Nicholas responded. ‘Do you remember him?’
Ashworth’s. Why did that irony not amuse him?
‘I remember him.’
* * *
That evening as Leo and Nicholas stepped up to the doorway of the Ashworth ballroom, waiting to be announced, Leo immediately scanned the crowd, looking for Mariel.
Nicholas whispered to the Ashworth butler, who then announced, ‘The Duke of Manning and Mr Leo Fitzmanning.’
The buzz of conversation ceased for a moment and all eyes turned their way. Leo supposed the silence was not merely the deference due a duke, but the shock at seeing the duke’s bastard brother at his side.
Ashworth, whose girth had thickened since his youth, immediately stepped forwards from where he’d been standing to receive guests. ‘Your Grace, how delightful you were able to come.’
A pretty young woman who’d been standing next to Ashworth also approached Nicholas. ‘I do hope the duchess is well, your Grace.’
‘Very well, Lady Ashworth,’ Nicholas replied. ‘Si
mply not up to the rigours of a ball.’
Ashworth had married someone else, obviously.
Nicholas turned as if to present Leo, but Ashworth had already seized his hand. ‘Leo! How delighted I am to see you!’ The man pumped his arm enthusiastically. ‘It has been an age and you have been abroad!’
Before Leo could form a response, Ashworth put an arm around his shoulder and brought him over to his wife. ‘Pamela! Here is my dear friend!’ It was kind of Ashworth to characterise him as such. ‘May I present to you Leo Fitzmanning.’
Leo bowed. ‘I am very pleased to meet you, Lady Ashworth.’
This woman, who might have been Mariel had events transpired as Leo thought they would, was a pretty doll-like creature who appeared as soft and affable as Ashworth himself.
‘Mr Fitzmanning. How nice you could come.’ Her words seemed as genuine as her husband’s and in her expression there was no hint of censure for attending without an invitation.
At that moment other guests were announced and Leo left his host and hostess to their greeting tasks. Nicholas had been commandeered by some gentlemen now surrounding him, so Leo felt free to search for Mariel.
He moved through the crush of guests, nodding to those people who acknowledged him, noticing those who avoided looking his way. Though no one dared risk offending his brother by giving Leo the cut direct, he was aware of whispers about him in his wake.
The room was ablaze with candles and decorated with huge jardinières of flowers. Richly upholstered sofas and chairs were set against the walls and grouped for conversation. It had been a long time since he’d wandered through a Mayfair ballroom. Nothing had changed.
Except him.
In his travels he’d wandered through the worst parts of cities, the poorest parts, and often found people living with more dignity than some of these glittering guests, so quick to judge and disdain.
He heard a squeal. A rush of pink silk caught the corner of his eye.
His sister Charlotte advanced on him. ‘Leo! You are here! I could not believe my eyes.’ She seized his arm and dragged him with her. ‘Come say hello to Drew. Justine and Brenner are here, too. Isn’t it lovely?’
He had to admit it felt gratifying to be greeted with even more enthusiasm than Ashworth had shown. He received a brotherly embrace from Charlotte’s husband, Drew, whom he’d known practically their whole lives, and answered Drew’s many questions regarding his health, when he’d arrived, where he’d travelled from, why they had not seen him sooner.
Charlotte interrupted. ‘Oh! Here is someone else you know, Leo. You must say hello.’ She tugged him away from her husband.
And brought him face to face with Mariel.
Her dress was a deep-rose silk and a dark blue sash was tied at her waist. Matching blue ribbons adorned her hair, which was swept atop her head with curls framing her face. She was so lovely she seemed unreal.
She was obviously not delighted to see him, but even less delighted was the man at her side.
Lord Kellford.
Leo bowed. ‘Miss Covendale.’
‘Miss Covendale?’ Charlotte cried. ‘Since when do you call Mariel Miss Covendale?’
He shot Charlotte what he hoped was a dampening look. ‘Since I am at a formal ball.’ He turned back to Kellford and gave him a curt nod. ‘Kellford.’
Kellford responded in kind. ‘Fitzmanning.’
Mariel’s eyes pleaded with him, as if she feared he would blurt out their long-held secrets. Did she think he would retaliate for her having spurned him? In any event, he was fairly certain she would not willingly speak to him privately, even if he could manage it.
Making matters worse, Mariel’s father approached and on a flimsy pretext hustled her away. Leo turned back to Drew, asking him how his sister and nephew fared and about their estate, and pretending the brief exchange with Mariel meant nothing to him. A few moments later, Justine and Brenner appeared and were delighted to see him. He was soon enveloped by family, who remained near him the entire night, an armour he did not need. He could stand on his own anywhere, especially in the superficial gaiety of a Mayfair ballroom.
Kellford rarely left Mariel’s side; Leo was beginning to despair of ever catching her alone.
Watching her altered something inside him, Leo had to admit. It would take some effort to turn his emotions to stone again. Still, he would never allow himself to be vulnerable to her smiles and promises. He must question, though, why he cared so much to discover why she must marry Kellford. And why he felt determined to prevent it.
He no longer believed he was merely playing the Good Samaritan.
Finally he spied her saying something to Kellford. She managed to walk away and leave the ballroom alone. Leo made an excuse to his family and followed her, taking care not to look obvious. He guessed she was bound for the ladies’ retiring room, otherwise why would Kellford have let her go?
Catching a glimpse of her entering the room as another lady left, Leo retreated to a discreet corner where no one would notice him.
It seemed a great deal of time passed before she emerged again. Had she delayed on purpose to enjoy being free of her constant escort?
Leo quickly stepped from the shadows and seized her arm, pulling her out of sight of prying eyes.
‘Leo! Let me go,’ she whispered, trying to twist away.
He released her, but blocked her way back to the ballroom. ‘Give me a moment.’
Her eyes darted. ‘Someone will see us.’
‘A moment,’ he implored. ‘Tell me the reason you feel you must marry. I’ll fix it for you. Let me help you.’
Her face flushed with anger. ‘You will fix it? Do not make me laugh, Leo. You have no right to even speak to me now.’
‘I have no right?’ he answered hotly. ‘Because of the choice you made two years ago?’
‘A choice I made?’ Her brows knit in confusion.
‘To marry Ashworth...’ Leo had not wanted to pursue this matter.
‘Marry Ashworth?’ She gave a scornful laugh. ‘Well, I obviously did not marry Ashworth. If I had, I would not be in this fix.’
It brought him back to the task at hand. ‘Never mind. Tell me why you must marry Kellford.’
She stood so near his arms ached to hold her again. He leaned closer, suddenly helpless against the need to taste her lips and recapture some of the youthful joy they’d shared.
Her eyes rose to his and her pupils widened. For a moment she did not move. He leaned closer.
‘Leo,’ she whispered, then pushed him aside. ‘What does it matter? Move away. I must return to my charade.’
Her charade. She did not wish to marry Kellford, that was clear. And, like it or not, Leo had made the choice to help her. He’d not back out now.
At the moment, though, he could only watch her hurry back to the ballroom.
* * *
At the end of the evening as Leo rode back to the ducal town house with Nicholas, he asked, ‘What event will everyone attend tomorrow night?’
‘A party at Vauxhall Gardens hosted by Lord and Lady Elkins.’ His brother stifled a yawn. ‘But I will not attend. I prefer to stay home with Emily.’ He glanced at Leo. ‘Would you like to go in my stead? I can arrange that.’
‘I would indeed.’
Anything was possible at Vauxhall Gardens.
Chapter Four
‘Vauxhall Gardens?’ Walker’s brows rose.
‘That is correct.’ Leo opened a cabinet in his sitting room and pulled out a decanter of brandy. He poured himself a glass. ‘I’ll need a domino and a mask. Do you know where you might get one?’
The valet shrugged. ‘I will find one, but what is this? A card game at Vauxhall Gardens?’
Leo lifted an empty glass in an invitation to pour some for
Walker. ‘Not precisely. It is a society event.’
Walker shook his head. ‘Another society event? This is a change for you. May I ask why?’
Leo frowned, an image of Mariel flying into his mind, as well as one of Kellford brandishing a whip.
Walker’s expression turned to one of concern. ‘What is it, Fitz?’
Walker only acted the role of valet, which accounted for his plain speaking and familiar address. Few gentlemen—or servants, for that matter—would understand the sense of equality between the two men, born of mutual respect and one life-changing experience. Leo had fed Walker’s thirst to better himself, teaching Walker to read and to speak like an educated man. Walker had shown Leo the skills he’d acquired to survive the Rookerie and provided the contacts that would make their present venture profitable. There was little they did not know about each other’s lives.
Still, Leo had never told Walker about Mariel. His feelings for Mariel were a secret locked so deep inside him he did not know if he could ever dislodge them.
Walker’s brows knit. ‘Is this what your family asked of you? That you must rejoin society and attend its entertainments? And you are doing it?’
‘No.’ Leo lifted the glass of brandy to his lips. ‘Although no doubt my family would be delighted by it. You know my opinion of society.’ On the Continent he had learned that he needed only his wits and his courage to make money.
‘Then what is this?’ Walker circled with his finger. ‘Why this visage of life and death, then? It must be more than some new scheme. If you are in trouble, you should let me in on it, you know.’
Leo smiled inside at the way the word visage dropped so easily off Walker’s tongue. As did Walker’s willingness to help, somewhat reminiscent of Nicholas’s.
Leo took a sip of his brandy. He needed Walker’s help, he was certain of that, and Walker was not as easy to fool as Nick. He was also not one to follow orders without an explanation. Walker had freed himself from blind adherence to orders.
Leo must stick close to the truth, but he had no intention of exposing what was still painfully raw.