by Kerryn Reid
He sat on the steps to think about it. His head felt heavy, but disjointed, like it might roll off his neck and bounce down to the pavement. Then he’d have to retrieve it. And he wasn’t sure he could.
The front door groaned as it yawned wide behind him—or was it he who groaned? Turning his head with meticulous care, he saw the door standing open and the familiar furnishings of the Wedburys’ entrance hall inside. In lieu of rent to Lord Ryndale back home, who owned the place, they had paid to redecorate it. Lewis had helped choose the statue of Aphrodite. The closest he’d ever been to a naked woman, he wasn’t likely to forget it, even if she was now tastefully draped in white linen.
“Mr. Lewis?” A footman in familiar forest-green livery bent over him. “Let me help you inside, sir.”
Robert—he thought it was Robert—half-carried him up two endless flights of stairs while Lewis fumbled with the cravat cinched around his neck. As they rounded the corner toward his bedchamber, a latch clicked behind them in the dim corridor.
“Lewis?”
He winced as Cassie’s voice reverberated in his head. Robert swiveled at the sound. Held in his grip, Lewis did too. The walls undulated.
“Lewis. Are you all right? What’s the matter with him, Robert? Is he sick?”
“In a manner of speaking, miss. I’m putting him to bed.”
“You mean he’s drunk?” Cassie giggled.
“No,” Lewis muttered. “Just a bit fuddled.” Trying to focus on her face, he settled instead for the pale pink dressing gown she wore. It was a larger target and had no noses or eyebrows roaming about in unpredictable ways.
He hoped he heard wrong when she said, “Bring him to my room, Robert. I need to talk to him. Mama won’t mind. Letty’s there.”
Robert regarded at him doubtfully. “Sir?”
Lewis made a clumsy gesture with his arm that was meant to accompany a formal bow. He’d already decided he wouldn’t survive the bow itself. “Do as th’lady commands.”
So Robert guided him along the hall to Cassie’s room and deposited him in a chair. “Not that one,” Cassie said. “It’s too comfortable. Put him here.”
Here was a hard wooden chair with no arms, not a scrap of upholstery, and a straight back too low to support his head. Lewis complained about the change in plans, but no one was listening.
Robert removed Lewis’s ravaged cravat and recommended to Letty, Cassie’s diminutive maid, some cold water for his face. “I’ll bring him an ale.”
“Did Jack not come home with you, Lewis?” Cassie asked.
Lewis shook his head and regretted it. His feet ached and his coat felt tight, but he was not so far gone as to undress in a lady’s room, even if it was only Cassie. He’d tried to imagine himself locked in a passionate embrace with her, but it was impossible. She was too much his sister.
“Where did you leave him?”
“Some grimy tavern in… Well, you’d not know it. Wish I didn’t know it either. Tried to persuade him to come home.”
“I can’t believe you just left him.”
“It’s not like I left him alone, Cassie. He’s with friends—friends with hard heads, like his. What good would I be to him in this state? Any more to drink, I wouldn’t have made it home myself.”
“Well, don’t tell Mama. I’m surprised she didn’t hear us in the hallway.”
“I forget, where’d you go tonight?” His voice was muffled as he scrubbed his face with the cool cloth Letty handed him. He requested another.
“We went to that concert at the Seftons’. Ugh, how tedious.”
“Bet you foun’ someone to flirt with.”
“Well, Captain Fuller came.” There was an odd note in Cassie’s voice. Lewis had known her since she was born and had never heard it before. The thought wafted away into the gin fumes in his brain.
“Ahhh.” He sighed as he ran the wet cloth around his neck.
Cassie opened her eyes wide. “Lewis! Is that chest hair I see?” She erupted in gales of laughter.
Lewis jumped up, except it felt more like swimming. “I don’t know what’s so funny. I’m not ten anymore, you know.”
“I’m sorry, Lewis. It took me by surprise, that’s all.”
“I’m going to bed. Didn’t want to come in here in the first place.”
“Oh, Lewis, I am sorry. No, don’t leave yet—here, you may have the big chair.” She urged him into it, solicitous but still giggling.
Lewis grunted and took a gulp of ale. “I need my bed, Cassie. What is it you wanted to talk to me about?”
“Miss Spain. She wasn’t there tonight. We can’t let her hide, Lewis. No better way to prove how unhappy Gideon’s made her.”
No surprise if she wanted to stay out of sight. “Just what do you propose to do about it?”
“We need to take her out. We can start with places Gideon won’t be. I’ll have Mama invite them to tea, and we can take her for a drive to Richmond Park, and—”
“We? It has nothing to do with me.” If Cassie thought she was doing him a favor, she was off the mark. Far less painful if he never saw her again.
“Of course it does. You—”
The door opened with a whoosh and Lady Wedbury swept in like an oversized plum in a puce silk dressing gown. She gazed accusingly at Lewis, who struggled yet again to his feet like a jack-in-the-box. “I thought I heard voices. Masculine voices.”
Cassie giggled. “One masculine voice, Mama. It’s only Lewis. And Letty’s here.”
“You are far too old to be entertaining young men in your bedchamber, Cassandra, even if they are only Lewis. Come along, young man. It’s high time we were all in our beds.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” said Lewis. “I’ve been trying to get there for the past hour.”
Over breakfast the next morning, they learned from the servants that Jack had not arrived home until nearly dawn. Lady Wedbury frowned, but Sir John seemed unconcerned. “We wanted him to get a taste of town life, my dear. It seems late to us, accustomed to our sedate life in the country, but by the standards of fashionable society, it’s quite a normal hour.”
“Humph,” said his lady. “Who was he with, Lewis?”
Lewis listed a couple of names she would know, well-born fellows from respected families.
“You see, my dear?” said Sir John. “Perfectly acceptable.”
Lewis was not so sure. Others had been there, too, whom he did not name. They moved in different circles, but that did not necessarily make them corrupt. He could not yet make that assessment. But he had his doubts and hoped they would not become his intimates. Or Jack’s either.
Cassie breezed in, wearing primrose-yellow. She brought smiles for everyone and kisses for her parents, and a new topic of conversation.
Lewis squinted. It was far too early for so much brightness, even if it was near eleven.
“Mama, I want to start taking Miss Spain about. I wonder if we might invite her to our soirée on Tuesday. Her mother too, of course.”
Lady Wedbury sipped her coffee. “What brought this on, Cassandra? Not that I have anything against the girl, but she’s not like most of your friends.”
“That’s just the point, Mama. She’s reserved, and it’s been hard for her to make her way.”
“Spain?” Sir John’s brow furrowed. “Isn’t that the pretty blonde who’s caught Gideon’s eye?”
“Yes,” said Lady Wedbury. “I’d say she’s doing fine without your help. Gideon’s one of the most popular men in town. As long as she has him on her hook—”
“She doesn’t, ma’am,” Lewis interrupted, avoiding Cassie’s eye. God forbid she should think he’d signed on to her plan.
“He cast her aside, Mama, in the middle of my ball. In the most hurtful way you can imagine.”
Lady Wedbury shook her head. “You two are determined to think the worst of Gideon on every occasion.”
“He’s earned it, Mama,” Cassie insisted. “What would you think, if he came up to you and acted
like he couldn’t remember your name, and refused the dance he’d promised? He was the one with the hook, and he used it to rip her heart out. When we first came to London it was Miss Medley, then Miss Spain. Now it’s Miss Landrum.”
“Such melodrama, dearest. She’s eighteen, she’ll come about.”
“Your mother’s right, Cass,” Sir John said. “Hearts mend. It’s not like he’s ruining these girls.”
Lewis leaned forward. “Of course not. But I swear he enjoys watching them gasp on his line. Mighty callous, wouldn’t you say?”
“Perhaps,” Sir John said. “But there are plenty of young men flirting their way through the girls in town. One of them might be you, one of these days. Some are more heartless than we might wish, and that’s lamentable, but we’re not going to change human nature.”
“Nevertheless…” Lady Wedbury eyed her daughter, a pucker of worry between her brows. “Did you say Alice Landrum?”
“Yes, Mama. She was hanging on his arm at my ball and danced with him twice. I’m surprised you did not notice them together at the concert last night.”
“Hmm. Perhaps I’d better drop a word in her mother’s ear.” Her tone changed from concern to abhorrence. “I did notice Mrs. Spain fawning over Gideon. Trying to get him back for her daughter, no doubt, after leaving her to fend for herself the other evening. Apparently, she was a childhood friend of Lady Sefton. Otherwise, Miss Spain would surely not be dancing at Almack’s with the most eligible bachelors in England.” Her nose wrinkled in distaste. “I understand Mr. Spain is of genteel birth, but he was wise not to accompany his ladies to London. His fortune comes from trade.”
“So does my father’s, ma’am,” said Lewis. Without the Wedburys’ sponsorship, he too would be denied entrance to the hallowed premises of Almack’s, Society’s so-called Marriage Mart.
“Yes,” she replied, “but at least your father has resigned from all involvement in business. Gideon’s sons might legitimately be called gentlemen, and yours too if you choose a respectable profession.”
Ugh. A respectable profession. Law or the Church would require years of schooling he had little hope of acquiring, and no one was likely to buy him a commission in the Army even if he wanted one, which he did not. Nor was he cut out for a life in government. He’d do better selling sketches of passers-by on the street. But it would hardly qualify as respectable.
It had never much mattered. Before meeting Miss Spain, he’d had no thought of marriage, much less children.
“The daughter seems a nice, modest girl,” Lady Wedbury continued, “but I tell you, Cassandra, I don’t want that woman at our intimate little party.”
Cassie sighed and dug into her egg.
Lewis set down his cup and stepped from the frying pan into the fire. “What if we devise a way to get Miss Spain here without her mother? Would that be acceptable to you, ma’am?”
Cassie’s spoon clattered against her plate as she clapped her hands together. She cast Lewis a glowing smile.
“Oh, that’s a prime notion! I’ll take her shopping, and then she can stay for dinner and the party. Why didn’t I think of that?”
“A prime notion?” Lady Wedbury’s voice was grim. “I do not expect to hear such expressions from you, Cassandra, even if you manage to hold on to your spoon. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Mama,” said Cassie, as demure as could be.
“Except for visiting you in your room last night, which I have no doubt was your idea, Lewis has been a perfect gentleman. That is why I’m saying yes. Assuming Mrs. Spain permits it.”
Chapter 4
Two days later, Cassandra Wedbury arrived in Clifford Street with the family carriage to collect Anna and the bandboxes containing all her necessities for the day—her brush and comb, her gown for the evening, her stockings and dancing slippers. “Lady Wedbury makes no mention of it, but there may be dancing,” Mama had said as she’d directed the packing. “And here are a few shillings to spend. You must have new gloves, and we don’t want Miss Wedbury to think you penniless. A pity your father is such a skinflint.”
The Soho Bazaar teemed with people. Anna and Miss Wedbury ambled through the crowd, peering and poking at bonnets and lace and baubles. Miss Wedbury introduced Anna to everyone she knew as though they were equal in status and virtue, and people responded as though it were so.
But Anna was an impostor. What sneers and cold shoulders would they have given her if they knew her secret? And if Miss Wedbury knew, I would not be here at all.
Miss Wedbury bought a fan, stockings, and two dozen of the little silk bouquets Anna found, in different colors, for trimming bonnets or putting the finishing touch on a hairstyle. Anna helped Miss Wedbury with her selections, and then Miss Wedbury asked which ones she was buying.
“I don’t need any. I’m not—”
“But they cost almost nothing,” Miss Wedbury had said. “You can wear one in your hair tonight. Here, I’ll buy some for you.”
How humiliating! Anna’s father boasted to all who would listen about the fortune he’d made in the manufacture of porcelain. Though little of it came her way, she did not need charity. She bought two.
She purchased new evening gloves to replace the pair she had dropped after Miss Wedbury’s wretched ball. And when they stopped at Mr. Gunter’s confectionery before returning to Brook Street, Anna had tea and a biscuit she did not much want. It would have seemed odd to eat nothing when her companion demolished both a biscuit and a redcurrant ice.
Two young men passing outside the window stopped to ogle them, grinning and doffing their hats. Embarrassed by their forwardness, Anna focused on her tea.
Miss Wedbury nudged her arm and giggled. “Isn’t he handsome? The one on the right?”
Anna glanced up quickly before averting her gaze. “He looks a bit like Mr. Aubrey. Mr. Lewis Aubrey, I mean.”
Cassie surveyed the man again. “Yes, give Lewis a haircut and I can see the resemblance.”
Anna liked his hair long. “Are they quite respectable, do you think? Those waistcoats…”
“Heavens no. Not at all the thing. But I don’t mind if they want to look. It’s not like I’m taking them home to Papa.”
Anna said nothing. Her own papa would punish her merely for showing off her dimples, as Miss Wedbury was doing. Though he’d change his tune fast enough if he discovered they had money.
“I have to enjoy it while I can,” Miss Wedbury continued. “I’m bound to look just like Mama when I’m older. You don’t have to worry about that. You’ve got two inches on me and such a lovely figure. And that beautiful fair hair.”
The compliments rang hollow. Miss Wedbury herself had captured all the attention at the bazaar, drawn by her assurance and gaiety.
Anna had pursued a brief flirtation with gaiety. Gideon had crushed it.
At dinner that evening, Miss Spain was seated at the corner of the table farthest from Lewis. All through the meal, his attention shuttled between her and the conversation he owed to his neighbors. He could hear Fuller, sitting beside her, but Anna’s soft voice permitted him only a word here, a phrase there, a chuckle.
What had they talked about? Bristol, probably; it was home for both of them. When Fuller and Sir John, on her far side, were otherwise occupied, she’d picked at her food, her expression far from laughter. Once, perhaps feeling his gaze upon her, she had met his gaze and smiled, but it seemed tight, forced.
When Lewis entered the salon afterward, Miss Spain stood in conversation with Cassie and a soldier from the King’s Guard. Captain Fuller was one of the privileged few who had dined in Brook Street, taking Gideon’s place on the guest list in consideration for Miss Spain.
Now was Lewis’s chance to engage her, before the newcomers arriving for the soirée diverted her attention or his. He lifted two glasses of lemonade from the serving tray and made his way across the room.
Miss Spain thanked him with a smile, genuine this time. Oh, that dimple! Surely she was made for smili
ng. For kissing.
Had Gideon kissed her? Had he led her on to believe… What? The thought of it made his gut churn.
“Do give me your opinion, Mr. Aubrey,” she said, angling away from the others and speaking to him alone. “The girls will all be asked to perform later. I can sing, but I’m afraid it’s a poor display beside the rest. Could I simply recite, do you think? I know plenty of poetry.”
A blush tinged her cheeks. “I’ve even written some, but I wouldn’t dare share that. I have in mind something by Mr. Wordsworth.”
“I think it would be lovely, Miss Spain. I’m no arbiter of what’s proper, however. Did you ask Cassie?”
“She likes the idea, but she is enthusiastic about everything. I’m not sure I trust her judgment. I thought because it’s such a small gathering it might be all right.”
“Do it,” Lewis said. “It’ll be a bit unusual, but no hanging offense, after all.”
“I hope not!” she said, her eyes wide in mock horror. “I will, then. Would you stand where I can see you while I speak? You give me courage.”
Her hand came to rest on his sleeve as she made her unprecedented appeal. He hardly felt its weight, yet the warmth of her good opinion flowed clear up his arm and into his chest. “I… I’d be honored.”
By the time Miss Spain’s turn came, Lewis was possibly as nervous as she. Had he guided her astray? Every other chit had played the pianoforte or harp, some joining their voice to the instrument’s. Surely there were some besides himself who were ready for a change of pace?
An angel in white, she stood solitary and composed, her hands clasped at her waist. The light caught her hair and spun it into gold thread. He couldn’t tell that she was nervous, but she startled a bit when Lady Wedbury spoke from the side.
“Do you need an accompanist, Miss Spain?”
“No, ma’am. No, thank you.” She flicked a glance at Lewis and produced a smile for her audience.