Every muscle in Drew’s body tensed. “You mean my sister, Lady Gabrielle?”
Ellis twitched. “Yes, of course, Lady Gabrielle.” He chuckled, but it came out strained. “It’s difficult for me to think of her as a grown woman. I meant no disrespect.”
Drew banged his glass on the table beside him. “She’s not a grown woman, so stop thinking about her at all.”
“You’re right, of course.” Ellis sipped his drink, studying Drew over the rim. “But will she be presented next season?”
Did Drew detect a note of hope in his friend’s voice?
“What has gotten into you, gent? Do you fancy yourself in love with Gabby?” Drew’s eyes narrowed on his friend as the magnitude of what Ellis’s objectives might be dawned on him. “Don’t tell me your intentions with my sister are dishonorable unless you’d like to schedule a dawn appointment. Since we have a history, I would only wing you, but you may lose use of your arm.”
The earl smiled indulgently, not intimidated in the least despite his knowledge of Drew’s abilities with a firearm.
“Rest assured that I have no intentions with Lady Gabrielle. I am simply curious. She seemed to be of age at the duke’s birthday celebration.”
“Well, you are mistaken. It could be two years yet before Gabby is presented.” Drew hoped to discourage his friend, because despite his denial, Ellis wore a familiar lovesick expression. His brother, Richard, had adopted a similar smitten appearance once he met Phoebe.
“Two years,” Ellis muttered. “In two years it is.”
Bloody hell. The earl was making a mental note. What type of illness plagued Ellis and Rich? First Drew’s brother leg-shackled himself to Phoebe, a lovely young woman to be sure if one must select a spouse, and it appeared Ellis desired to follow his example. But Gabby? She was a mere girl. How could Ellis consider her otherwise?
Listening to any more of his friend’s drivel would either drive Drew batty or compel him to issue a challenge to defend Gabby’s honor. Neither prospect pleased him, so he dragged his weary frame from the chair. “I’m off to Rendell’s.”
“Yes, well, good luck,” Ellis mumbled.
As Drew gathered his hat and cane from the porter, Jake Hillary strolled into the gentlemen’s club. His lip curled as his sight landed on Drew. Although Drew wouldn’t have claimed friendship with Hillary, he had never considered them enemies. What had gotten into the man that night at the Eldridge ball?
“Hillary.” He called out a jovial greeting, willing to overlook the other gentleman’s hostile behavior. “Released from your escort duties tonight, or did you leave that peach of a sister to fend for herself?”
“She’s none of your concern,” Hillary snapped. “And don’t bother making the rounds. She is under the safety of our father’s roof tonight.”
Make the rounds? The ballrooms were the last place Drew wanted to be. He’d finally managed to extricate himself from his association with Lady Audley and preferred to avoid any future contact. Not even the prospect of catching a glimpse of Miss Hillary would compel him to visit the horrid places.
Jake handed his hat and gloves to the porter. “Rest assured Lana will be under my protection when we visit your brother’s estate in a few days.”
Hell’s teeth. What care did Drew have for the Hillarys’ affairs? He tipped his hat and tried to pass, but the gentleman blocked his way.
“I suggest you stay in London and away from my sister, if you know what’s good for you.”
Hillary was dicked in the nob. All this fuss over a skinny redhead made no sense. Skinny redhead.
Drew pictured Miss Hillary as she had been that evening hanging from the tree with her skirts bunched around her waist. A more accurate description might be to call her a ginger-haired beauty with long legs and an arse out of Botticelli’s Primavera.
He met Hillary’s fierce glare without blinking. Maybe he should go to Northumberland, if for no other reason than to defy this prig doling out unsolicited advice. The travel, however, was grueling and the activities mind numbing. Good Lord, what was he thinking? He wouldn’t punish himself to spite the bugger.
Drew offered a sardonic grin. “I have no intentions of traveling north when everything I could want is here.” He stepped around Hillary and left for Rendell’s.
Five
The next morning Drew sat down to a plate of baked eggs with chives, toast, and a cup of hot tea moments before the butler entered the breakfast room. The Talliah House residents had departed for Irvine Castle two days ago, leaving Drew as the only occupant of his father’s town house. As the duke’s living quarters were more comfortable than Drew’s rented rooms, he was certain his father would not mind.
Wesley held out a calling card. “My lord, you have a visitor.”
Drew squinted at the scrolling black letters. What the devil possessed Norwick to call this early? A mere five hours ago, they had spoken at Rendell’s. Drew couldn’t fathom that his friend had anything of importance to convey that couldn’t wait until later.
The earl had been heavily into playing the dice most of the night, but when Drew left at dawn, it seemed Norwick dominated the table. Perhaps his friend’s luck had soured.
Drew pressed his lips together and settled against the seatback. “Send him in.”
A moment later Norwick bound into the breakfast room with a wide smile. “Forest, here you are. You missed the annihilation at the table.”
Norwick wasn’t here to borrow funds after all, much to Drew’s delight. “Congratulations. Would you care for something to eat?”
“No, no.” Norwick waved his hand as he dropped onto the mahogany carved dining chair. “Well, perhaps just some eggs. And a piece of toast.”
Drew nodded at the footman.
The servant set a plate in front of the Earl of Norwick. “Make it two pieces of toast, my good man.” Norwick patted his belly and grinned. “I didn’t acquire this body from turning down food. Hard as a boulder. And almost as large.”
Drew chuckled. “Indeed. You possess a remarkable frame, my good friend. So, will you be back at the gaming tables this evening?”
Norwick bit into his toast and pocketed the food in his cheek. “I leave for Northumberland in an hour. It’s a dreadfully long journey, but I was pleased to receive the duchess’s invitation. Perhaps we can get the dice rolling at Irvine Castle. When do you depart?”
Drew gave a distasteful look. “I’m afraid you must proceed without me.”
“You’re not going? What fun will that be?”
“It’s not, which is the reason I stay in London.”
Norwick’s shoulders slumped forward. “Bloody hell. I suppose it is too late to back out. I’ve already accepted the invitation.” An instant later, his jovial mood returned. “On the bright side, a country party has its rewards. A few of the ladies attending are quite fond of doling out favors, I’m told.”
Drew’s eyebrows shot upward. This soiree didn’t sound anything like the typical gathering at his family’s northern estate, all hunting and no fun. Had Mother finally wrestled control from Father?
Norwick waved over the footman, requested more eggs, then returned his attention to Drew. “Rumor has it Hillary almost drew your cork at Brook’s last night.”
“Untrue. The damned bugger was fortunate he didn’t receive a facer himself when he blocked my path. I found his dire warnings to stay away from his sister irritating.”
Norwick speared another bite of eggs. “Then I suppose what happened to Hillary last night left you in high spirits.”
Drew looked expectantly at his friend.
“You didn’t hear? Hillary was deep in his cups and took a tumble leaving Brook’s, though Lord knows how a man trips over his own two feet. Broke his leg. He’ll be laid up for weeks.”
Oddly, Drew did feel pleased by the report of Hillary’s bad fortune, not that he would have wished it on the gent. But since he hadn’t caused Hillary’s injury, he could take a bit of satisfaction in the re
sult.
“Which brother will accompany the little sister to Shafer Hall?”
“Do you refer to Miss Hillary? I imagine her mother will chaperone alone.”
“Indeed? I’m surprised she would wish to travel so soon after returning from Sussex.” He frowned. “Miss Hillary has three other brothers, yet none of them may be relied upon to lend their protection?”
Norwick shrugged. “The elder Hillarys aren’t residing in Town at the moment. They’re engaged in their own pursuits, I suppose.”
“Debauchery, drunkenness, and excessive gambling, no doubt.”
“That sums up the Hillary men.” Norwick shoveled another bite of eggs past his lips. “A brood of Corinthians, similar to you and me, chap.”
Drew bristled at being included in the same category. He might enjoy his vices, but he wouldn’t neglect his family to pursue them, at least not intentionally.
“The injured Hillary excluded, of course,” Norwick said with a scowl. “He seems rather protective and uncommonly aligned with his sister’s wishes. Refused to convince her to dance with me once.”
Drew leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms with a wry smile twisting his lips. “You don’t attend balls.”
“I did last year, one or two. Thought I might select a wife. Miss Hillary seemed an acceptable candidate, but the bloody gent blocked my way.”
Drew bit back a grin. Miss Hillary hardly needed her brother’s protection against Norwick, not when the chit scaled trees.
***
Her mother’s harping to find a suitable husband in the country vexed Lana. She was well aware of the urgency without her mother’s constant reminders. Mama had lectured most of the way from London, and Lana thought if she had to endure much more, she would have Jake’s other leg broken when they returned to Town.
Mama seemed quite committed to the task of brokering a marriage on Lana’s behalf, which might be appreciated if Mama behaved with any decorum. Lana dreaded the coming days of her mother hounding young men to pay court to Lana. It was mortifying.
“We’ll get one up to scratch,” Mama said with a slightly wild gleam in her eyes. “A baron at least. Just you wait and see.”
Lana’s gut tightened. Despite her father’s reassurances all was well with her mother, Lana wasn’t certain. If Mama suffered another one of her spells, would she know what to do?
Blast it. Papa should have accompanied them in Jake’s place. Lana had never comprehended the underlying animosity between her parents.
Her mother fluffed her skirts before folding her hands in her lap and frowning. “Good heavens, your hair is a mess. I do hope Lady Phoebe’s maid is as skilled as she boasts. You’ll need all the help you can get if you are to attract suitors.”
Lana’s moment of wondering why her father had declined to travel with them evaporated. “Are you listening, Alana? If a third season arrives, you’re as good as on the shelf. No gentleman desires a lady others have passed over. By the grace of God, we have received one last chance to secure a match this year. How industrious of you to have cultivated a friendship with Lady Phoebe.”
Lana sighed and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “I like Lady Phoebe, Mama. I had no design in mind.”
“I know, darling. You would never befriend anyone to earn an advantage.” She winked. “It’s simply fortunate the friendship bloomed as it did.”
Forget breaking his leg, Lana would strangle Jake when she next saw him. Traveling alone with her mother was torture.
Arriving at Shafer Hall at last, a footman assisted them from the carriage as Phoebe’s butler came forward.
“Lady Phoebe regrets she is unable to greet you upon your arrival, but sends her warm welcome. Please, come inside.”
The butler charged a footman with showing them to separate bedchambers and ordered their trunks taken upstairs. Despite being assigned individual quarters, her mother trailed into Lana’s chambers. She strolled around the room inspecting every vase and figurine. Holding a crystal glass up to the light, she apparently found no spots and replaced it on the sideboard.
“You’re an attractive young lady,” her mother said, “and Jake assures me many gentlemen hold you in high esteem. Still, no one calls at home. Young men these days… I fear there is something very wrong with them.”
Finally, they had discovered common ground.
A stout maid gathered up the wrinkled dresses and left the room.
“Take Lord Paddock, for example,” her mother continued.
Lana flopped on the bed belly first. “Mama, please. I wish to forget all things Paddock related.”
“And who could blame you?” Her mother stomped her slipper-encased foot. “Poor Miss Bettis. What type of degenerate deflowers a girl barely out of leading strings? Paddock is lucky he escaped castration, in my opinion.”
“Mama.”
She flicked her hand. “Oh, please, Lana. You’ve lived in a house with five men. Don’t pretend I have offended your sensibilities.”
Lana pulled a pillow over her head to cover her ears. If she never heard her former fiancé’s name again, she would be forever grateful. Fresh waves of humiliation and anger washed over her.
When Lana had confronted Leo and realized the truth of the allegations against him, she’d broken their betrothal on the spot. While she had been prepared for an argument, his attack on her person caught her off guard. Paddock had not been the Quality she had thought him to be. Nevertheless, Lana managed to deflect his blows with a book long enough for Jake and Daniel to storm the room and subdue him.
Subdue him. Such a mild word to use in connection with Lord Paddock’s injuries.
Her mother’s weight barely dented the bed as she sat down beside her and hauled the pillow from Lana’s head. “My dear, you’ll find better than the likes of that scoundrel.”
“And what if I don’t?” Lana’s eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them away.
“Heavens. How can you think such a thing? You are a beautiful young woman.”
Lana rolled to her back to confront her mother. “Come, Mama. You’ve said more than once that I would be prettier if only I would cover my face.”
Her mother laughed. “Lana, I’ve said no such thing. You make me sound like a monster. Asking you to wear a hat in the sun does not indicate I find you the least bit lacking in beauty.”
“You hate my freckles, Mama. You call them an abomination.”
“Your freckles are adorable, you foolish girl. Never once have I spoken a bad word against them. If you haven’t noticed, we share similar coloring.” Her mother’s hands fluttered to adjust her hat. “I realize I’ve complained of my own spots in front of you, but I never meant to give the impression I thought you were anything less than perfect the way you are.”
“I know for a fact I am imperfect. Paddock was kind enough to catalogue my flaws in excruciating details when I cried off.”
Red spread up her mother’s neck and face like wildfire. “That no-good devil’s spawn. What did he say?”
Lana refused to meet her eyes. Repeating his insults was too mortifying. “It was nothing.”
“Well, regardless of whatever misguided thing that blackguard said, he was wrong. A lead ball is too good for him.”
Lana covered her face. She hadn’t wanted anyone to know of her additional humiliation. Everything else had been bad enough.
Her mother pulled Lana’s hands from her face and urged her to sit up. “My sweet daughter.” She gathered Lana into her arms and cradled her against her bosom. “Don’t listen to the ramblings of a madman.”
She felt like a small child again. A lump formed in her chest as she fought back her sadness.
“You must put your sentiments aside and make an advantageous match while you still have time. The good Lord knows I made the mistake of listening to my heart, and you can see what a lonely existence I enjoy.”
Six
Drew leaned forward and urged the black stallion his father had presented for h
is expert opinion into a gallop. The Thoroughbred was descended from the Godolphin Arabian and bred for swiftness and agility. His father would be pleased the animal possessed a perfect blending of both qualities to render him a superior foxhunter.
The magnificent beast’s strong flanks propelled them forward at impressive speeds, and the wind whipped through Drew’s hair. He laughed aloud. How easy to forget pleasures afforded by the country when residing year-round in Town.
He spied Shafer Hall in the distance and reined in the horse to allow him a cool-down before reaching the mews.
As he rode up the circular drive, he spotted Phoebe in the gardens with his nephew. His sister-in-law leaned down to examine something the boy cradled in his palm. Drew’s heart warmed. Rich had a family and it was a lovely one.
He dismounted, left the horse in the care of the footman, and jogged toward the gardens.
“Phoebe. Stephan,” he called.
Both of their heads popped up. Stephan’s fist closed to entrap whatever he held. “Uncle Drew, come see what I found.”
He grinned, pleased with the way the boy accepted his presence at his home without question as if it were an everyday occurrence.
Drew knelt on one knee beside his nephew. “Let’s take a look.” Stephan opened his hand to reveal a black beetle. “My, he’s a big one. Will you keep him in a jar?”
“Mama says he’ll miss his family, so I have to let him go. It’s terrible to miss family. Do you not agree, Uncle Drew?” Stephan wandered off with his bug secured in his hand without waiting for a response.
Yes, missing family was a terrible condition, and missing out was even worse. Drew glanced up at Phoebe, her abdomen rounded from the baby growing inside, another tiny nephew or niece. “You look amazing, Pheebs.”
Her hand moved to caress her midsection as her arched brows pulled together. “Yes, well, thank you and good heavens. What are you doing here?”
He laughed and got up from his knee. “That’s a better welcome than I received from Mother. I believe her words were along the lines of ‘you cannot be here.’ There is no room for me at Irvine Castle. So, here I am.”
Miss Hillary Schools a Scoundrel Page 4