Scandalous by Night

by Barbara Pierce

  Lady Fayre was unimpressed. “Everod has many friends in town. Friends who will defend to the death the honor his own family believes he lacks. If your aunt is concerned about her nerves, perhaps she should remain in the country.”

  “Maura.”

  Maura winced. Her aunt had found the butler, and he was telling her about their guests. “If you want to discuss Lord Everod, it will have to be elsewhere,” she hissed. “Please!”

  The door swung open, and Aunt Georgette walked into the room. She eyed the three young women with a critical, lofty stare that she reserved for individuals that she wanted to intimidate.

  “Abbot told me that you had guests.”

  Although young, her new friends seemed unruffled by her aunt’s appearance. Maura quickly made the proper introductions, as she thought of a convincing excuse to bid the ladies farewell.

  Her Grace—Kilby—took matters into her own hands. “Lady Worrington, I hope you will not mind if we kidnap your niece for a few hours. The temperate weather has inspired us to visit Hyde Park. If you approve, we would be thrilled to have Miss Keighly join us.”

  “Of course,” her aunt said, the lines around her mouth fading as she relaxed. “The plans we have arranged for the afternoon can be put aside. A little fresh air and friends to share the afternoon with is a pleasant alternative.”

  Maura tried not to stare openmouthed at her aunt. Lady Fayre had been correct when she had praised what she referred to as Kilby’s “subtle cunning” when dealing with her husband. The duchess had appealed to her aunt in a deferring manner that banished any threat Aunt Georgette might have perceived from a lady who was younger, prettier, and outranked her in title.

  Lady Fayre noticed Maura’s amazement and gave her a conspiring wink.

  Maura smiled.

  Everod had some fascinating friends.

  “Where is Maura?”

  Georgette smiled contritely at Rowan. He had arrived earlier to tell her of his late-night encounter with her niece. It boded well that he had managed to kiss Maura, and the young lady, according to her stepson, had welcomed his passionate overture. Encouraged, she had sought out Maura so Rowan could continue his courtship.

  The three ladies who had called on her niece were most unexpected. Maura could do worse than befriend a duchess, the daughter of a duke, and a countess.

  Georgette had been introduced to the dowager Duchess of Solitea. At least a decade older, and regrettably, merely tolerable in looks, the dowager duchess possessed many friends, Georgette conceded, and considerable influence with the ton. Maura could benefit by connecting herself with the family. It was a pity the lady’s son was already married, otherwise Georgette might have discarded her plans for Rowan and focused her attentions on securing the duke for her niece.

  “I regret Maura has departed with some new friends,” Georgette said, placing her hands on his shoulders as she circled behind him. “It appears our girl has found respectable companions all by herself. Her Grace, the Duchess of Solitea, is most gracious to take Maura under her wing. I might add that you could benefit from their friendship, as well.”

  Rowan halted her gentle massage by squeezing her fingers. “The Duchess of Solitea? Who else? Give me their names,” he said tersely.

  Annoyed by his callous rejection, she continued her walk around the table that had been brought out onto the terrace. “Two others. The duchess’s sister-in-law, Lady Fayre, and a blonde … Lady Ramscar, I believe.”

  Swearing, Rowan slammed down the paper he had been reading before she had returned, and pushed himself onto his feet. “Georgette, these ladies know Everod.”

  “Gracious, all three were once his mistress?” Georgette exclaimed, impressed with the viscount’s appetites. If Worrington had not caught them together, she might have enjoyed Everod for months.

  “They were not his lovers, though I am positive their husbands had something to do with my brother’s restraint,” Rowan said petulantly, a painful reminder of his young age. “Solitea and Ramscar are Everod’s friends. The notion that you just sent Maura off with the wives of les sauvages nobles gives me to ponder the wisdom of your decision.”

  Her expression serene, Georgette gracefully sat down in the chair across from Rowan, pretending his revelation had not shaken her to the core. She was a woman who rarely made mistakes. Why had Everod sent his friends’ wives to befriend Maura? It frustrated her that she could not seem to anticipate the viscount’s moves as he toyed with Worrington and the rest of them.

  Eventually, it might become prudent to confront Everod directly. However, she was willing to allow Rowan to be her spy.

  She picked up the teapot out of habit, and poured some tea into her cup. “Rowan, my darling man, you look as if you could benefit by taking a brisk ride in the park.”

  Rowan nodded, grimly satisfied with her plan. “I see.”

  Georgette clasped her hands together and tucked them under her chin. “I never told Maura that you were here. If she encounters you at the park, she will think it simply a coincidence.”

  No harm had been done by her misstep. If the Duchess of Solitea and her friends had approached Maura for something other than friendship, Rowan would alert her.

  Georgette had no intention of giving Everod the chance to outwit her.

  “Shall we walk from here?” the young duchess, Kilby, solicitously inquired. “We could take the footpath to the river. The view is magnificent.”

  “The scenery is a favorite for artists from the Royal Academy. You will often encounter them sitting along the grassy banks with an easel erected beside them; a pencil clenched between their teeth and another poised in their hand,” Lady Fayre added to further entice her.

  “A walk sounds wonderful,” Maura said enthusiastically.

  Kilby commanded the coachman to halt.

  While the duchess issued orders to her servant, Maura leaned forward anticipating their upcoming adventure. Aunt Georgette’s timely interruption had given her an excuse to escape the confines of the house. Perhaps it was not ladylike to admit it, but Maura was used to exploring the family lands on foot. Since her arrival in London, all her outings seemed to require a carriage.

  This time of day, the park was as busy as Bond Street. Horses and equipages of varying sizes rumbled by them as the ladies descended their carriage with the assistance of a groom. Pedestrians were everywhere, enjoying the scenery as well as being seen. Colorful blankets were scattered across the open field like spring petals, as couples and families appreciated the fine weather. Two young boys dashed in front of Maura, halting her stride, while a third boy, the pursuer, chased after his faster companions.

  If Maura had been younger, she might have joined the boys in their merriment.

  The coachman remained beside the horses while the groom followed the four ladies at a leisurely pace.

  “How long have you known Lord Everod?” Maura asked her companions, admiring the varied landscape of woods, hills, and meadow.

  Fayre was the first to respond to her question. “My brother, Tem, and Everod have been friends since they were boys. I cannot recall a year when Everod was not at my brother’s side. He often visited Arionrod when I was a girl. I was suitably impressed with my brother’s friend.”

  Fayre opened her parasol, a frilly thing with tiny red bows at the edge. Maura also opened her parasol. Hers was made from white lace with white tassels dangling from fixed points.

  “Even then, Everod was taller than my brother,” Fayre revealed, as she walked beside Maura. “In my young mind, taller meant he could throttle my brother. For that alone, I was smitten for a summer.”

  All four ladies laughed, imaging the child with long cinnamon braids chasing after Everod with the hope that he might kill her brother at her whim.

  Maura glanced away uncomfortably, realizing she had also pursued young Everod. She had been older than Fayre, but she had been smitten with his arrogant smirk and playful ways. Unlike Fayre, Maura feared she had never quite outgrown
her youthful fascination for the man.

  “Of course, I was beneath both my brother’s and Everod’s notice. I was merely the annoying younger sister,” she explained to them. “It was just as well. The few occasions I did manage to coax my brother into allowing me to partake in one of their adventures were a complete disaster. They always brought me home crying, my dress soiled and torn, and bloodied welts on my face and arms.”

  “How dreadful!” Patience said.

  Kilby and Patience were to Maura’s right. Still smiling at Fayre’s tale, she said to them, “Have you both known Lord Everod as long?”

  “Patience’s husband, Ram, has known Everod as long as Fayne, I suppose,” Kilby replied, glancing at her friend for confirmation. “I met Everod two years ago, when circumstances placed me directly in Fayne’s path.”

  “You were fortunate Tem saw you first,” Fayre teased. “Otherwise, Everod might have vied for your attentions.”

  Patience giggled. “I concur. I have known Everod for thirteen months, and according to my husband, the viscount tends to flirt outrageously with anything wearing a skirt. I confess, there is something about Everod that sends a lady’s heart racing—”

  “Or has a lady pondering what it might feel like to have his hot lips on hers. Are his kisses as potent as strong brandy?” Fayre wondered aloud with a wistful sigh.

  Maura opened her mouth, almost falling into the trap of acknowledging that she knew exactly how Everod’s kisses affect a lady. The viscount’s kisses were potent. If she closed her eyes, she could still feel his hot breath on her face as his mouth slanted over hers. He tasted heavenly, too. An intelligent lady could dedicate hours to kissing the man, analyzing every detail.

  Maura swallowed before she embarrassed herself by drooling. She must have had an odd expression on her face, because all three ladies were staring at her peculiarly.

  “We’re too late. The scoundrel has already kissed you, hasn’t he?” Kilby said shrewdly. “Or worse.”

  Maura halted, feeling that her new friends had neatly maneuvered her into a corner. “I—”

  Fayre surprised her by placing her arm around her waist, her eyes brimming with compassion. “Do not bother denying it. Kilby overheard Everod’s admission to my brother that he hoped to do more than kiss you.”

  “We love Everod dearly, Maura,” Kilby said as she and Patience circled around her. “However, the man is a scoundrel. During the two years of our acquaintance, he has discarded so many mistresses that I have lost count.”

  Patience nodded in agreement. “Your connection to his family makes you vulnerable. It is not our place to interfere—”

  Fayre finished the countess’s thought. “However, you are different from his usual lovers.”

  “I am not his lover,” Maura denied swiftly.

  “Not yet,” Kilby replied, placing her hand on Maura’s arm. “Everod usually chooses companions who understand his nature. He is a faithless, flirtatious selfish beast. Widows and courtesans are his normal fare. These ladies do not presume they can cage him, nor would he permit it if they tried.”

  “Seducing virgins for sport or revenge sounds too unsavory, even for Everod,” Fayre said, confident that she understood the viscount’s character. “I do not presume to comprehend what is going on between you and Everod, but we could not in good conscience allow him to ruin an innocent woman for spite.”

  Maura lowered her parasol, collapsing it as the point touched the gravel path. Fayre’s concerns distressed Maura. Her heart silently cried out in denial, rejecting the vile portrait of Everod’s character. She had not wanted to believe Everod could hurt her, but these three ladies, who knew him better than she, thought he was not only capable, but plotting her ruination.

  “Good afternoon, ladies,” Everod said, startling all four of them from their private musings. He was not alone. A beautiful, very pregnant lady had her hand on his arm as he strode up to them. “Have I arrived in time or have you three filled Maura’s head with tales of my savagery?”

  His forbidding amber-green eyes moved from face to face, and his displeasure sullied the air around them like a menacing fog.

  “Really, Everod,” the exotic dark-haired lady at his side said, laughing. “Most ladies, present company excluded naturally, find your rough, impulsive nature appealing.”

  “We would not presume to delay you or your friend, Lord Everod,” Kilby said, unruffled that she and her companions had just been caught doing exactly what Everod had suspected. “Enjoy your walk.”

  Everod was staring directly at Maura, silently daring her to accuse him of some dastardly deed.

  “Come along, ladies,” Fayre said, giving Maura a shove when she did not respond.

  The four of them hurried down the footpath without glancing back to see if the incensed viscount was charging after them.

  “She is very pretty,” Velouette observed, staring at the departing ladies. “Innocent, too. It clings to some ladies like a floral scent.”

  “What are you implying, Vel?” Everod snarled, half tempted to run after Maura and demand that she tell him everything his friends’s wives had told her about him. “Do you think I am too jaded for Miss Keighly?”

  Women. Without hearing his side of things, they had circled around Maura, attempting to protect her from his vile intentions. He wondered if Solitea and Ram knew what mischief their wives had engaged in this afternoon when they called on Maura. The trio deserved a sore backside for interfering in his life.

  “Darling, you are too jaded for most ladies,” she said, patting him on the cheek. “Still, it does not prevent us from slowing our stride so you are able to catch us.”

  No one deigned to speak again until they stood on the banks of the Serpentine River, which seemed more like a lake that was fed by a small stream since its perimeter reminded Maura of a parallelogram. Rowboats and small sailboats glided across the mirrored surface alongside ducks and swans. Kilby had been correct. It was a picturesque spot to pause, and appreciate the beauty around them. As Fayre had predicted, several artists were arduously immortalizing what they saw to paper using watercolors and charcoal.

  “Who was the lady with Lord Everod?” Maura asked, giving in to her curiosity.

  “Lady Spryng,” Fayre said, reluctant to say more.

  Maura refused to suppress the obvious question burning on her tongue. “His mistress?”

  “Lady Spryng has been every man’s mistress,” Kilby spat, her dislike for the pregnant lady transparent to anyone who noted her expression. “Or has tried to be.”

  The duchess squeezed her eyes shut, striving to remain calm. “Forgive me, Maura, I do not mean to sound unkind. However, there are some ladies of the ton who have no qualms about stealing another lady’s husband. Lady Spryng and her ilk are best when avoided.”

  Maura glanced sideways at Fayre, who subtly shook her head in warning. Obviously, Kilby had a good reason to dislike the exotic beauty.

  “Is Lord Everod the sire of Lady Spryng’s child?” Maura held her breath awaiting a reply to her question.

  Patience’s forehead furrowed. “I highly doubt it. Lord Everod might be a scoundrel, but he is rather possessive about things that he considers his. If Lady Spryng carried Everod’s child, he would have claimed the babe, and I have not heard any rumors that he has done so. I believe he and Lady Spryng are just friends.”

  “Knowing Everod, she is for certain a former mistress,” Fayre said, disillusioning Maura with her news. “She is too beautiful, and there have been rumors about her.”

  Maura grudgingly thought Everod and Lady Spryng seemed perfect for each other. His tall, brooding, handsome features complemented Lady Spryng’s smooth light brown skin, sleek sable hair, and dark, inviting eyes. Everod would not have bothered to resist her considerable charms. Perhaps the lady’s position was not that of former mistress as her companions assumed.

  It was a disparaging thought.

  On horseback, Rowan Lidsaw had discreetly observed Maura
’s encounter with his elder brother. Whatever the ladies’ motives for befriending Maura, even from his considerable distance he could see that the three women had been displeased with Everod when he approached them.

  Georgette would be as delighted as he was that their exchange was brief. Maura and her new friends had continued down the footpath to the river, while Everod and his pregnant companion had strolled toward their awaiting carriage.

  Was the lady carrying Everod’s bastard? The complication of his brother’s carelessness could benefit Rowan. Maura was too innocent to fathom the dark nature of a man’s lust. She was likely appalled when she saw Everod promenading his whore so publicly in the park. The woman’s ruination was a cruel example of what Maura would perceive as Everod’s weakness, and she would shun him out of respect for the poor woman carrying his child.

  The Duchess of Solitea and her friends had been allies after all.

  Pleased, Rowan dug his heels into the gelding’s hindquarters, already anticipating Georgette’s joy when he shared his good news with her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Georgette had greeted Maura warmly upon her return from Hyde Park with her new friends. While her aunt spoke of the advantages for being connected with the eccentric Carlisles, Maura pondered their brief encounter with Everod.

  He had been as surprised as she had been to see him. Nor had he been ashamed to be caught with his mistress or former mistress. No, Everod had been furious with Kilby, Fayre, and Patience for their interference. Everod believed the ladies could damage Maura’s fine opinion of him, and he had barely restrained himself from throttling her friends.

  Lady Spryng, on the other hand, seemed rather amused by his reaction. Maura had felt the weight of the other woman’s measured stare. She had known exactly who Maura was, and likely her part in Everod’s downfall twelve years ago. Instead of condemning Maura, Lady Spryng had teased Everod into a guarded retreat. Whoever this woman was to the viscount, she carried a certain amount of influence with him.