Secret Life of a Scandalous Debutante

by Bronwyn Scott

  Val and Philippa were already at breakfast when she arrived. Philippa greeted her cheerfully and Val’s plate was piled with his customary eggs and ham. It might have been an ordinary day in the viscount’s household with everyone trying their best to put a good face on the revelations of the prior evening.

  But there was only so much a sunny disposition could hide. A man hurried into the breakfast room to speak with Val. Val murmured a few words and sent him on his way. Lilya glanced from Philippa to Valerian, looking for an explanation.

  Philippa set down her fork. ‘He’s one of the men Val has posted outside the town house. He— we,’ Philippa corrected, ‘felt it was necessary for all our safety.’

  Guards. Lilya’s stomach plummeted. She’d turned the lovely town house into a fortress, not just for herself but for them, too. But she could not argue against the precautions. She could not protest that Val was overreacting. Val had no idea what he was protecting against, but his instincts were right. The fear of the previous night resurfaced; she ought not to have come here.

  She had just sat down with a modest plate of toast and eggs when Beldon entered the room. He filled his plate and sat across from her.

  ‘How are you this morning, Lilya?’ he enquired.

  ‘I am well,’ she answered tentatively, hating how her eyes drifted to his mouth, the mouth that had kissed her.

  Would it always be this way from now on? Would she be able to have a conversation with him without thinking of his lips? He forked a bite of egg and she blushed. She’d been doing it again. His mouth quirked into the quickest of grins.

  He knew.

  Her mortification was complete.

  ‘We must go about our day as normally as possible,’ Valerian was saying when she dragged her thoughts back to the conversation. ‘The guards are dressed in plain clothing with the hopes that Christoph might not be alert to them immediately. I’d like nothing better than to see the bounder attempt to force an entry.’

  That would mean an interrogation. If Christoph were caught, Beldon and Val would question him personally and then they would know about the diamond. They wouldn’t have to wait for her to share the secret.

  Lilya took a last bite of eggs and pushed her plate away, most of her food untouched. ‘If you’ll excuse me, please?’ She had to think, somewhere away from all these politely prying eyes of the people she loved. How could she protect them when they had so boldly rushed into danger on her behalf? They’d engaged the fight without knowing what they fought against.

  She sought out a small, quiet room at the back of the house. It was filled with morning sun and had been intended for use by the lady of the house as an office. But it went unused by anyone except her since Philippa preferred to keep her own desk in Valerian’s office.

  Lilya curled up on the sofa, letting the abundance of morning light bathe her face. She closed her eyes against its brightness and sought clarity. All she had feared was coming to pass without her secret being known. Valerian’s family and Beldon were already involved. In hindsight, she could see that they’d been involved the moment she’d arrived. Her very presence involved them, secret or not. Keeping knowledge of the diamond from them wouldn’t protect them any longer. In fact, keeping them unaware might even put them at a grave disadvantage. They could only defend against so many circumstances without specific knowledge.

  Lilya sighed. She would have to tell them or leave unaccountably and without explanation.

  ‘Are you all right?’

  Lilya’s eyes flew open, her body starting at the intrusion. ‘I’m fine.’ She turned to see Beldon striding towards her, his presence filling the small room. He looked entirely masculine amid the feminine setting of pink-and-yellow chintz.

  ‘You did not seem fine at breakfast,’ Beldon challenged, taking seat beside her.

  ‘There is a lot to think about.’

  Beldon reached out to cover her hand where it lay in her lap. ‘You don’t have to do this alone,’ he began.

  Lilya shook her head and snatched her hand way. ‘We’ve done this vignette before. Don’t touch me. It will just make things worse, as we learned last night.’

  She needed space. She sought the security of the French doors leading out into a private garden, but Beldon followed her.

  ‘How does it make anything worse?’ They were alone in the garden except for the lone tweet of a bird in the hedge.

  ‘I usually admire persistence, Beldon. But not in this case.’ Lilya fingered the soft edges of a rose petal, deliberately keeping her tone cool and her back to him. Maybe if she needled him, angered him enough, he’d go away. He would hate her soon enough as it was. Once her secret was further defined, he’d despise her for coming here, for dragging them unsuspecting and without permission into her dark world of secrets. There would be no more kisses or tender glances then.

  Her strategy erred greatly. Beldon was angered, but it had the reverse effect. Instead of leaving, Beldon advanced, gripping her shoulder and spinning her around. ‘Look at me, Lilya. I grant that you do not know me well. However, in the time you have known me, have I ever been a man who runs from trouble? Have I ever been a man who has abandoned his friends in their hour of need? You cannot expect me to do less for you.’ Anger born of passion fired his words. It was positively mesmerising and true.

  His words were not a meaningless oratory of bravado. This man had fought beside Valerian when men had come to arrest him on charges of treason. This man had used every resource at his disposal to keep watch over Val while he was in Newgate awaiting trial. This man had not abandoned Val in his most desperate hour.

  Lilya had admired him during those difficult days, a staunch support to Philippa and to herself, a newly arrived stranger. Now, he pledged that same intense loyalty to her and it was entirely tempting to take it. Only the consequences of what it would mean to him held her in any kind of check. She would not see him dead on the altar of his own chivalry.

  ‘You only say this because you don’t know what you’re up against,’ Lilya countered.

  ‘I want to know. I would know, if you would tell me. But if you won’t, then I’ll fight blindly.’

  ‘That’s not something I can let you do.’

  Beldon’s frustration peaked. ‘I will not be protected through ignorance, Lilya. You do not protect me at all with this display of stubbornness.’ He was fighting hard to keep his temper in check. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, his shoulders rigid with tension. Beldon sank on to a stone bench, his agitated hands pushing through his hair, leaving it disarmingly dishevelled.

  His voice was calmer when he spoke again. ‘If you won’t listen to reason, Lilya, maybe you’ll listen to a story.’ He gestured to the seat next to him on the bench and she sat gingerly, not wanting to be persuaded, but not able to resist the lure.

  ‘Lilya, people have tried to protect me before from unpleasantness. Those manoeuvres failed miserably and with great cost, not only to me but to those around me—Valerian and Philippa specifically.’ He looked up at her with a rueful smile. ‘Oblivion and ignorance are not protection, not true protection. My father believed they were.’ He reached a hand out for her.

  ‘My father was a good man. He loved his family and he was generous to a fault. I mean that literally. We had a respectable fortune and it was spent on providing us the best of everything: expensive schools, fine horses, beautiful clothes and jewels for my mother. But when the war came and our income changed, my father could not bear to make the adjustments. By the time the war was over and economic depression had set in, the Pendennys coffers were barely functional. To compound matters, some of our mines were depleted. The little things went first: seldom-worn jewels, expensive knick-knacks around the house. Then bigger items went until the house was stripped down to its basics. Last went the horses and the carriage. We kept three horses to ride, but it was nothing compared to a stable that had housed fifteen grand steeds. Philippa was the last to go.
’ He paused. ‘That’s right. Philippa was sold off in her first marriage to the magnificently wealthy Marquis of Cambourne. Then Val went. He and Philippa were young and desperately in love. He couldn’t stay and watch her become the wife of another. But what could he do? If he married her, he doomed the Pendennyses to poverty. There was too much honour in him to do that. By the time I was twenty-one, I’d lost everything, including my sister and my best friend.’ His tone was harsh and bitter.

  This bit of news stunned Lilya. She had not heard this part of the Pendennys history. Philippa had certainly not alluded to any of this in the time she’d been here.

  ‘The worst of it was,’ Beldon went on, ‘I didn’t understand the reason for any of it until it was too late. I was away at school, a very expensive school, I might add, and then my father kept me in London at the Pendennys town house with an allowance. I was ignorant of all that had been sacrificed. I saw only Philippa and her beautiful gowns in town for her Season. I think Philippa was not quite aware either. Even Valerian had been corralled by my father to keep the worst of it from me. I knew there was a general economic depression, but when I asked about our family finances, I was told things were under control, if a little tight. My father was always jovial when he said it as if a few bills were of no real consequence. And why should they be? We’d always had plenty. Money was a fluid and replenishable commodity. My father died a year after Philippa married Cambourne. That was when I discovered part of the Pendennys debt.

  ‘At the time, I thought it was fortuitous Cambourne was on hand. Without his loan, I could never have diversified our holdings and start to claw my way back to financial security.’ He looked meaningfully at Lilya. ‘It wasn’t until Valerian returned after his nine-year absence that I discovered Philippa had been married to Cambourne for his money on purpose. My father had traded her for funds.’

  Beldon gave a wry smile. ‘She came to like and respect Cambourne and he adored his young wife. It wasn’t a bad marriage, but it wasn’t her choice. She had loved Valerian from the start and he loved her, but all that had been set aside for me.’

  Lilya felt Beldon’s grip tighten. ‘I was the heir, I was to be protected at all costs so that I might live the life my father imagined for me, the wealthy scion. It wasn’t until Val came home that I knew all that had been done to protect me from it.’

  ‘And so you’ve spent the last ten years of your life putting the estate to rights,’ Lilya finished softly for him. This part of the story she knew. Beldon had devoted himself selflessly to the restoration of the Pendennys estate. Every pound of every investment had gone into improving the estate he’d become so proud of. She thought she understood now why he’d waited to marry. He wanted to avoid the well-meant sins of his father, making sure the coffers were ready for a family and a wife.

  ‘It’s why I won’t stand by and be so blindly “protected” again.’ There was a resolute fierceness edging his voice. ‘Not by you or anyone else I care for.’

  He cared for her. In that statement the core of Beldon Stratten was revealed, a man who held family and honour dearest of all. It was a good reason to love him, although the fact that he kissed like sin itself was a powerful recommendation, too. Perhaps that was the hour in which she first fell.

  ‘Wait here. There’s something I want to show you.’ Lilya raced upstairs before she could change her mind.

  Chapter Nine

  ‘You want to show me a hat box?’

  ‘Open it.’ She thrust the box at him, her words coming out in a rush. She was breathless from her run and more than a little worried about his reaction. What would he think when he saw it? When she told him? She’d run through the house, not caring who saw her for fear her thoughts might catch up with her, that she might change her mind before she could put the box in Beldon’s hands.

  Beldon opened the lid, his gaze alternating between her and the box, grim and searching. His hands delved into the tissue and Lilya instinctively stepped back, her hands finding the door and shutting it firmly behind her. She’d never shown Adamao to anyone, not even Val and Philippa.

  She knew the moment he’d found the diamond. His hand closed around the smooth glassy surface of it. His eyes narrowed, his mind racing to assess the contents in his hand before he withdrew it from the box, trying to guess what he’d found. He pulled it out and stared.

  ‘What is this, Lilya?’ His voice was a grim mixture of awe and horror, part of him already piecing together conclusions.

  ‘It’s a diamond.’

  Beldon lifted the gem to the light, letting its facets reflect prisms on to the walls and fall. ‘I know that. But it’s not just any diamond. I’ve never seen one of this cut and colour before.’

  ‘It’s a pink diamond, very rare. I don’t know of any others on record. It’s 52 carats.’ She knew it by rote.

  Beldon gave her a considering look. ‘This is what Agyros is after, isn’t it?’

  She nodded. Beldon’s features went hard and she wished for a moment she could have lied. She could see his thoughts in his eyes. ‘It’s not just Christoph,’ she hurried on, ‘there’s a secret society, the Filiki Adamao, that’s been searching for the diamond since its supposed disappearance four hundred years ago.’

  Beldon gave her one of his incredulous, raised-eyebrow stares. While large by gem standards, the diamond seemed insignificant in Beldon’s hand compared to the problems associated with it. He replaced the diamond into the depths of the hat box and put the lid on. ‘Four hundred years? Has it always been with your family?’

  ‘Yes. My father passed it to me the day before his execution,’ she said quietly, taking the diamond from Beldon. She was secretly amazed that he’d given it up so readily. She didn’t think Christoph Agyros would have. ‘After the fall of Constantinople in 1453, the Phanar elders decreed the diamond too great of temptation to our community. They entrusted it to our care. We are to keep it secret for the safety of the Phanar. Greed is a most dangerous temptation.’

  ‘But the Filiki Adamao has not believed that story, that the diamond has been lost,’ Beldon mused. ‘Do they think the diamond will buy them the monarchy?’

  She could see Beldon thought the idea slightly outrageous. A single jewel, rare as it was, for a crown? ‘Of course they do; the Three Powers think they can buy the throne for sixty billion francs. It is no different.’

  ‘So this Filiki Adamao think to be the power behind the throne?’ Beldon’s mind worked fast to assimilate the implications.

  Lilya nodded. ‘Especially now since Leopold of Belgium has refused the throne and Europe is casting about for another kingly candidate.’

  ‘There is talk the throne will be offered to Prince Otto of Bavaria,’ Beldon put in.

  Lilya shrugged, unimpressed. ‘He’s a mere child. Things are more precarious now than ever. Leopold’s refusal has left a vacuum of power. Men are watching and waiting for the chance to fill it. The Filiki must move now before loose ends are sewn up if they wish to influence the new Greece. If they had the diamond, they could buy a king like Otto, control him. That assumes they want a king at all.’

  ‘You think they don’t?’ She heard his doubt. His was a rational, political mind.

  ‘No, it is not clear to me that the Filiki Adamao prefer a king or even independence. Without a king, perhaps they could be in charge as they were in the golden age of Phanar. They do not need a throne to have power.’ History was full of examples of people who ruled without the benefit of a crown; bankers, diplomats, advisors who skillfully guided policies.

  ‘I do not think a diamond could do all that.’ Beldon shook his head sceptically.

  Lilya offered a wry smile. ‘It could if you consider this: Adamao’s appeal isn’t all about its financial worth. Translated, Adamao means “I tame” or perhaps in an older version of the language, “I subdue”. There are those who believe the myth-history surrounding it. Adamao is believed to have been worn by Helen of Troy when she eloped with Pa
ris. Some say Paris stole Helen not for her beauty alone but for the jewel itself because it brought extraordinary good luck and prosperity to those who possessed it.’

  ‘And you’ve had such extraordinarily good luck with it in your possession,’ Beldon said drily.

  ‘Well, I cannot say I’ve experienced the diamond’s purported powers firsthand,’ Lilya answered with a smile, thankful for the relief his brief humour brought. For all the good luck it was reputed to bring, the diamond had brought plenty of despair in the wake of men’s attempts to acquire the jewel for themselves. If one believed the myths, one had only to look to the Trojan War for verification.

  Beldon stood up and paced the length of the small room. ‘What is all this to you, Lilya? Do you care so much for the independence of Greece? You were a child when the wars began and, in truth, you’re little more than that now.’

  The last fired her temper. ‘Little more than a child? What is this to me?’ she flared, anger and disappointment swamping her. She’d hoped for more from Beldon. She had trusted him with her great secret. ‘My brother Alexei was little more than a child when Ottoman soldiers cut him down at Negush.’