Even the suave Leo Kincade, it seemed, wasn’t above gaining satisfaction from a little old-fashioned revenge.
* * *
Amos had made a life’s work out of surviving on his wits. Blessed with a more striking physical appearance and a better brain than his older brother, he’d been quick to realise at an early age that there was profit to be had from those attributes. He’d developed a coercive charm that saved him from many a deserved thrashing. Slow-witted Jeb was left to endure the brunt of their father’s cruel temper and be compared unfavourably with his younger sibling.
In adulthood that charm still endeared him to both sexes but Amos preferred male company. Women were all right, in their place, which was in a comfy bed with their legs open and their mouths firmly closed. But a cove couldn’t spend his entire time engaged in carnal relations, and when he needed stimulating conversation, or a decent game of cards and a few bevies, a woman was next to useless. He didn’t look too fondly upon hard work either. But then he’d never had to do too much of it, thanks to a brother who thought he could do no wrong.
Until the selfish bitch he’d married went and killed him, putting paid to Amos’s easy life.
The ladies from Lady Marshall’s house party, escorted by a few of the gentlemen, were taking luncheon at the inn. All the stops had been pulled out for their benefit but, naturally, Amos wasn’t allowed anywhere near them. Instead he was run off his feet by people flocking to the taproom, keen to catch a glimpse of the gentry. He took advantage of the landlord’s preoccupation and kept his own tankard topped up, along with those of the customers, pocketing as much of their blunt as he reckoned he could get away with. He also made sure that he saw and heard everything that was going on in that private room whenever the door opened, which was frequently.
And what he now knew, with a certainty that didn’t leave an iota of room for doubt, was that the woman everyone was deferring to as the Marchioness of Lanarkshire was an impostor.
She was his brother’s widow, Mrs. Katrina Fisher.
Amos was stunned. How in the name of the devil was she getting away with it? And why was she even attempting it? She’d had a fancy education, it was true, which made her think she was above the likes of him. Maybe she was. But she was still no marchioness. These fools deferred to her like she was something special but her gestures were a dead giveaway to someone who knew her as well as Amos did. She had an endearing little habit of tilting her head when she thought she was unobserved, regarding people as though mentally reclothing them. A way of looking people directly in the eye when they spoke to her, making them feel like the rest of the world didn’t exist.
He should know. The little doxy had led him on in that way and then, just when things started to get interesting, went all cold on him. Amos sucked in a breath to prevent himself from giving vent to his seething anger and returned his attention to Katrina.
She played with her fingers when she was nervous. She was doing it now. Couldn’t they see? Her eyes filled with sympathy when she heard a sad story. She’d give a free meal to anyone who’d fallen on hard times. He couldn’t see her eyes now. He was too far away and she was wearing a hat with a silly veil. But that was no impediment because he was intimately acquainted with all her little ways.
He damned well should be. The whole time she was married to his brother, he’d spent more hours than was healthy watching her. Obsessing about the day when she would finally give herself to him.
Oh, she was special all right. But not for the reasons this lot supposed. She’d always had ideas above her station. She was never happy with Jeb, even though it was a good match for her and she should have been grateful he’d taken on such a strong-willed wench, offering her the protection of his name. But did she display her gratitude by behaving like a good wife ought? Amos snorted. Jeb had told him how much she disliked being bedded, which made her all the more desirable in Jeb’s eyes. And in Amos’s too. There was nothing like an unwilling woman to add lead to a man’s pencil. He made Jeb tell him all the particulars, growing hard then just as he was now by having her vicariously.
Amos served a few more customers and returned his mind to the question of her presence here, still at a loss to understand it. The party was breaking up and he melted into the wainscoting, anxious now that she shouldn’t recognise him. By the time they’d left, Amos was well on the way to convincing himself that there could be profit in this situation for him. He could blackmail Katrina into keeping her secret. And into other things too. The devil take it, he’d waited quite long enough for her to lift her skirts for him.
But to carry his plan forward he needed to find a way to get inside Lady Marshall’s estate.
Chapter Twelve
Leo pulled a fresh shirt over his head, preoccupied with thoughts of Julia’s doppelgänger. Until a response to his enquiries shed light on her true identity, he was left to make what sense of her presence he could. He’d welcome anything that explained the irresistible draw he felt towards her, the overwhelming urge to offer her protection in spite of knowing her to be a liar and a fraud. There was a gentle vulnerability about her, a wariness he’d never seen in the real Julia, a fragility that made him afraid for her. Unless he’d lost the ability to read people, she was out of her depth, had taken on more than she’d bargained for. It would take very little pressure to make her do something rash.
She was a lady, but not used to living as a lady. Leo had no idea how he knew it. He just did. She was educated and well mannered but social chit-chat didn’t come naturally to her. He was convinced she had no idea who half the people the other ladies spoke about actually were. But she hid it well and was so good at turning inquisitive questions back on her interlocutors that he doubted whether anyone else had noticed. Even so, the strain was starting to show.
He threw aside his second spoiled neckcloth and started again, blaming the impostor for his fumbling efforts.
Who the devil was she?
She was deeply involved with Julia’s attempts to steal other people’s property, he reminded himself. What other purpose could there possibly be for this elaborate charade? Somehow Leo had no difficulty imagining Julia up to her pretty neck in this business but wondered just how much the impostor actually knew about the real reason for her presence here. He had firsthand knowledge of Julia’s ability to play people off against one another and knew she’d never place anyone’s welfare ahead of her own.
This evening the informal ridotto would provide him with an opportunity to test this other lady. To push her a little to see if anything gave. He was surprised when his conscience put up objections to this resolve, and ruthlessly suppressed them. The woman had presumably entered into the deception for reasons of financial gain and so only had herself to blame. He, on the other hand, had the welfare of the duchess’s tiara to consider and couldn’t afford to waste opportunities to get to the bottom of the fraud.
Neckcloth finally tied to his satisfaction, Leo went downstairs to join the others. The main terrace had been transformed since he’d taken tea there with the ladies a few short hours ago. Several tables had been erected, covered with snowy-white linen and laid with the finest crystal and delicate china. Lavish floral arrangements decorated the centre of each one, and dozens of candles in elaborate candelabra had already been set aflame, even though it was not yet full dark. Garlands of flowers had been draped across the potted shrubs, making fragrant archways for the diners to pass beneath. A group of musicians, established at one end of the terrace, were playing soft, teasing melodies that perfectly matched the atmosphere of intangible promise his godmother’s army of servants had managed to create in so short a time.
Leo’s senses were invaded by a feeling of prescience. Whenever that happened, something outside his control always occurred. He ought to have been alarmed. In situations such as this, unscripted activity almost always spelled trouble. But the mood was set, and he didn’t fight against it. Just this once he would let matters decide their own course.
> Flambeaux lit the long gravel driveway, all the way to the gates. They guarded the entrance to the lake as well, and several couples were already strolling along the path that skirted its perimeter.
“Congratulations.” Leo kissed his godmother’s hand. “I don’t know how you managed to achieve such a transformation in so short a time.”
“Oh, anything’s possible with a rich husband and a butler who could teach Wellington a thing or two about strategic manoeuvres.” Lady Marshall chuckled. “Dawkins is wasted as a mere servant but don’t you dare tell him I said so. I’d be quite lost without him.”
“Your secret is in safe hands.”
“As yours is with me.”
Leo shot her a sideways glance. “I beg your pardon.”
“Lord Dupont really ought not to neglect his lovely wife. It can only lead to trouble.”
“Ah, I see.” Leo paused. “I don’t know what it is that you think you know, Lady Marshall, but I can assure you that Julia Dupont is quite safe from me.” Well, that was certainly true. He had no designs upon Julia but he’d made no such pledge in respect of the impostor.
“If you say so, then I’m perfectly ready to take you at your word. But let’s just hope for your sake that she feels the same lack of interest in you.”
“I’m persuaded that she does.”
Lady Marshall elevated a brow. “Are you? Well then, we’ll say no more about it.” She strolled the length of the terrace, acknowledging guests as she went. Leo fell into step with her. “As you can see, more guests have arrived in anticipation of the ball tomorrow. Goodness knows where Dawkins has found to sleep them all. Anyway, I believe you know them all. Since we are to be informal tonight, I will let you discover them for yourself rather than bother with stuffy introductions that are unnecessary anyway.”
“Of course.”
“Oh!”
They both turned at the sound of Julia’s voice. “What have you done to the terrace, Lady Marshall?” Her face was alight with pleasure. “It looks…well, mythical.”
She had chosen the one word to describe it that had eluded Leo.
“Oh, we were being far too boring, sitting in that dining room night after night when the weather is so fine. We were in danger of falling out with one another because we had nothing better to do than squabble. This will serve much better.”
“I believe you’re right as always.” She smiled at Lady Marshall and slowly turned towards Leo. “Good evening, Lord Kincade.” She dipped a graceful curtsey.
“Lady Dupont.”
“Pray excuse me.” Lady Marshall was already edging away, looking almost annoyed. “I believe I see Mrs. Nugent about to address Lord Gower and they haven’t been properly introduced. Really, I know she has ambitions for her daughter to marry well. Gower is considered to be an eligible parti so I understand her anxiety to stake an early claim. But you would think that if the woman aspires to a position within society, she would take the trouble to acquaint herself with its rules first.” She puffed out her cheeks, clearly affronted to see such crass behaviour on her terrace. “I should not have let Marshall persuade me to invite her but he was quite adamant on the point. I believe he wishes to interest her husband in some business venture.” She paused and smiled at them both. “I know Lady Dupont will be safe in your care, Leo.”
“I didn’t know Gower was expected.” Leo’s tone was mild, showing none of the antipathy he felt towards the man as he placed the impostor’s hand on his sleeve and steered her towards the gravel walk. “Shall we take some air?”
“By all means.” She appeared surprised by the suggestion but put up no objection. She also didn’t show the slightest discomfort at the mention of Gower’s name, obviously not knowing who he was.
“That gown is another triumph.” He glanced down at shiny cream material richly decorated with pink rose buds and embedded with jewels.
“Thank you.”
“Your friend Mrs. Sinclair again.”
The impostor arched a brow. “You recalled me mentioning her name. Let us hope for the sake of her reputation that some of the other ladies do, as well.”
“Her welfare is that important to you?”
“Oh yes.” She looked flustered and appeared anxious to change the subject. Leo wondered why. “I see Miss Ainsworth has made better of herself this evening,” she remarked, nodding towards the child in question, clad demurely in white muslin.
Leo didn’t have the slightest interest in the Ainsworth chit and it was his turn to change the subject. “Shall you be embarrassed by Lord Gower’s presence?”
She opened her eyes very wide. “Why should I be?”
“You set so little store by that unfortunate episode then?” Leo watched her closely. Her brow furled and she was clearly desperate to know what unfortunate episode he referred to. “That’s a relief. I can’t stand unpleasantness.”
“I’m a married woman now, Lord Kincade,” she said, averting her eyes. “Anything that went before is no longer relevant. Lord Gower is a gentleman so I can rely upon him to have a selectively short memory. I hope the same can be said for you.”
It was a clever answer and he gave her full marks for ingenuity. The mention of Julia’s dalliance with the man who’d caused Leo to pass her over didn’t disconcert her, implying that Julia hadn’t bothered to enlighten her as to the true nature of their history. She wouldn’t have expected Leo to be here but would almost certainly have known that Gower’s name was on the guest list. So too would her maid. Why had she not thought to forewarn the impostor?
“Be that as it may, since Dupont is not here to protect you the situation could become embarrassing.”
“I don’t see why.” She offered him a perfunctory smile that didn’t trouble her eyes. “I am not afraid of Lord Gower.”
“Evidently not.” He steered her away from a couple who looked as though they might seek to detain them. “But a word to the wise. You might have good reason to think you know Gower but he isn’t to be trusted. When he discovers you here alone, I suspect he’ll make a nuisance of himself. Outdoor events, especially those as atmospherically arranged as this one, leave themselves open to inappropriate behaviour.”
She veiled her eyes with lashes far longer than Julia’s. “But you wouldn’t take advantage of such a situation yourself?”
“In the blink of an eye, if I thought there was any prospect of my advances being welcomed.”
“Ah, then I have nothing to fear from you.” She sighed, as though feigning regret. “I feel persuaded that Miss Ainsworth would be more than receptive.”
“Miss Ainsworth?” Leo offered her a predatory smile, his eyes lingering on her profile until her cheeks coloured and she looked away first. He was almost ashamed of what he was deliberately doing to her, especially since she possessed precious few weapons with which to counter his attacks. Then he recalled that she was in league with Julia for nefarious reasons he had yet to fathom and hardened his heart. “Chits barely out of the schoolroom are of no interest to me.”
“Her mother will be desolate.” She pursed her lips so primly that Leo was seized with a desire to kiss her senseless, until those lips lost their disapproving look and softened beneath his, just as they had that very morning. “But then again, perhaps it’s not her daughter’s interests that Lady Ainsworth is thinking about.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve seen the way she looks at you. I get the impression the two of you are better acquainted than you would have the world believe.”
“My, my, Julia.” He arched a brow, a deliberately provocative half smile playing about his lips. “Do I detect a note of jealousy?”
She tossed her head. “Certainly not! It was merely an observation. I mean, we have to talk about something as we walk up and down. It would look very peculiar if we didn’t.”
“And the only topic that appears to interest you is my amatory ambitions.”
“Anything but.”
“Even so, let me put
your mind at rest. I would never contrive to come between a lady and the man who excites her passion.” He drilled her with an expressive look. “I was thinking more about Mrs. Nugent.”
“Mrs Nugent!”
“Indeed. She’s very attractive and clearly available. What’s more, I hear that she and her husband lead separate lives. If she wishes to learn more about the ways of society then I could be persuaded to—”
“But I thought your scruples forbade you from bedding another man’s wife,” she said a little too quickly.
He regarded her from beneath lazily hooded eyes, his smile deliberately somnolent. “Exceptions can always be made. Besides, Nugent is eager to make an impression in our world. Even if he found out about his wife’s infidelity, he would hardly be in a position to object without putting paid to his ambitions. Society would be bound to take my part, you see.”
“Of all the pompous, conceited…” The impostor swallowed. “This is a side of you I’ve not seen before and you ought to be aware that it doesn’t make for a pleasant spectacle.”
Leo wagged a finger beneath her nose. “People in glass houses, Julia.”
He turned her into a side walk that was unlit and totally deserted, and pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Hard. She gasped, clearly taken completely by surprise. As was he. He hadn’t planned this. It was the result of an overwhelming urge that grew more insistent the longer he spent in her company. In the end he’d given up trying to suppress it and simply allowed instinct to guide him. The small fists that beat indignantly against his chest stilled and she made no more effort to pull out of his arms. Smiling to himself at her easy capitulation, he released her again almost immediately.
The Perfect Impostor Page 14