by Darcy Burke
“But she has the attitude of a dour matron, I assure you.” Camden crossed his legs and reclined in his seat. “However, she is well-connected, schooled in the fine art of managing a household, and comes with a sizeable dowry. So, I should have expected the men to come calling, despite her less than agreeable nature.”
Did the man not note the regal, graceful, perfection that was Lady Lucianna? Roderick supposed wealth did not lend itself to a keen eye for value and quality.
And make no mistake, no matter how angry he was at Lady Lucianna, how betrayed he felt by a woman who did not know him from the King of France, she was a woman of worth. It only took one look—and a few seconds in her presence—to know she was something special. Something worth having…and keeping.
“I must warn you, this auction may very well see a betting war the likes of Tattersall’s best.” The man chuckled again. “But before we speak of such important matters. Let us toast our new association with a drink.”
Roderick leapt to his feet and moved to the sideboard, not because the marquis had commanded it, but for the sole purpose of hiding his flabbergasted expression—and growing anger—from the man.
The Marquis of Camden had just sat in his study and compared his daughter’s betrothal negotiation to that of a horse at auction.
Devil take it, she was worth more than any horse!
Turning two tumblers right side up, Roderick filled each with a healthy portion of amber spirits. If the marquis’ entrance was any indication, Roderick’s afternoon would not be proceeding as expected.
Camden took his tumbler gratefully and sniffed at the liquor, as if the quality and age of the stuff would lend a good air on the man who’d served it. The brandy they held was aged longer than Camden himself.
How could Roderick have thought making a game of taking Lucianna as wife would be a simple, uncomplicated matter between two men?
Lady Lucianna was complicated at her core; a woman who fenced as well as any accomplished man, a lady who did not shy away from exposing her own father’s misdeeds, and a hoyden who dared invite a gentleman to deepen a kiss only to bite down on his tongue.
“Now, I must admit, your offer to take the girl off my hands is much appreciated,” Camden began, swirling the brandy in his glass. “I fear she has become a handful since her coming out—gallivanting about London, speaking out of turn, and Lord knows what else she does when I—or my staff—are not keeping watch over her.”
Roderick only nodded in agreement. The woman was certainly entangled in far more than her father knew.
“And most recently, Lucianna has seen fit to turn my entire household against me. My younger children, always so obedient and well-mannered, have begun to challenge my authority and even look to Lucianna before adhering to my command. Honestly, I cannot have such mutiny in my home.”
“My lord, I—“
Camden brought his narrowed stare to Roderick’s, cutting off anything he’d thought to say in Lady Lucianna’s defense.
“So, Montrose, in other words, I am very interested in your marriage offer. Unfortunately, I have gained another offer for Lucianna’s hand, though I am not entirely hard-pressed to pick the better lord. She is like any wild filly. She will need a firm hand; possibly need to see the end of a whip every once in a while to keep her in line.”
Roderick’s skin crawled as if a thousand ants marched along every inch of his body.
He was repulsed.
What father instructed his daughter’s suitor to use cruel methods for harnessing her wayward tendencies?
The mere thought was baffling.
And Camden was obviously entertaining offers from other gentlemen. At least Roderick knew he would never raise a hand—or a weapon—against any woman, no matter how irritating their actions or words.
Roderick sat a bit straighter in his chair. Had another perspective husband agreed with Camden: a firm hand and a whip here or there when necessary?
Bloody hell, the marquis sickened Roderick; however, if he withdrew his interest in Lady Lucianna, she might very well be left with a man far less honorable than he.
Roderick would not forsake any woman to that fate—even Lucianna who’d stolen his only opportunity to find his family fortune.
However, marrying Lady Lucianna also meant tying himself to Camden.
He shuddered to think whom Lucianna would find herself betrothed to if it weren’t Roderick. There were many cruel men living within London. Men who by no stretch of the imagination could ever be considered gentlemen. Men who spent their nights in scandalous brothels disguised as legitimate gaming hells. If a gaming hell could ever be legitimate in nature.
Lucianna was helpless to disobey her father’s decision on whom she would marry.
“Ah, well.” Camden emptied his tumbler in one swift gulp and slammed the glass on the desk between them. “I can see you are not the man for her. Which is a pity. I suspect Abercorn will have to do, even though he is as old as Corinthians.”
The Duke of Abercorn?
What would the old duke want with such a young bride?
Neither alternative was acceptable. Turn away from a betrothal to Lady Lucianna and leave her in her father’s clutches—and likely betrothed to Abercorn within a fortnight—or agree to Camden’s conditions and be tied to Lady Lucianna and beholden to her father.
Roderick would never give the impression he’d abuse a woman, no matter what she may do to incite his anger; however, leaving her in Abercorn’s clutches was the same, even if he were the one holding the whip.
“My pursuit of Lady Lucianna is very serious, my lord.” Roderick commanded his shoulders to relax, to look at ease and not alert the marquis to the danger he was in even speaking of injuring a woman. “I am prepared to have the documents prepared and signed whenever you wish it.”
“I will need to discuss it with my daughter. She is unaware of the nature of our business here.”
Roderick wanted to laugh. He suspected Lady Lucianna was never fully unaware of anything.
“I have one request, my lord.”
“Of course, Montrose.” Camden stood, signaling their meeting was nearing an end. Roderick followed suit.
“I wish to call on Lady Lucianna.” It had been many years since he’d attempted to court a woman. Even with Lady Daphne, it had all been arranged and handled behind closed doors. “I think it best she and I become acquainted more before we formally announce our betrothal.”
“If you are to be betrothed,” Camden corrected. “However, a stroll in the park or trip to Bond Street for ices would not be unacceptable.”
“Very well. I will call on her presently.” Hell, he would call on her this very evening, if it would not be seen as too eager. The last thing Roderick needed was for Camden to change his mind and give Lucianna to the Duke of Abercorn. “Shall we bring Lady Lucianna in and tell her about our agreement?”
Roderick wouldn’t mind a bit of time in Lucianna’s presence. Hell, maybe he would be so bold as to request a moment alone with her. They were to be wed, after all. Her father would be a fool not to accept Roderick’s offer and nor could Camden be against allowing the soon-to-be betrothed couple a moment together.
“That will not be necessary, Your Grace.” Camden shook his head and bowed. “I will inform her of my decision, and she will be prepared when you call on her. I will have my man draw up the paperwork for your signature.”
“Of course, my lord.”
There was nothing more Roderick could say or do as the marquis departed the room, soundly closing the door behind him. Truly, there was little Roderick suspected needed to be done at this time. Camden would handle informing Lady Lucianna, and when next they met, she would have no cause to deny him her company.
The sound of two sets of footsteps retracing their way back to the foyer was all Roderick heard as Camden led Lady Lucianna from the house.
For not the first time, Roderick wondered why the marquis had brought his daughter if only to instruct h
er to wait in the hall until they departed.
He refilled his drink and collapsed back into his chair.
He should feel a measure of relief to know that a formal betrothal between him and Lucianna was almost guaranteed, which meant his coffers would be full once more—or at least, back to a more agreeable amount—and he could resume his endeavors to locate the men responsible for stealing from the Montrose estate.
Relief flooded him. A bone deep sense of rightness filled him.
He would have his money—and Lady Lucianna.
His troubles were coming to an end. The confidence that had filled him earlier returned.
Chapter 9
“What was this all for, Father?” Luci asked as she settled her skirts. The carriage dipped as the marquis entered and took the front-facing seat. “Dragging me from the house only to wait in some lord’s hallway seems peculiar.”
Her father, ever the arrogant marquis, only stared at her before shouting to their driver to return them home. No matter her question or her rising temper, the man would not be prodded into answering any of her questions until he was ready to speak.
It was a trait Luci long suspected she’d inherited from the marquis.
She crossed her arms and stared out the window, prepared to wait for her father to speak. Arguing and insisting answers would get her nowhere. Maybe disinterest would lull him into a false sense of security, and he’d speak of what he planned to gain from meeting with Montrose?
Luci kept one eye on him. He didn’t appear upset or furious, so Montrose hadn’t spoken of the Mayfair Confidential and her part in the articles. She was thankful for that much.
Finally, her father sighed, and she turned from the carriage window to see him scrutinizing her. They were much alike, all darkness. Yet, Luci suspected her father’s darkness was far deeper than surface level.
“You have been out of the schoolroom for nearly two years now.”
Truly only fifteen months, but Luci kept that bit of information to herself.
“And you are spending my coin to furnish your second Season.”
As if the Camden coffers were in jeopardy of running dry. Besides, Luci hadn’t the time to spend any money beyond her basic wardrobe last Season before she and her friends went into mourning for Tilda. More accurately, Luci was enjoying just her third month as a debutante.
“Have you found a suitor to your liking?” he asked.
There it was. He wanted Luci to take a man to husband—and depart his household. The marquis would relish that. In one fell swoop, he’d have his hellion of an eldest daughter gone, and no one would stand in his way of treating his wife, Luci’s mother, any way he saw fit.
It would be all the more satisfying when she delivered her next—and finale—blow to the marquis.
“I do not plan to wed, at least not this Season.” After Tilda’s death, and everything Luci had learned about the other unscrupulous men of the ton, she had little hope a decent man existed—with the exception of Lord Torrington. Plus, if she were to wed and move away, who would care for her siblings? There would be no one willing to step between them and their father’s fury.
“Then we are both lucky I have found not one but two suitors for you.” He picked a piece of lint from his sleeve as if his declaration were nothing more than him expressing his love of carnations, while Luci sat still—frozen—unable to process what he’d said. “Obviously, the Duke of Montrose is an influential, shrewd lord, who would make a great addition to the Camden lineage.”
“You think to wed me to…Montrose?” Luci stumbled over the words.
“What did you think our meeting was concerning?” His tone said her father thought her dim-witted.
Luci hadn’t given the meeting much thought beyond her father requesting her accompaniment, which was anything but normal. She and Montrose would make a most disastrous pair—she’d bitten the man, for heaven’s sake.
“He requested an audience to discuss the joining of our two families.” Camden spoke of her betrothal as if he were agreeing to discuss the purchase of a new carriage. “I cannot say I am against the match; however, I have other offers to consider.”
That had Luci pushing back into the cushioned seat. “Other offers?” she squeaked, repulsed by the weak tone in her voice.
“Yes. Abercorn.” He continued to gaze out the window. “Though I am uncertain if Abercorn is the man for you. Three wives and no children. What is to say you won’t marry the man and grow old, never producing an heir—his Dukedom would pass on to another relative and forever be out of Camden control.”
A business arrangement.
Her future had been reduced to nothing more than deciding what would gain her father more in the long run. A virile, robust lord like Montrose, who simply exuded potency and prowess. Or an aging, very wealthy duke like Abercorn, who would bring many business connections but no guarantee for a future including children who would be linked to the Camden name via their mother.
Luci shouldn’t have thought any other option was open to her—unless she’d been able to stall long enough for her twenty-first birthday to arrive; however, she was two years from the date.
Montrose or Abercorn. Was that truly any choice at all?
“Abercorn killed Tilda…and Montrose is a known rakehell,” she hissed, gaining her father’s full scrutiny. “You would make me choose between a murderer and a philanderer? You would enjoy that greatly, wouldn’t you? Men of your own ilk, the pair of them.”
“Lucianna!” he warned in a harsh tone. One that in her youth would have had her mouth clamping shut and her eyes averting to his feet. Not today. Not in this coach. And certainly not in matters dealing with her future. “You—and those silly, foolish women you call friends—caused quite the scene last Season. You are lucky either gentleman will have you. You are tarnished goods, to say the least.”
She’d taken aim at her father and levied her most unforgiving insult; however, she’d said what needed to be said. If her father correlated her words with what had been printed in the London Daily Gazette, it would be a wonder.
Leaning back, Luci crossed her arms and turned her attention to the passing London street.
“Do not sulk, it will cause wrinkles,” he mumbled. “You will marry either Montrose or Abercorn. Whomever I see fit to select for you.”
Luci would rather a coin be tossed into the air to seal her fate.
“And if I will have neither?” she dared ask.
The marquis chuckled, a light, wheezy snort. “I did not raise a chit fool enough to think she has any say in whom I chose for her marriage. Do not be dim, Lucianna, it is very unbecoming.”
“Abercorn killed Tilda,” Luci said. Images of her lovely, bright friend lying lifeless at the bottom of Abercorn’s staircase filled her mind. “You honestly cannot expect me to overlook that damning fact, no matter how tarnished you think I am.”
“That was a sad, unfortunate occurrence. Do not think I completely lack sympathy for the girl. However, that is in the past. I am speaking for the future of the Camden name.” His stealthy glare landed on her, almost begging her to argue further.
“Father, I…” She sucked in a deep breath to stop from sobbing.
“You will marry. And it will be either Abercorn or Montrose.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Then I will drag you before the clergyman and see that the deed is done,” he said with utter calm and composure. He was a man used to getting exactly what he wanted, when he wanted it. That he was prepared to hand his daughter over to a murderer, only meant gaining access to business deals that were before out of his reach. “Now, put a smile upon your face. We are almost home, and you will speak of your two suitors with vigor to your siblings. You will be overjoyed to learn whom I will ultimately offer your hand to.”
“And then you will finally be rid of me.”
Her father sat a bit straighter, an odd grin and faraway look entering his eyes. “Yes, yes, that is another boon I hav
e yet to fully think through, though I will find great happiness in having you out from under my roof.”
Luci could not blink, would not allow her father to think she would go quietly into a marriage she did not agree with—or any marriage at all.
But his stare matched hers in force. Her hurt mirrored in his determination.
Suddenly, the footman pulled the carriage door open.
They’d arrived at home.
“Smile, my dear daughter,” he hissed. “I am certain you would not want to anger me into a hasty ceremony by special license.”
Luci hated herself for giving in, but she smiled. This game was one of finely executed moves, parried by advanced defensive tactics.
Much like fencing.
And that was one sport she would always best her father at.
Chapter 10
One day.
One full day.
Roderick raised his hand to shield his eyes from the blazing sun. Well, it had been at least twenty-three hours.
That was an acceptable amount of time to wait before calling on one’s intended, soon-to-be-betrothed.
Roderick slammed his hand into his jacket pocket to stop the shaking. His other held a large bouquet of yellow blossoms—he hadn’t any notion the variety, but he felt like a coxcomb pacing before the Camden townhouse, scared to knock and face Lucianna.
The idea of her yelling and screaming at him was not what he feared.
No, he feared one question from her: why?
…and that would be the first time he’d be forced to lie to the woman he’d take as his wife.
Roderick would not tell her it was because he needed her dowry. There was no way he would be honest enough to tell her it was because he feared leaving her in Camden’s household. And neither would he start off by asking her to write a retraction to the article in the Gazette.