by Jaimey Grant
“You told me to hush,” Adam hissed back. “Oomph!”
“What was that, young man?” the countess inquired imperiously.
Adam rubbed at his bruised ribs and scowled at his smiling wife. “Welcome to Lockwood House, my lady,” Adam said with a bow. “If you would be so good as to follow Mrs. Campion, she will show you to your rooms.” He smiled pleasantly at Levi’s mama. Well, as pleasantly as could be expected from a man with bruised ribs, an unwelcome guest, and a pregnant wife whose moods were as mercurial as the English weather.
The housekeeper stepped forward in order to do her master’s bidding. Lady Greville ignored the servant and glared at her niece. “And what about you, missy? Are you not going to welcome your beloved aunt?”
Adam received another poke in the ribs when he smirked at the woman’s mistaken view of herself. Levi tried to sneak around his mother, feeling every inch the coward and not caring one jot. Anyone who knew his mother would understand.
Bri moved forward to greet her aunt. Unfortunately, her pregnancy still gave her a touch of queasiness upon occasion. She smiled and accidentally inhaled the aroma of Lady Greville. Her face turned a shade of yellow-green that was truly remarkable for how closely it matched her aunt’s gown. Clapping a hand to her mouth, she fled before she disgraced herself by casting up her accounts all over her “beloved” aunt.
Adam muttered something and followed his wife out, leaving the earl to fend for himself. Mrs. Campion was quick to follow in the baronet’s wake to help her mistress in any way she could.
Levi sighed, his normal sunny countenance falling. “Well, Mama,” he said as he helped her to a chair. “How are you?”
The woman settled her bulk on the recently abandoned sofa, ignoring the chair Levi had directed her to. Levi eyed the dainty chair with misgiving. He had never realized before that his cousin’s taste in furniture was more pleasing to the eye than sturdy.
Lady Greville removed her ugly bonnet and set it beside her. “Explain,” she commanded curtly.
Levi knew exactly what she was referring to but he wanted to delay the moment of his execution as long as possible. “Explain what?” he asked with a quizzical expression.
“Why have you cut off my allowance, Greville?” she demanded. “I have not been able to purchase a new gown for the past three weeks.”
Thank God for that. “Indeed, Mama. I am sorry.”
“Why have you done it? I have found the most beautiful silk in the most delightful shade of pomegranate and I had planned to have it made into the most becoming gown. But because of you I cannot even afford to buy it,” she complained.
“We never could,” he muttered to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. He didn’t raise his voice, knowing exactly what his mother’s response would be.
She heard him anyway. “Nonsense, Greville. We are of the upper class. We can afford anything we choose.”
Not when the money wasn’t there to support the claim to wealth. Levi met his mother’s eyes. “What has stopped you from making your purchase, Mother?”
“You cut off my funds, I told you. Are you not listening to a word I am saying?” Her voice took on the tones of a petulant child.
He shook his head, sure he was missing something but unable to put his finger on it. “What has that to do with anything? Credit would still get you whatever your heart desires.” Unless it’s another house.
Lady Greville’s face mottled with rage. “They have cut us off, Greville. They will advance no more credit. I told them what you would do when you returned but they laughed and said they would sell me nothing until you settled the accounts.”
The sigh that the earl emitted was a heartfelt shudder. He’d known it would happen eventually. His need for a wealthy bride had increased tenfold in the time he’d been separated from his mother and he hadn’t even been aware of it.
“What are you going to do about it?” the countess demanded, every line of her large form rigid with haughtiness.
Levi stood and paced the room. “There is no money, Mama,” he said finally. “It is gone. I have tried nearly everything I can think of to fix the matter but nothing has worked.”
“There is no money?” she breathed in patent disbelief.
Lord, she’s quick. “No, Mama, none. Zero. I cannot afford to frank your extravagant purchases anymore.”
“You are blaming me? Just because I buy a few pretty things to make my last days more bearable because I am cursed with a son who ignores me and does not even have the goodness to marry and provide me with companionship in my declining years?”
“A few pretty things? Good Lord, Mother, the money you have spent on clothing and folderols in the past month could thatch nearly every roof at Greville Castle.” And not a damned thing can be considered pretty. “Furthermore, I don’t ignore you. I am trying to find a way to continue to fund your shopping habit. Devil take it, I am only five and twenty! I should not need to take a wife yet.” And damned if I’d curse the future Lady Greville with you as companion.
He paused, his narrow-eyed gaze raking critically over her ample form. “What do you mean, your declining years? You are as healthy as a horse.”
“Oh, you are so unfeeling, you unnatural child! You are just like your father.” The countess pulled a handkerchief the size of a bedsheet from her equally gigantic reticule and snuffled into it. In her distress, she forgot her face paint and large stripes appeared on her face.
There were worse things than being compared to the late earl, Levi thought as he watched his mother’s performance. Her acting skills were much improved. She actually cried this time. He could not smell the onion scent that usually accompanied her hysterical outbursts. He silently applauded her.
The woman could give Raven a run for her money.
“I will come about, Mama,” he said soothingly. She only whimpered louder. “And I will reinstate your allowance,” he added, defeated.
She peeked over the edge of her handkerchief. “Promise?”
“I promise, Mama. Then you can buy every ug—, er, lovely thing your heart desires.”
He started pacing again, adding, “I actually have a plan.” Bri would have killed him had she seen. She always complained that he would wear a hole in her carpet with his constant pacing.
“What plan is that, my son?”
She was all business now. The only proof that she had been weeping was the streaks in her face paint.
And he was suddenly her son again.
“I will marry money,” he stated simply. The idea gave him a sick feeling that he had not experienced before. He realized that he didn’t want to marry anyone just for her money and he definitely did not want anyone to marry him for his title and vast holdings. He wanted love.
How pathetic.
He wanted Aurora Glendenning with her pert smile and turquoise eyes. He wanted to wake up every morning next to her and make love to her every night. He wanted it to be her pixie-like countenance across from him at the dining table. He wanted to love her and be loved by her.
He wanted the impossible, he told himself savagely. Even if she had the money he so desperately needed, there was no guarantee that she would ever love him. Devil it, he had no business wishing for something so unlikely.
“I will marry money,” he repeated determinedly.
He missed the look of cunning that crossed his mother’s doughy features. Had he seen it, he may have been truly frightened of her for the first time in his life.
~~~~~~
“I know all about your association with Lord Greville,” Aurora told her companion that morning. Ellie had taken Rhiannon and stepped away to give them some privacy. The maid hovered halfway between the two groups in case she was needed by either.
Raven stared straight ahead. “What do you know and who told you?” she asked quietly.
“Sir Adam told me of your relationship. He implied that you may be trying to start mischief by seeking me out,” Aurora suggested straightforwardly. Aft
er a lot of thought, she had decided that bluntness was the best approach to this possible problem.
“Adam said that, did he? And I thought he was my friend.”
“Oh, he is, I assure you. He worries for you and he said his wife does as well. Lord Connor expressed his concern and even said that Lord Greville wondered what was wrong when you resigned from the theater. They all seem to think you have taken Lord Greville’s dismissal too close to heart.”
Raven shrugged. “Perhaps. I did hear your name linked with his,” she pointed out.
“Have you? So has most of the polite world,” Aurora retorted dryly. “That does not mean there is a shred of truth to it, you know. I was unfortunate enough to be there when his lordship got himself into a bit of a pickle. I helped him out of it with Lord Derringer’s assistance. But then I made the mistake of crossing the duke and he said something that damaged my reputation and effectively linked my name with that of Lord Greville.”
Twisting her fingers together, Aurora continued, her voice low and sincere. “I apologize for any hurt I may have inadvertently caused you. I did not know you loved him. It must be very difficult to have to strive to make ends meet and have to do certain things many would condemn you for.”
Raven sighed. Aurora watched emotions flit across the other woman’s face, curious at the changing expressions, deeply aware that Raven was laboring under some very strong feelings of rejection. She couldn’t help but feel sorry for her and a little guilty for being the apparent cause of the other woman’s pain.
Despite this awareness, she was unprepared for her companion’s reaction.
Miss Raven Emerson burst into tears.
She was even lovely when she cried, Aurora thought with a pang of jealousy. She wondered if the earl was in love with the actress as well. It would not be at all surprising despite the woman’s obviously distressful shortcomings.
“Tell me about it,” Aurora gently urged. She patted the other woman’s arm consolingly and pressed a tiny scrap of muslin into her hand.
And Raven did. She told Aurora all about her family of nine sisters—five of whom died before she ever knew them, her ailing father, and her fairly strict religious upbringing. She confessed to her feelings of guilt and worthlessness whenever she pondered the steps she had taken in her life. She told of her desperation when she had first met Adam and her own fleshly desires when she had met Levi.
This last Aurora understood wholeheartedly. She had found herself imagining more than once what it would be like to make love with Levi Greville. The thought never failed to alarm her considering she had experienced the act once before and she had decided at that time that once was quite enough. But Lord Greville had a way of making one willing to toss all one’s beliefs and principles right out the window for just a glimpse of his boyish smile.
“You are not a bad person,” Aurora reassured her now silently weeping companion. “You have made some mistakes. We all have. The important thing now is to adhere to your resolutions. Do not allow yourself to give in to temptation again.” Follow your own advice, Aurora Glendenning.
Raven sniffed and blew her nose. She offered a watery smile and Aurora marveled that the woman could look positively alluring right after indulging in a hefty bout of the vapors.
“I am sure you have committed some disastrous sin, Miss Glendenning,” Raven said with heavy sarcasm.
“Actually”—Aurora grimaced—“I have. When I was seventeen, I decided I had to know all about,” she glanced at her new friend, “you know, making love. So I set out to discover what I could.”
“That is hardly a sin,” Raven pointed out reasonably. “A lot of young women seek to end their ignorance of sexual matters by reading certain naughty texts and asking questions wherever they can.”
“Yes, but few actually decide to add to their knowledge by indulging in the act themselves,” Aurora commented dryly. At Raven’s shocked expression, Aurora nodded. “I did. I asked a certain friend of mine to make love to me so I could know exactly what all the fuss was about. He was only too willing to oblige me.”
“What did you think?” Raven couldn’t help asking.
“It was rather unpleasant, really. I think Desmond lied to me when he boasted of his popularity with the ladies. I swore then and there that I would never give in to temptation again and I aim to stick to that vow even if it kills me,” she declared firmly.
Raven’s face twitched suspiciously. Aurora rolled her eyes. “Go ahead and laugh. It is ridiculous, isn’t it?”
The actress did laugh but there was a certain bitter quality to it. Glancing away, she said quietly, “It will not always be that way. One day, the man will come along who will wake you, teach you to live.”
Aurora stared at her companion. “Logic would agree with you, I know. Why else would so many women willingly become mistresses? Granted, there are some who are desperate, who would do almost anything to avoid starvation, but I refuse to believe that all women who enter the ranks of the fashionable impure do it only for the money.”
“Society does not operate on logic, Miss Glendenning. Have you considered those women are just evil?”
Eyes narrowing shrewdly, Aurora replied, “You are not evil, Miss Emerson, no matter how much you believe you are.”*****
*
Chapter Eight
As Raven left, the Duke of Derringer arrived.
The actress nodded pleasantly to the tall peer, not even hesitating in her trek to the park gates. Derringer didn’t spare her more than a cursory glance from atop his horse as they passed each other.
He was well aware of her identity. Indeed, what kind of underhanded rogue would he be if he was unaware of the best actress since Sarah Siddons? Everyone knew of her.
Apparently, Aurora was cultivating an association with the woman with little regard for her own reputation. Smirking, Derringer acknowledged that he’d already gone a long way in ruining that anyway.
The duke was cynical enough to realize Raven’s interest in Aurora Glendenning could not be entirely innocent. If his spies were to be believed—and Derringer trusted them as much as he trusted any low-class street ruffian paid to spy on his betters—Miss Raven Emerson was not as sane as she portrayed herself. Rumor said she’d taken her dismissal very ill indeed.
He’d keep an eye on the hauntingly lovely Raven Emerson. One never knew what a woman scorned was capable of.
Reining in next to Aurora’s perch on a park bench, he offered a mocking smile. Instead of scowling or simply walking away, Aurora smiled back. Derringer found himself a trifle startled.
The Duke of Derringer was never startled.
“Your grace,” she murmured, her very expression revealing how uncomfortable she knew she’d made him. “How are you enjoying this lovely weather?”
He slid from Satan’s back. Dropping the reins, he told the horse to go away.
“Did you just tell your mount to go away?”
Derringer shrugged and lowered his lanky form onto the bench beside her. “He is not being very cooperative today. He needs some time to himself.”
“Oh, of course,” she said, her tone so disbelieving that Derringer felt actual mirth.
“How are you faring since Almack’s?”
“I am faring quite well, my lord. I am surprised you care to inquire, considering any discomforts I experience were caused by you.”
He shrugged. “You broke the rules, Rory.”
“What rules?”
He turned to meet her gaze, marveling at the color of her eyes, wondering how he was going to broach the subject he needed to without finding himself on the other end of Levi’s dueling pistol.
Unknowingly adopting the same attitude Aurora had just minutes before with Raven, he opted for blunt truth.
“You realize I know far more than just his name, do you not?”
She released a breath of annoyance, her back stiffening until Derringer was sure she’d just bend right over backward.
“I fail to
see why you concern yourself in my affairs. You are the veriest busybody.”
He leaned in, meaning to intimidate, oddly impressed when she refused to be intimidated. “You are my concern because Levi Greville is my concern. You will destroy him with your lies and that is something I cannot allow.”
She ducked her head, but not before her bonnet hid the flush creeping up her cheeks. That was enough of an admission for Derringer.
“Why are you here?”
Her head shot up. “I am always in the park at this time. My sister…” She gazed around, saw Miss Ellison with Rhiannon and waved them back.
“Not in the park. Why are you in London? What are you looking for?”
“The same as any young lady in London for the Season. A husband.”
“What are your requirements?”
“Why?”
He hardly knew. He didn’t want nor did he need to know. He already suspected. His spies had been very thorough in regard to Miss Glendenning.
Shrugging, his reply sounded as uninterested as he intended. “Humor me.”
But Aurora Glendenning refused to be drawn. She gave him a placid look, as if trying to take his measure and unsure what to make of him.
Which was quite acceptable to him. He smiled. She glanced away, most likely to reassure herself that her sister was safe but he was unprepared for her sudden gasp of shock.
The duke followed her line of vision, seeing a man of quite the prettiest countenance he’d ever beheld. As blond as Aurora, the man would have made a perfect match for the lovely Glendenning chit.
Aurora looked away, closed her eyes, mumbled something the duke couldn’t comprehend, and looked back. Derringer knew what she would see, since his gaze had never really left the other man.
“He’s gone, Rory.”
She turned at his soft tone, attempting a smile and a shaky, nonchalant, “Who?”
Her breathing returned to normal as the tension slowly left her body. Derringer resisted the urge to comfort her, his need to remain aloof paramount.
“Who is he?”