The Scarlet Bride

Home > Other > The Scarlet Bride > Page 14
The Scarlet Bride Page 14

by Cheryl Ann Smith


  Years from now, she didn’t want to feel a single regret when she thought back on these stolen moments with Simon.

  Laura looked forward to getting out of the courtesan school and clearing her name. Well, Sabine’s name. And since they were one and the same, it would be her neck stretched if anything went awry. But she had confidence in Simon, and in herself.

  “Well, I do,” she said softly. “Sharing your bed, though delightful, muddles the situation. I cannot think clearly when my life is so unsettled.” He lifted his head and stared into her eyes. “I look forward to the day when I am truly free to make clear and confident decisions on my own, about my future, and about you. I hope you understand?”

  “I know you long for freedom. It will happen.” He released her and drew back. The coach paused before making a right turn. “And if it means I must submit to cold baths in order to keep my armor shining bright, then so be it.”

  She giggled. “You are a very honorable knight.”

  “It’s a curse.” He took her hand and turned her arm up. He nibbled from her wrist to the crook of her arm and back. She watched him with a gentle smile as he tickled her skin.

  “If you ever find that mixing yourself up in my troubles is too much of a trial and wish to step away, I will understand.” Laura eased her arm free. “You have already far exceeded your duties to me.”

  Simon dipped his head and looked straight into her eyes. “We started this together, love. We will finish it together.”

  Smiling, Laura leaned in and sealed their pact with a kiss.

  Collingwood House?” Laura asked, her eyes wide. The mansion loomed as the coach drew to a halt on the drive. Three days had passed since their outing in the hackney with no word from Simon. She’d grown concerned about his absence.

  Where was he? Had he been hurt? Then he’d shown up at the courtesan school and spirited her away without justifying his disappearance. Now they were pulling up to one of the grandest houses in London and she was very confused.

  “Why are we at Collingwood House?” she demanded. “I am not leaving this coach without an explanation.”

  He frowned. “You know this house?”

  “I have never been inside, but the earl drove me past it once and noted it with envy.” The place was beautiful. Stone and brick, it was the grand home of a duke and duchess. “It is impossible to forget.”

  The coachman opened the door, but Simon waved him off.

  Laura’s puzzlement grew. She stubbornly crossed her arms and glared. “If you have some sinister reason for bringing me here, you’ll have to drag me out.”

  Simon shook his head. “It is nothing as dismal as that. You will understand in a few moments.” He pinned her with a hard stare. “Before we go inside, I need your word that everything you are about to see and hear must be kept in strictest confidence.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  “You won’t,” he said. “You are all aquiver with curiosity.” It wouldn’t change a thing if she tried to deny his comment. He was correct. She’d risk almost anything for a peek inside the fine home.

  “You are such an exasperating man.” She scowled and nodded reluctantly. “I promise.”

  Reaching out, he tugged one of her tightly clenched hands free and tucked it in his. “I am not taking you into a lion’s den,” Simon remarked lightly. “You’ll not be locked in a secret dungeon or stretched out on a rack. In fact, I’m certain Collingwood House has no dungeon.”

  She shot him a scathing glare. “You shroud this all in mystery and expect me not to have misgivings?”

  “Have I ever harmed you?”

  “You have not.”

  He tucked her hand under his arm. “You’ll learn some things today that must remain secret. Once this visit is concluded, you will be returned to the courtesan school unscathed—unless, of course, I decide to drag you to the nearest inn and ravish you senseless.”

  Laura flushed. Since the night at his manor, they’d limited their sensual contact to a few stolen kisses and an occasional caress. She was torn over her growing feelings for Simon and the knowledge that the more liberties she allowed, the harder their eventual break would be. And what if there was a child?

  The door loomed and a butler swung open the panel. She drew Simon to a halt a few feet away. “You agreed to behave. I am suspected of murder, and you need to focus on finding a bride. There will be no seduction.”

  She didn’t want to tell him the true reason for her desire to keep him at arm’s length. Respectability. She’d been an innocent when she’d married. The earl had turned her into a courtesan.

  The night with Simon had given her another piece of herself back: the ability to choose for herself. But she wanted all of Laura back—the girl who’d dreamed of love, marriage, and children. Though her innocence was gone, she would take back her respectability with both hands.

  Taking a lover was not part of that, even a desperately handsome and skilled lover.

  “I wasn’t—” He stopped, his gaze turning from seductive to dark. He scanned her face and must have noted the set of her jaw. “I did agree. I’m not Westwick, who would force you into my bed.”

  Laura winced. She wanted to assure him that she’d never see him that way, to ease the sting of her rejection, but decided to leave the matter alone. “Thank you again for understanding.”

  A grunt was his reply.

  Turning, Simon escorted her up the stairs, and the butler nodded. “Welcome, Mister Harrington. Miss Prescott. His Grace and Her Grace are waiting in the library. This way.”

  The duke and duchess? He was taking her to meet the duke and duchess? Laura’s stomach twisted painfully. What sort of insanity was this? You did not bring a former courtesan to meet a duke and duchess, even if she wasn’t a courtesan by choice. “Simon,” she hissed under her breath. “You cannot introduce me to the duke and duchess. It is unseemly.”

  “You were invited,” he said sharply and followed the butler. “I wouldn’t bring you here otherwise.”

  Laura hurried to keep up. He’d never spoken to her so harshly. Obviously her comment had stung deeper than she’d expected. He was clearly angry. Still, she couldn’t worry about him at present. The butler paused outside a room.

  It was too late to flee! All she could do was brace herself as the butler reached for the door handles.

  The servant swung open the set of double doors and stood back to let them pass. Laura shifted her gaze briefly over the fine furnishings, the huge fireplace, and the high ceiling, before dropping her attention to the couple sitting comfortably together on a settee.

  The duke stood. He was handsome to a fault. Tall and impeccably dressed in black, he cut an imposing figure. The duchess was shorter, petite, and lovely. Her reddish-gold hair was upswept in a fashionable twist, and her gown was green and costly.

  Standing there in a simple cream frock, her slippers worn and her gloves threadbare, Laura wanted to hide under their beautiful Oriental rug.

  “Harrington.” The duke walked over and offered his hand to Simon. “I understand you have fallen into an offal pit. Murder? Surely you could find a better use for your time?”

  “Your Grace.” Simon frowned and glanced at Her Grace. “I see my cousin has filled you in on our troubles. I assure you that getting involved in a murder was never my intention.”

  The duchess was Simon’s cousin? She almost groaned aloud and stared with longing at the rug, mentally measuring it for size. It was certainly large enough for her to wriggle under.

  Simon had other ideas for her. He turned to her and pulled her forward. “Your Grace, this is Miss Laura Prescott.”

  The duke stared.

  Laura dropped to a deep bow. “Your Grace.” If the duke and duchess knew about the murder, they must know her story, too.

  Her face burned. With her eyes downturned, she desperately wished for an open window, an unlatched terrace door, some avenue of escape. Alas, with Simon at her elbow and the doors closed behind her, she
was trapped.

  She straightened, her tongue tangled. There was nothing she could say. The situation was shameful.

  “Welcome to Collingwood House, Miss Prescott,” the duke said graciously. “The duchess has spoken fondly of you.”

  Fondly? Her puzzlement grew.

  His Grace led her to the duchess, who watched the interaction with hooded eyes. When Laura got within reach, she realized there was something familiar about the woman, though she was positive they’d never met.

  It was the amber eyes. She knew she’d seen them before, but where? Simon moved up behind her before she could make a connection.

  “Your Grace, this is Miss Laura Prescott.” There was humor in his voice. The duchess scowled at him.

  “Simon, you are a bore,” she said. “Noelle said you were troublesome, and you have confirmed her observation time and time again. Now you have brought your difficulties into my home. Wasn’t it enough that you invaded my school, as though my rules were meant to be ignored? Now you have tumbled into a murder plot and have decided to include my family in your mess.”

  Laura felt her blood pool in her feet. Miss Eva. The duchess was Miss Eva. She’d spent weeks with a duchess and hadn’t gleaned a single clue as to her real identity.

  Light-headed from the shocking discovery, she wobbled slightly. The shame of her past was never as great as now. A duchess knew her most scandalous secrets.

  “Laura?” Miss Eva took her hand and quickly led her to the settee. “Simon, get her some tea. No, make it a brandy.”

  A moment later, a glass was thrust into her hand. “Drink this,” Miss Eva commanded.

  Laura took a sip, and then tossed back the contents. Unused to spirits, it burned. She coughed and pressed the back of her hand to her lips.

  The spirit worked. Her eyes regained focus.

  She stared at the duchess and found her voice. “Miss Eva. Then you are cousin to Miss Noelle, too?” She knew from Simon that he was Miss Noelle’s cousin. Now there were two. The family was certainly an unusual mix.

  Her Grace nodded and took her hand. “Simon didn’t tell you about our connection on the ride over?” Laura shook her head. The duchess scowled again. “No wonder you are in shock. I shall have my footmen take him into the garden and beat him.”

  Laura sighed. “Yes, please.”

  The duke chuckled. “I’d make a run for the door if I were you, Harrington. The footmen are a sizable lot.”

  Simon walked to a sideboard and poured himself a drink. Then another. He appeared slightly uneasy and Laura took some satisfaction in that.

  “I do apologize for my cousin,” Miss Eva said. “Though I haven’t known Simon long, he grew up with Noelle. According to her, he was a horrid tease. That has obviously not changed. I have myself discovered that he is both a bother and without manners. I cannot understand why you put up with him.”

  “He saved my life,” Laura said weakly. She was certain that at any moment she’d wake up from this very odd dream and find herself in bed at the school, relieved that this was all only part of her imaginative mind.

  The duchess harrumphed. “I suppose we should all be grateful for the intervention that saved your life.” She stared at Simon. “Obviously, he does have his uses.”

  This time Simon grinned.

  Laura frowned and ignored him. Curiosity drew her back to Her Grace. She gave the duchess a quick look-over. Her Miss Eva disguise had worked well. If not for her eyes and voice, Laura would never have put them together as one person.

  “You are both Miss Eva and a duchess? How can that be?”

  Her Grace released her hand and reached to pour the tea. “I know a former courtesan who lived a difficult life. I helped her find a new identity. I wanted to help other courtesans escape sexual bondage, too. So I founded my school.”

  It was a simple tale. Laura suspected that there was much more to the story. “And the disguise?”

  “I keep my two worlds separate. Very few trusted people know that I’m a duchess and a courtesan rescuer. It keeps gossips from digging into my privacy. That is why I ask for your discretion.”

  “Of course, Your Grace.” This was a fascinating turn. Laura’s respect for Miss Eva grew. She had everything a woman could ever want, yet she still made the trip to Cheapside nearly every day to help other, less fortunate women.

  Her Grace smiled. “When I am at the school, I ask that you call me Miss Eva. Sophie knows the truth; the courtesans do not. The secret protects both them and me.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.” It was almost impossible to reconcile Miss Eva as the duchess. Yet the warmth in Her Grace’s eyes was the same as she saw in Miss Eva with her courtesans. Though she was often a tough taskmaster, she wanted only the best for her young ladies. And the young women adored their teacher.

  The duchess looked at her husband over the rim of her cup. Laura glanced between them and saw the love in their eyes. Though she’d suspected that Miss Eva had a secret life, Laura never would have dreamed that the woman was the cherished wife of a duke.

  How she envied them!

  “I think we should get to the reason for your visit, Harrington,” the duke said, breaking into her musings. “I believe you want to embroil my wife and myself in some scheme?”

  “Perhaps you should hear my idea before you decide?” Simon offered. “You may not find it distasteful.”

  “So this doesn’t involve the murder?” the duke pressed.

  Laura wasn’t sure if the duke was pleased or disappointed that the plan might not include a dangerous element. There was a wicked light in his eyes.

  “I, too, would like to be privy to his plan,” Laura said. “I am as curious as you are.” The two men took a pair of chairs. The duke tapped his fingertips on the arms, showing his impatience. The three of them waited while the mantle clock ticked.

  Finally Simon spoke. “I need for you to throw a party, a grand party here at Collingwood House.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  His Grace and Eva stared at him. Two pairs of eyes narrowed suspiciously. Simon waited for a protest, something, but they appeared content to wait for him to explain. Then they could refuse him outright.

  Simon knew he was about to break Laura’s confidence. He had no choice. In spite of his annoyance that she felt the need to warn him off for a second time, as if he were incapable of accepting her decision to remain chaste, he still felt extremely protective of her. Revealing her secret to Eva and Nicholas would further assure her safety. If anything happened to him, they would see her relocated away from London.

  So he began, “As you know, Lord Westwick was murdered and his missing courtesan is suspected in the deed.”

  “This is the murder you mentioned in your note?” Eva asked. She shared a glance with her husband.

  “The very one.” Simon glanced at Laura. Her face had gone white. She’d shared her story with Eva, Noelle, and Sophie, but never mentioned Westwick by name. He plunged ahead, “Laura is the missing courtesan, Sabine.”

  “What?” His Grace sat upright in the chair. His sharp eyes turned on Laura. “You brought a murderess to my home?”

  Eva held up her hands. “Darling, calm down.”

  “I will not calm down.” Outraged, the duke came to his feet. “You must leave at once.”

  Simon stepped between them, one hand up to block the duke from advancing toward Laura, and the other balled into a tight fist for her protection. “She isn’t a killer.”

  “You are too close to this to see things rationally,” the duke replied with a growl. “Your mind is clouded by lust.”

  Simon scowled. “My mind is clear. You know nothing about Laura. She is no murderess.”

  “Nicholas, please,” the duchess begged.

  The two men began arguing loudly. The duchess stood and pushed into the fray. Laura flinched at the melee, not sure how to calm the tension and worried that she was about to be thrown to the Bow Street Runners.

  It took the duchess, small as she
was, to settle the two men with a tone that was both firm and not much higher than a whisper. It was clearly meant to keep her husband and Simon from killing each other.

  “Enough.” With one hand on each chest, she gave a great shove, and they both stepped back. She glared at Simon but turned most of her anger on her husband. “Laura did not murder anyone. She does not have the darkness of a killer.” She expelled a harsh breath. “Now if you both will sit down, we can calmly discuss the matter.”

  Laura watched the anger slowly fade in both men, from a flame to a slow simmer, as they moved to reclaim their chairs. As the men glared at each other, Miss Eva sent her an apologetic glance. Laura was certain then that as long as she had the duchess on her side, she might get through this troubling encounter unscathed.

  Her Grace moved to pour the men each a large glass of some spirit, then took her seat. After a swallow or two, they appeared less inclined toward bloodshed.

  Clearly satisfied, the duchess spoke to Laura. “I think both children have turned back into rational men. Now, please tell us your story and how this ended with the death of Lord Westwick and your complicity in the crime.”

  For the next hour, Laura told the duke and duchess almost everything she’d told Simon, leaving out the more shameful information about her captivity. By the finish of her tale, the duke no longer seemed intent to have her arrested and appeared somewhat sympathetic of her plight. His relaxed posture confirmed her observation.

  Still, this didn’t mean he fully trusted her.

  “That is quite a story,” His Grace said thoughtfully.

  The duchess nodded. “Many of my courtesans have come from difficult situations and sometimes tell exaggerated tales to encourage sympathy from the other women.” She sighed. “I believe I can flush out lies when I hear them, and I do not believe Laura is lying.”

  Though Laura still wasn’t entirely convinced that His Grace accepted that she hadn’t killed Westwick, he appeared ready to give her the benefit of his wife’s wisdom.

 

‹ Prev