Wedded in Scandal bf-1

by Jade Lee

  “Yes, my lord.”

  Robert just stared at the boy. The man wasn’t more than twenty-two years old. He hadn’t even fully grown into his adult stature yet. He was too lanky by half, too much arms and legs and ears. And he did have rather large ears. Yet here he was, talking to a future earl about balance and barring his mother and the like.

  “My God, that’s how you caught her,” he breathed, shock in every syllable.

  “My lord?”

  “That’s how you caught Gwen. You…you balanced her.”

  Edward’s mouth dropped a measure, and his face colored up to his ears. “I can’t say that I would ever manage your sister as such. That’s not at all—”

  “Of course it is!” Robert cried as he set down the brandy to lean forward onto his knees. “Tell me what you did. Gwen is lively, she likes to dance, and she—forgive me, Edward—she never would have noticed you in the usual way. You don’t dress well enough, you aren’t even in London for most of the Season, and she even told me you hate dancing.”

  Edward nodded his head. “Got no sense of timing. Been told that since I was a boy.”

  “Well, then, what in God’s name did you do to stop my sister in her tracks?”

  “Oh, she did walk right on past me, my lord. Time and time again.”

  “Come on, out with it, boy. How’d you stop her?”

  “I asked her to help me get a wallflower some dances. A particular friend of my sister’s, actually. Very shy gel.”

  Robert leaned back in his chair. “But isn’t that a gentleman’s job?”

  “Of course it is, and I had already danced with all the wallflowers. But as you said, I don’t come to town that often. I had no influence over the other men at the dances…”

  “But she did. My sister knows everyone and was courted by just about everyone.”

  The boy grinned. “She does and she was. Up until I spilled some lemonade on both ladies…” He paused, his ears once again coloring. “Begging your pardon, but that is exactly what I did. Splashed it everywhere, I fear, and then I…well, I convinced her to help out Debra. Find a man for the girl. But of course, she didn’t really know Debra or what kind of man she needed.”

  “But you did?”

  Edward shrugged. “She’s a friend of my sister’s from school. Came to stay with us one summer. Two years older than Connie but painfully shy.”

  He frowned, thinking back. “Was that the wedding of a Debra Smythe to Sir Henry Barnes? Good Lord, you arranged that? Gwen talked of nothing else for months!”

  Edward raised his hands in denial. “I did nothing of the sort! That was all Gwen’s doing. I just pointed out the girl.” When Robert obviously didn’t understand, Edward set down his own glass of brandy—untouched—and attempted to explain. “They’ve all got good hearts, you know. My mother and aunt, too. They just can’t see how someone would want to sit in one’s room for years on end.”

  He was talking about Robert’s mother. “I don’t understand it, either, but it’s what she says she wants.”

  Edward nodded. “And you and I respect that, but not them. They think that deep down she wants to go out, so they force her to whether she thinks she wants it or not.”

  And maybe it was all to the good. Maybe that was exactly what his mother needed. Robert resolved to visit her later today to see if she had improved or was worsened by the interference. “But that still doesn’t tell me how it got you engaged to Gwen.”

  “Gwen was bored, and Debra was terrified. All I needed to do was point out the imbalance to them both and they worked to solve it by themselves.”

  Robert remembered that Season, what little of it he paid attention to. Debra was Gwen’s project. Debra seemed to be ever so grateful for the help, and eventually true love blossomed for Miss Smythe. “But how does that win you Gwen?”

  “Well, once she was in balance, her good sense was restored. And there I was, being the humble progenitor of her success. So long as I didn’t interfere in whatever she was doing, she and I got along famously.”

  “Famously,” Robert echoed. “That’s not what I remember.” Actually the courtship had been rather tempestuous, but no one had expected anything less from Gwen. In fact, Robert had sometimes wondered if all of his mother’s spirit had been poured into Gwen at an early age.

  “Well,” Edward said as he ducked his head to take a sip of his brandy, “you asked how I got her attention. Not how I kept it.”

  But Robert already knew the answer to that. Edward was an extraordinarily levelheaded young man. And that was exactly what Gwen needed. “All you did was point out a problem.”

  “And step back out of the way. That’s most important.”

  “Yes, with Gwen that certainly would be.” And could that, perhaps, be the solution to not one but two of his own problems? After all, what he needed was an innovative business approach to satisfy the miners and still allow the mine to be profitable. Sadly, he was fresh out of ideas, as were all of his usual confidants. There was only one other person he could think of who had already demonstrated an ability to think of different solutions and had the boldness to see them through.

  Helaine, of course. After all, she was the one who’d made the unheard-of request for him to pay in advance of service. She was also the one to suggest that Gwen—an unwed girl—be allowed to make her own decisions regarding her funds. Could it be as simple as pointing Helaine at a problem and seeing if she had a solution? He had nothing to lose, especially as he had already exhausted all his other choices. Even if she had no new ideas, he would still count it a success if it got him deeper into her confidence.

  “Point them at a problem,” he said.

  “And then step out of the way,” said Edward.

  “Well, of course,” said Robert, not really listening. He was thinking instead of exactly what he would do once he got deep into Helaine’s confidence. Of all the things he could do to her. And that she would do to him. “I’m not really the interfering sort.”

  “Er, that’s not exactly how Gwen describes you.”

  “What?” Edward started to respond, but Robert waved him to silence. He didn’t really want to hear what Gwen thought of him. “Look, I won’t bar the door to your relations. To my mind, I’ve been spectacularly unable to help my mum, so if your mum can do what I can’t, then I shan’t interfere. But I do have one request.”

  “Name it.”

  “Have Gwen bring all the women here to get their dresses made. She can set up the dressmaker in one of the upstairs rooms. We’ve got women up to the rafters. Don’t see why we can’t have them all involved in the project. And if it gets my mum bathed and out of her bedroom, then all the better.”

  Edward frowned, obviously stunned. “You cannot wish to have all those women running around your home.”

  Robert grinned because he didn’t much care about all the women. Just one. One beautiful dressmaker who would sleep a staircase away. “Nonsense,” he said. “I’ll just hole up in here or at my club. Won’t make a bit of difference to me.”

  So it was done. Between that and asking for Helaine’s advice, she was sure to tumble into his arms inside a week.

  Chapter 10

  “I am offering my home to you, and you’re trying to blackmail me?” Helaine could hardly credit the cheek. And yet, looking at the pale, gaunt Penny, she knew only desperation had forced the girl to do this. Desperation and a child. But that didn’t make it acceptable. Or something that Helaine could simply forgive.

  “No, no!” Penny gasped, obviously horrified. “I just want you to listen! I just…I want a chance and no one will give it to me.”

  “Little wonder, if you’ve been trying to blackmail—”

  “Please!” Penny was visibly trembling. Enough that little Tommy looked up from inspecting a beetle to stare at his sister. A moment later he was crawling back. “Just listen. For a moment.”

  Helaine sighed. She remembered being this desperate once. She had a mother to feed, not a ba
be, but it amounted to the same thing. “What do you want?” she asked, her tone softening against her will.

  “I know how to make shoes,” she said. “I’ve been working with my father for years. His hands didn’t work so well sometimes, and I always did for him when he couldn’t.”

  Helaine frowned, wondering where this was going. “Then you should get an apprenticeship with one of the other shoemakers. I’m sure—”

  “I tried. They won’t talk to me. There are boys aplenty and no one thinks shoes made by a girl will be sturdy enough.”

  “But you’re skilled. Your father was an artist.”

  Penny nodded. “They say that was my father; no one wants me.” She blinked back the tears that Helaine knew were equal parts humiliation and desperation. But she had to be honest. Some of the work of being a cobbler was taxing. There was strength involved. Would she be inclined to buy a pair of boots if she knew they were made by a woman? Probably not. She’d be too afraid the shoes would fall apart. It didn’t make sense, but her own prejudice made her understand Penny’s problem.

  “What about ladies’ slippers?” Helaine asked. “Certainly you could do that.”

  “But the boys do it. The ones who don’t have the strength. I could have worked with my father for years and no one would know the difference. I was doing his work. But now…” Her voice trailed away on a sob. She didn’t have to finish because Helaine knew what she was saying. Now no one would hire her. Now she was a girl alone trying to support a baby.

  “But what can I do about it?”

  “You have a dress shop where ladies come to buy clothing.”

  Helaine nodded. “Yes, that’s what…” It took her less than a moment to understand. “You think to sell shoes there. To women.”

  “No one need know and even if they did find out eventually, I would be a woman selling to women. Dancing shoes and the like.” Penny picked up Tommy with more strength and animation than Helaine had seen from her all afternoon. “Think what you could sell when the slippers are made of the same material and color to match the dress.”

  “But ladies already do that.”

  “But they go to different shops, different people. You could promise them excellent shoes without ever leaving your store. They would not have to walk in bad weather. I could fit them right there.”

  “But then they would know you are a woman.”

  Penny shook her head. “I would merely be helping someone else. I would be taking the sizes for the shoemaker. We shall make up a name.” She lifted up the boy. “We will say it is Tommy’s father.”

  Helaine hesitated. “The shoes would have to be of the finest quality. It is my reputation at stake here. If the shoes fall apart, then no one will come back to my store.”

  “But they won’t. I swear it!” She stepped forward. “Please, Lady…Mrs. Mortimer. You know what it is like to be alone and starving. This is what I know how to do. And I am very good at it. I have all my father’s tools. Please, please, help me.”

  Helaine didn’t like the way the girl had gone about asking, and she certainly didn’t like the idea of bringing on yet another two mouths to feed. Yet she couldn’t deny the business possibility. If Penny really was as good as her father, then this was a boon she couldn’t pass up. But if the slippers fell apart or looked horrible, then it could damage her reputation at a critical time.

  “Penny, I will have to think about it. And I will need to see you make a pair of shoes. I must know if you can do the work.”

  “Of course, of course. And I swear I shall never tell anyone about your past. I swear it, Mrs. Mortimer. I just needed you to listen.”

  She needed a great deal more than a willing ear, but Helaine was apparently in a generous mood today. With a twist of her wrist, she indicated that it was time to keep walking. They didn’t speak the rest of the way to the shop. Helaine was too busy wondering at herself. She was not in a position to expand the shop. And yet here she was, taking in a girl and her baby without anything beyond a prayer.

  “I make no promises,” she said sternly as they made it to the shop. “I have a partner who must agree. And if your work is terrible—”

  “It isn’t.”

  Helaine continued as if she hadn’t heard. “—or if you are rude to the customers, then I can’t have you here. I won’t.”

  “I have waited on all manner of customers all my life.”

  Helaine knew it was true. It would simply be a matter of the craftsmanship. If Penny truly was as good as she said, then perhaps they could work out an arrangement. Perhaps.

  She was so busy thinking that she completely missed the man who stood by the doorway until she was almost right upon him. He was lounging there as if waiting just for her. And when his chocolate eyes danced with joy at seeing her—or at catching her unawares—she was hard-pressed to think of anything at all. Lord, was there anyone more of a ninny than her?

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Mortimer,” he said, his voice as smooth and rich as everything else about him.

  She swallowed and tried to gather her wits. “Good afternoon, Lord Redhill. I don’t believe I have anything for your sister right now, but if you could step aside a moment, I shall check.”

  He obliged her by stepping a good half inch aside. She glared at him because she knew he wanted to crowd her, to have his body close to hers. And as she undid the lock on the shop door, her entire right side tingled at his proximity. But that wasn’t what sent shivers down her spine. No, that came the moment she heard his voice all soothing and warm as he spoke to Tommy.

  “Well, hello, young man. I see you are most fortunate, held aloft in the company of two beautiful women.”

  Helaine pushed open the door and turned around just in time to see the boy grab hold of his lordship’s gloved finger and try to draw it to his mouth. He didn’t succeed, of course. The babe hadn’t the strength, but he did manage to play a game of tug back and forth with Lord Redhill, drawing the finger close only to have it slide down to chuck him under the chin. And all the while Helaine watched in horror as Lord Redhill’s expensive calfskin glove got covered in baby drool.

  She would have said something. Indeed, she shared a shocked look with Penny. But there was nothing to do, as Lord Redhill appeared completely enthralled by his play with the child.

  “He’s a handsome boy,” he said without pausing in his game.

  “Thank you, your lordship,” said Penny with a soft-spoken deference in her tone. “His name is Tommy. I’m afraid he’s cutting teeth and your glove—”

  “Teething, are you?” he said. “Well, that’s a painful process. What have you done to help him?”

  Helaine looked to Penny for an answer. She was too flabbergasted to say anything. Imagine a man asking about the care of a baby! Most men would have dismissed the child from their thoughts within seconds of registering the annoyance. Meanwhile it was left to Penny to answer.

  “I give him something hard to chew on. Bread if we have it. Papa used to let him chew on an old wood foot measure.”

  Lord Redhill’s eyes raised. “A foot measure?”

  “Miss Shoemaker and her brother are children of a rather famous, er, shoemaker, obviously. She’s come to visit my mother and me for a time.”

  “So I have interrupted an afternoon visit,” he said as he walked into the shop. He moved slowly because Tommy still had hold of his finger and Penny had to follow at an equal pace. Then they were all inside and Helaine could shut the door. “But perhaps I could beg a moment of your time, Mrs. Mortimer. I do have something I wish to discuss with you.”

  Helaine nodded. What else could she do? He was the brother of her most prestigious client, and truthfully, she was rather intrigued by his cheery mood. “Penny, if you would but follow me, I will show you upstairs. Your lordship, if you would disentangle yourself from Tommy?”

  Lord Redhill grinned as he looked down at the boy. “Well, old chum, it’s time for the women to whisk you away. Here, why not keep my gloves? They’r
e clean and tough enough. Chew on them all you like. Much better than an old wooden tool, don’t you think?” So saying, he stripped off his gloves and left them clutched in the boy’s hands.

  “Oh, your lordship!” gasped Penny. “They’re too fine for a baby to use!”

  “Nonsense. I have another pair, and Tommy likes them.”

  Helaine shook her head, both appalled and warmed by his generous act. Did he truly not understand the worth of his gloves? What man casually gave up fine leather gloves to a teething child? One who was too rich to understand their value or one who truly had a soft spot for children. Looking at Lord Redhill’s face, she knew the answer. He gazed at the boy with the same kind of wistful hunger she sometimes saw in her own mirror. He wanted a child, but despaired of ever having one.

  Which was a ridiculous thought. Of course he would have children. He would marry a high society wife and start begetting children. It was only herself who would likely never marry, never have children. She was the daughter of a disgraced earl. No man of her set would have her, and even the tradesmen kept their distance. They sensed her education and upbringing even if no one knew of it. Besides, she had set herself up as a mistress to Lord Metzger. No decent man would have her now.

  So rather than comment, she turned away and began climbing the stairs to the upper rooms. Her mother was there, dozing in a chair, but was soon roused, and her eyes gleamed with interest when she learned from Penny who waited below. Both ladies then shooed Helaine back downstairs, and she was all too willing to abandon them. But she didn’t burst in on him. Instead, she slowed to a stop just out of sight so that she could watch him.

  He was sitting on the settee, paging through one of her sketchbooks of dress designs. All in all, he was of a rather normal sort for an aristocratic male in his prime. As was typical, he was slightly taller than the general public, with strong hands, broad shoulders, and clothing to emphasize his power. His hair was dark brown and wavy, and his eyes were a soft chocolate brown that reminded her of her favorite morning drink, once upon a time. His skin was clear, his teeth well placed, and even his nose wasn’t too pronounced. In short, he was normal and nothing about him explained the fluttering in her stomach whenever she saw him.