by Lauren Smith
“I will submit it on the morrow with the messenger and let you know once I hear if we’ve been successful.”
“Excellent.” Perdita glanced around the shop, her eyes taking in the couples having tea. Gunter’s was one of the few places in London a lady could meet with a gentleman alone and not worry about scandal or ruination. The door opened with a small bell tinkling as a group of men came in from the cold. Perdita recognized one of them, and her heart pitched straight to her feet.
Samuel Milburn was here.
“Lysa, I’m so sorry, but I must leave immediately.” She nodded discreetly at Samuel, who was removing his hat and coat.
Lysa’s eyes settled on the man as she nodded. “Of course. Good luck.”
Perdita waved Hensley over.
“Miss?” Hensley asked, brushing crumbs from his trousers.
“I’d like to leave. Please have the coach brought around at once.”
Hensley pulled his coat on and ducked outside. Perdita carefully walked around the edge of the tea shop, weaving between the couples and tables, trying to keep out of Samuel’s sight. She pulled her hood up and reached the door just in time to overhear part of his conversation with the other gentlemen.
“You’ve still not proposed to the Darby chit yet?” one of the men asked.
Samuel chuckled. “Not officially. I’m waiting for Christmas. Women love that sort of romantic drivel. I also need to make sure she’s mine. I have to be able to have her before I make my decision. There’s enough fire in her that I believe she’d be a pleasure to break. Have to make sure though. She might be one of those weepy virginal debutantes. Can’t have that. I want her to fight me before I break her completely.”
His companions laughed, one comparing such “sport” with the hunting of a wild animal.
Milburn sneered. “Indeed, except one must be stuffed before it is mounted, while the other must be mounted in order to be stuffed.”
The grating sound of their harsh laughter made Perdita nearly toss up her accounts. She couldn’t bear to hear another word. She rushed out into the cold, not caring if the biting wind tore at her face. Samuel’s threats were unimaginable. How could the ton be so blinded by him not to see his evil? Yet she feared that was the sort of darkness lying in his soul. He was a man with no heart, and he cared for nothing except his own needs. She would not become his victim; she would do anything to escape such evil. Vaughn would be her salvation. She trusted him, something which should have been surprising, yet it did not feel so.
Evil and sorrow left very different shadows on a man’s face. Evil was a malignant presence that smothered and strangled the goodness around it. But it was different with sorrow. Vaughn’s eyes were painted in shadows of pain and loss. It was a shadow that might someday be vanquished by the rays of the sun. She had glimpsed the hope of it in his eyes when she’d kissed him last night, like sunlight streaking through the parted curtains of a mansion that had been shrouded in darkness for eons. It was foolish, she knew, to take pleasure in knowing their kiss might’ve lessened his sorrows, whatever they were, but she did.
Perdita looked around for Hensley and saw with some relief the coach was already approaching. She could not wait another minute this close to Samuel. He and his companions had confirmed her worst nightmares.
Thank heavens for Vaughn.
Hensley had their driver stop the coach, and he helped her inside. The velvet cushions were cold, but she sighed in relief when Hensley placed a foot warmer at her feet.
“Where to now, miss?” Hensley asked.
“Home, I suppose.” She parted the curtains on the opposite side of the square, but then she held up a hand. “Wait. Stay here. I should like to go to that shop. The one just there.”
She pointed at the little jewelry shop across the street. She could have sworn she’d seen Vaughn entering it. Had she been dreaming merely because she was thinking of him just now? There was only one way to find out.
Chapter 3
She climbed back out of the coach, heading directly for the row of shops. If it was Vaughn, she needed to tell him what she’d overheard in Gunter’s. He had a right to know Samuel’s intentions. He might have an idea of how to protect her against the man since Samuel had made it clear he wanted to get her alone.
Hensley closed the coach door behind her and followed her as she passed a milliner’s shop and reached the jeweler’s. She peered into the windows, which were frosted around the edges from the cold, but she couldn’t see Vaughn.
Perhaps he’d gone deeper into the shop. She tugged on the brass door handle. It creaked open, and she slipped inside. The little shop was warm, but a faint musty smell emanated from the shelves where a variety of necklaces hung on stands and both bracelets and rings were displayed in glass cases. It was clear from the designs that these jewelry items were old, not newly fashioned.
Perdita peered around the shop, searching for Vaughn. She paused behind a row of tall shelves, considering the possibility that she’d only seen a gentleman who bore a passing resemblance to him.
A voice came from the other side of the wall of jewels behind which Perdita stood. “My lord, what may I do for you?”
Perdita perked up at the sound and was prepared to seek out the jeweler, but something held her back. She stayed hidden and peered between the dusty shelves, fighting the need to sneeze with one hand. She glimpsed an elderly shopkeeper with a hooked nose and spectacles speaking with a tall man with dark-blond hair. The man stood with his back to her, but Perdita was positive it was Vaughn.
“What can I get for this?” Vaughn held out a pocket watch, a very old but beautiful piece. Its silver cover glinted with light as it swung from a fine chain. The jeweler took it and held it up, leaving Vaughn to shift slightly. His face turned away from the jeweler, offering Perdita a glimpse of his profile and the pain etched in his features.
“Well now, let me take a look.” The jeweler paused to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose and studied the watch closely.
“Finely made, with the Darlington family crest… Forty pounds, I should think. Are you quite sure you want to part with it, my lord?” The jeweler eyed the watch and then Vaughn. Perdita held her breath. Hensley shifted behind her, and she threw out a hand, catching his arm and raising her other hand to her lips to indicate silence. She did not want to interrupt whatever Vaughn was doing.
It appeared as though he was selling off his family heirlooms. Given the condition of his home—the lack of furnishings and general disrepair—it shouldn’t have surprised her. However, if she was being honest, she didn’t want to think of Vaughn as so destitute he was selling such a personal item. Her heart gave a painful twinge as she held her breath, listening.
“Forty? I suppose that’s a fair enough price. Is there a ring which I might trade it for?” Vaughn set the pocket watch on the counter between him and the jeweler. His fingers didn’t immediately let go of the watch. Perdita’s heart gave another painful jerk. He was looking at rings? Why would he wish to sell a watch for a ring?
Then a thought struck her. Was the ring for her?
The jeweler lifted a velvet box onto the counter. “These here are quite lovely.” Perdita stood on tiptoe to get a better view. She was thankful the shelves were open for her to peer through.
“This one here, is it a ruby?” Vaughn pointed at a ring. She couldn’t see which because his body was blocking her view.
“Yes, a fine ruby. I suppose we could make a fair trade for the watch,” the jeweler said.
“Good.” Vaughn nudged the watch toward him. “Do you have a box for it?”
“I do.” The jeweler disappeared into the back and moments later emerged with a small blue velvet box. He placed the ring inside and handed it back to Vaughn.
“Thank you.” Vaughn took the box and tucked it securely into his coat and lifted his hat off the counter.
“Good day, my lord,” the jeweler said as Vaughn turned toward the door—and Perdita. Perdita grasped Hensl
ey and propelled him around the opposite end of the shelf, just missing being seen by Vaughn as he left. Once she was sure Vaughn was no longer inside, she and Hensley moved around the shelf and approached the counter where Vaughn had stood. The jeweler was still putting the set of rings back beneath the glass display counter.
“Oh! Good day, miss” the jeweler said. “I didn’t realize you’d come in. How may I assist you?” He brushed his hands on his apron and readjusted his glasses with a warm smile.
Perdita noticed Vaughn’s watch still sitting on the counter and tried to act slightly interested. “This is a lovely watch. May I see it?” she asked.
The jeweler eyed her quizzically. “The old pocket watch?”
She nodded, chancing one glance at the door. There was no sign of Vaughn returning.
“Of course.” The jeweler set the watch down on the counter so Perdita could examine it. It was indeed an old watch, possibly Vaughn’s father’s or even his grandfather’s. How could he bear to part with it? For a ring, no less?
She hadn’t thought what it meant to provide evidence to support their story of an engagement. Had Vaughn believed he needed proof such as this? Or was it for a mistress? For some reason, she didn’t think so. If he was as destitute as she now believed, he could not afford a mistress. That left her with the sad knowledge that the ring must be for her, and he had sold his watch for it. She had to buy it back. He had sold the watch, one she suspected was dear to him, for a ring she believed he meant to give to her. Therefore, she would make sure he got his watch back when the time was right. Vaughn was a proud man, and she would not endanger his pride by letting him know she’d witnessed this moment.
“How much for it?”
“Pardon, miss?” The jeweler’s brows rose.
“How much to buy the watch? I’d like to buy it.” She didn’t want Vaughn to lose one of the last pieces of his family’s past if she could help it.
“Well…I believe fifty pounds is fair.”
She met his gaze. “But you traded it for forty.”
“Forty-five then,” the jeweler countered.
She lifted her chin. “Forty-two.”
The jeweler stuck out his chin as well. “Forty-three.”
“Agreed.” She lifted her reticule onto the counter and counted out the notes. She rarely carried large sums of money, but she had planned to do a bit of shopping today after meeting with Lysandra. She hadn’t expected it to be for her false fiancé.
She had the jeweler wrap it for her and then entrusted the box to Hensley.
“We’re going home now, miss?” His hesitant tone implied his hope at the thought.
“Not a lover of clandestine meetings or secret missions, Hensley?” she teased. The footman, a man close to her age, blushed to the roots of his hair.
“It isn’t that, miss… I just worry about you, is all.”
The footman’s honest comment caught her off guard.
“Worry about me?” she asked. He was unable to meet her eyes.
“I shouldn’t have said that, miss. My apologies.” He continued to avoid her gaze, and she didn’t force him to speak of it further. Mostly because she was afraid to hear what he would say. There was an infuriating pity that came from servants when they dealt with spinsters, as though even downstairs they felt sorry for the unmarried maids who aged on the shelf.
The thought made her sour. Women had a right to aspire to other positions than simply being a wife and mother, did they not? Yet those were the only positions society valued for them. It wasn’t her fault she didn’t wish to be seen as a broodmare. The idea filled her with a defiant purpose. Once she and Vaughn were done with this charade and Milburn had lost interest, she would devote herself to seeing her astronomy essays published.
“We have one more stop to make,” Perdita announced. “Have the driver take us to Half Moon Street.” Then she climbed into the coach and listened for Hensley to give orders to the driver.
She peered eagerly out of the coach window as they reached Lennox House. It was a stunningly built structure that emanated both power and beauty. Her warm breath clouded the glass. She rubbed her gloved hand on the window to remove some of the fog for a better look.
The coach came to a stop, and Perdita instructed Hensley to wait with the driver for her. Depending on how furious her friend Rosalind was at her request, it was possible Perdita would be cast back into the street. A small bout of nerves rose up in her, but she shoved them down. The two were friends, and although she had not had a chance to visit Rosalind since she’d married Lord Lennox and moved into his house, things shouldn’t have changed much, or so she hoped.
She rapped the large silver knocker and waited. The butler answered, and she was relieved to be allowed in once he had made the proper inquiries.
The butler directed her to a drawing room. Rosalind was working at a writing desk by the fire.
“Perdita.” Rosalind rose once she entered the room. “How are you?” Her voice lilted with a Scottish accent, one she no longer tried to hide as much as she used to. The accent rendered the dark-haired woman utterly charming with a touch of that Highland wildness.
“I am well, and you?”
“Very well.” Rosalind’s gray eyes twinkled. “Have you come to discuss your investments?”
“Yes, well, possibly. It is a matter of business, but it is also a bit delicate in nature.”
Her friend’s open smile turned to a frown. “Shall we sit?” Rosalind led her to a dark-red brocade settee and poured a cup of tea from a pot on the table.
“Thank you.” Perdita steeled herself for what she had to do. It was not like her to make such requests of friends.
Rosalind seemed to notice her hesitation. “We are friends, Perdita. Ask whatever you came to ask.”
“It is a rather long tale, but I shall try to be brief. I’m trying to escape an engagement to Samuel Milburn, whose intentions I do not trust. I do not wish to go into details, but I am under some rather unsavory pressure to accept. I made a bargain with Viscount Darlington to act as my fiancé in order to put Milburn off. But Darlington’s price in aiding me is…” She choked on the words, hating to have to speak this way to a friend. “Well, his fortunes have taken a poor turn, and he wishes me to ask for your husband to involve him in his next investment.” There. She’d said it, even though it left a bitter taste upon her tongue.
For a long moment, Rosalind didn’t speak, her brows furrowed as she studied Perdita carefully. Did she think Perdita was only trying to use her? Was she reconsidering their friendship?
“Darlington, you say?” Rosalind pursed her lips and thought. “I haven’t met him, but I’ve heard of him. Bit of a wild fellow. Are you sure you want to attach yourself to him so publicly?”
Perdita sipped her tea and nodded. “Despite what you may have heard of Samuel Milburn, I assure you that man is a brute. He has every intention of breaking me if he can compromise me into marriage.”
“Break you?”
“My spirit, and perhaps more.”
Rosalind’s pensive gaze turned into a scowl. “I haven’t heard much about this Milburn fellow, but if he has you frightened, we shan’t let him succeed in putting you in a position where you must marry him.” She lifted a small bell from her tea tray and rang it. A footman appeared, and Rosalind spoke. “Please tell my husband I wish to speak with him.”
The servant bowed and vanished.
“Is there really no way other than to enlist Lord Darlington’s help? I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors about him,” Rosalind said.
“I have, but I believe there may be more to him than the rumors give him credit for. When presented with a situation such as I have given him, he wished to help and asked only this favor in return. It’s not what I expected of a notorious rogue, but I trust him. Does that sound very strange and foolish?”
“To trust a rogue? That is neither strange nor foolish, if it’s the right rogue. I will ask my husband what he knows of Darlington.”<
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“Thank you, Rosalind. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate your help. It’s so upsetting to have to ask it of you.”
“Nonsense. This is precisely what friends are for.” Rosalind covered Perdita’s hand and gave it a gentle pat.
Lord Lennox appeared a moment later. He was a tall man with piercing blue eyes and blond hair, not unlike Vaughn, but there was a wild desperation to Vaughn that Lennox did not share. He was calm, relaxed, settled. Vaughn had a leaner appearance to him and a grimness to his bearing that gave him a melancholy darkness.
“You summoned me?” While Ashton’s tone was cool, his lips were curled in a teasing smile. He came over to Rosalind and pressed a kiss to her hand.
“This is my dear friend, Perdita Darby. She is also a customer of our bank,” Rosalind explained. “Perdy, please tell my husband what you told me.”
Perdita detailed what she had guessed of Samuel Milburn and his intentions, as well as her scheme with Darlington and the favor required as payment for his services.
“I’ve met him a few times around London. Not a bad fellow, or so I hear,” Lennox mused. “Milburn, on the other hand…well, I’ve heard about his mistress. The one who fell to her death. An accident, they say, but I’m not sure I believe that.”
Perdita nodded.
“So, Darlington is keen to invest with me?” Ashton leaned back in his chair thoughtfully. “He wouldn’t be the first, but there are good reasons why I am selective about whom I take into my confidence. Most believe the risks I take are too great, but they simply do not understand my longer plans and fail to see that in the end there is very little risk at all. But I require trust, and not all are willing to give it. I will not have my every action second-guessed. I believe he’d make a good partner. He has a good head on his shoulders, and I understand he was quite successful before his parents passed. The debts they left him with were extraordinary and ruined his own small fortune.”
Lennox shared a long glance with Rosalind before he stood and nodded.