An Improper Proposal (The Distinguished Rogues Book 6)

by Heather Boyd

  “She is lovely,” Miranda murmured at his elbow.

  Martin squirmed. Lovely, but a thief? “Agreed.”

  “And I understand you’ve been calling on her daily.”

  “Not every day,” he corrected. He’d been on a fool’s errand in search of Alexander Hedley. The man was in the Marshalsea, a place he’d never considered he’d be. Why had she let society think he’d fled his debtors for so long? He risked a glance at Iris. Did she visit her father? Did they speak?

  “Of course she does,” he muttered out loud. She went out every day and he’d accepted her lies, little realizing how much she hid from him.

  Miranda grinned at him. “Look at you, barely able to take your eyes from her even in company. A lucky find indeed, my friend. By the way, my fellow wives are firmly of the opinion you should not let her get away. If you are not careful, you’ll find yourself leg shackled before the week is out.”

  “It’s not like that.” Martin wasn’t sure now what to think of Iris, but there was no way he could marry a felon. In a way, he could understand why she might have lied to him about her father. Embarrassment. Concern he’d turn away, as so many had done before. “How do you know a person well enough to be sure you’re not making a mistake?”

  “Trust that feeling in your heart. The voice that won’t let you sleep at night, wondering where they are and what they’re doing. I’ve never met a man, or woman for that matter, who wasn’t afraid of making a mistake until the last moment of giving up his freedom, and I’m sure you are no different.” Miranda sighed. “So it’s the altar and life starts anew.”

  “I don’t know if I can,” Martin warned, glancing around. “Now really isn’t a good time for this conversation. I need to think.”

  His friend laughed softly. “Just don’t take too long. I think she’s as uncertain of you as you are of her. It’s clear she likes you very much, and don’t deny you like her too.”

  He had liked her. He’d fallen in love with her dignity and honest desire of a better life. Only now, after speaking with Exeter, he wasn’t sure he had ever known her. While he’d been speaking to Miranda, Iris had stood and moved restlessly through the room, never settling in to converse with anyone for long. No one else but him seemed to notice where she went. She paused to glance out the east window, where rain was pattering against the glass, lost in her own thoughts.

  She was lovely but he didn’t know whether he could marry her if Exeter’s claims were fact. He’d thought the existence of his daughter might tarnish the family name. Marrying Iris would be an undoubtedly worse scandal if her double life was revealed.

  He moved toward her. “Is the view remarkable?”

  She spun about to face him and pressed her hands to her chest with a soft shriek. “You startled me.”

  He stared at the window and his heart stopped. The catch was open. It had been locked earlier in the evening. He’d seen that for himself. His mouth tasted of ashes as he realized Exeter’s claims were all too true. She was the thief in their midst. “I apologize.”

  She seemed confused by his short reply but then smiled. “I like your friends.”

  “I like them too. I would be very concerned if something or someone intended them harm.”

  Her cheeks drained of color and she glanced across the room toward the marquess. “So would I. They are kind people indeed.”

  She couldn’t mean that, given what she’d just done. She should not be mixed up in any of this. “You should return to Lady Heathcote. I believe she was about to leave.”

  “Yes, of course.” She dipped a curtsey, a frown creasing her brow. “Good evening, my lord. I hope to see you soon.”

  “Perhaps.” He didn’t want to talk to her tonight. He wanted her to go so he could sort out his conflicted feelings. He did not like being lied to and leaving out such an important revelation stung.

  She fled to Esme’s side and after a flurry of whispers, the pair eventually departed. That left him standing near the unlocked window that would ensure his closest friend was robbed.

  A hand clamped on his arm. “We need to talk,” Ettington hissed, and dragged him toward the nearest doorway and down the darkened hall.

  When the study door closed behind their back, the marquess swore. “Devil take it, do you want to get her killed?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Miss Hedley, you fool.” Ettington shook his fist. “If you’d locked that window after she’d finally worked up the courage to accomplish her goal, you could have put her life in peril. And her father’s.”

  The marquess raked his fingers through his hair and strode to the sideboard to pour himself a drink. “Damn frightful business, I don’t mind telling you. I’ve never been very good at keeping my wife in the dark.”

  “You’ll be robbed.”

  The marquess spread his arms. “And I need to be robbed tonight.”

  “What?” His heart sank. “Why?”

  “These robberies are getting out of hand. They’ve grown even more cocky and dangerous after every success. Tonight someone is going to steal some very good paste gems from my safe. Gems planted there to avert suspicion falling on Miss Hedley ahead of the real trap set for the next large ball. In the meantime, Miss Hedley must play her part without any interference, as much as we all dislike the situation. She is the inside spy, finding targets and ensuring access to the best homes, and all so her father’s throat won’t be slit. You almost spoiled our one chance to set everything in motion.”

  Martin sank into a chair in shock. “Who is we?”

  “Meriwether. Lady Heathcote. Miss Hedley confessed to them a few days ago after being attacked.” The marquess shook his head. “Despite the potential risk to herself and her father if they suspect her of duplicity, she wants it all to stop.”

  Martin stood. Dear God, what had he done? He’d sent her away without letting her explain herself. “I should go to her.”

  Ettington shoved him back in the chair roughly. “Sit down. You cannot do anything to stop this. And you certainly cannot help her without giving the game away.”

  “She has no idea of what she’s doing or saying.” Martin covered his face. He’d judged her and found her wanting just as everyone else had done since her father’s ruin. “She’ll be sent to prison,” he whispered.

  “Most likely. The woman has had ample time to consider the consequences of her actions but still she came forward. The attack on Hazelton scared her into hesitation at the next opportunity and she was threatened very badly.” The marquess pressed his lips together in a tight line, his expression filled with compassion. “I don’t know if she can escape judgment, but if not then let’s hope sensible heads prevail at sentencing.”

  “Thieves are transported. Dear God, I cannot lose her.” Martin closed his eyes as horror and guilt brought tears. He brushed them aside with the back of his hand. “I might never see her again.”

  Ettington’s hand settled on his shoulder. “She’s more concerned for her father than her own future, I’m told. He’s vulnerable and she knows he might not last long in the Marshalsea.”

  Martin stood. “Then that is what I can do. All I can do. I’ve been looking for him for some time to ask permission to marry her and now I know where he is.”

  “You cannot marry her. Not now.”

  “I have already promised to do so, and once Alexander Hedley is free and gives his consent, we will be wed by special license. Everyone expects us to marry anyway and if I don’t follow through, there will be too much speculation over why I did not.”

  “You’ll ruin your family name for no good reason.”

  “No, I won’t.” Martin smiled. “I’m doing this for the right reason. I love her.”

  Seventeen

  At the door to Lady Heathcote’s London townhouse, Iris almost broke down in tears. Her visit to her father that day had been horrible and had broken her heart. When she’d first spoken, he’d looked at her blankly and Iris had needed to remind him of her name.
He’d shrugged off the incident but upon her leaving, he’d looked at her so strangely again and only pressed a courtly kiss to her hand rather than his usual buss to her cheek.

  She rapped the knocker and almost fell inside as Higgins admitted her. “Miss Hedley, are you all right?”

  She nodded, keen to hide her distress from the servant. “Simply exhausted after my long walk.”

  Higgins knew where she went but they never spoke of her destination. Today he seemed troubled. “You should not go so far on foot next time.”

  She had no choice but to keep up the ruse. Esme’s butler was a kind man and she liked him very much, but she didn’t want to inconvenience the staff, and she could not change the method of her travel without being noticed by Talbot. Everything depended on her keeping up the charade just a bit longer. She removed her bonnet and handed it to him. “Is Lady Heathcote at home?”

  “She is,” he glanced around, “and somewhat impatient about your return.”

  “Oh.” Iris nodded. Had Esme taken Meriwether’s fears to heart and believed she would flee the consequences of her actions? “Then I should not keep her waiting.”

  “No, you really shouldn’t,” Esme said irritably at her back.

  Iris spun around. “Good morning, my lady.”

  “It is now.” Lady Heathcote glanced at the butler. “We will take tea in the parlor as soon as it’s convenient.”

  “Faster than that.” Higgins nodded and rushed off to do his mistress’s bidding. Esme embraced her and led her into the parlor one flight up. In this private domain where Esme always led her closest friends, Iris felt most secure.

  Once the door was closed, Esme caught her chin and stared into her eyes. “You don’t look very well today.”

  “I could not sleep a wink, worrying that someone would be hurt.” She drew in a deep breath. “Is there any word about last night in the papers?”

  “The robbery took place and the papers say the marquess is furious. Meriwether’s men followed the thieves but he would not say to where.” Esme led them to a cozy pair of chairs and pressed her down. “How is your father today?”

  Iris bowed her head as tears spilled down her cheeks. “Oh Esme, he didn’t recognize me when I got there. I had to remind him that I was his daughter.”

  Esme embraced her and rocked her back and forth.

  “It hurts so much to see him like this. What am I going to do? I feel as if I’m being pulled apart.”

  Esme stroked her back. “Your father loves you.”

  “He’s not himself anymore.” She sniffed back her tears and dabbed at her eyes. “He is so changed I don’t think he’ll ever be the man I remember. Even if he were free again, if I can escape imprisonment and Talbot, he couldn’t move about in society.”

  “Oh my dear girl. Now is not the time to worry about the future. There’s little we can do but wait. I suspected Alexander was headed for Bedlam a long time ago. Why do you think I’ve pressed you to make a match? Louth is a good man, sensible, and he will not judge you for your father’s odd behavior.”

  “And what of my own? There is no excuse for what I’ve done. I’ve lied to him from the beginning.”

  Esme kissed her brow. “You did nothing that a few honest words might not fix.”

  Iris burst into fresh tears and let Esme soothe her like a little girl. “I saw the disappointment in his eyes when he’d found proof of my involvement. Why else would he suggest we leave the party so abruptly?”

  “To make sure you were safely away before any trouble started?” Esme’s suggestion sounded so reasonable, but she couldn’t quite believe that was the excuse. She wished he had said something more last night. Left to her imagination, she had conjured up all forms of horrible ends to their relationship.

  A knock sounded on the door and Iris was grateful for the interruption because she was forced to think of something beside her own troubles. Higgins said nothing regarding her tear-stained face and quickly went away. The pouring of tea proved enough time for her to lose her depressed spirits and attempt a smile as she accepted her teacup.

  Esme bit her lip. “Have you settled on a date to become Lord Louth’s wife?”

  Iris’s cup rattled in her hand and she set it aside before she spilled the hot liquid. “No. He wanted my father’s permission first. Of course, I’ve not dared to disclose his location. He will hate that I have kept that a secret from him too.”

  “Everyone has secrets.” Esme blew lightly over her tea.

  “Not Louth. He is the most open and moral man I’ve ever met.”

  “Hmm, I wish that were true.” She set her cup down. “My dear, I have discovered a disagreeable situation that I must warn you of concerning Lord Louth. I—”

  Beneath them on the floor below, male voices rose in argument from the entrance hall. Iris frowned at the sound and when the parlor door burst open, Lord Windermere was framed in the doorway. “What the hell did you mean by that remark last night?”

  Iris shrank into her chair but Esme rose smoothly and approached the angry man without any apparent fear of his temper. “We should speak in private. Excuse us, Miss Hedley. This might take a little while.”

  Esme pulled Lord Windermere from the room by his arm. Although Esme pulled the door shut after her, it didn’t catch and slowly swung open again. A few moments later, Windermere’s voice bellowed through the house as clear as day. “You expect me to believe you, of all people?”

  What Esme might have replied was too low to be heard but Lord Windermere’s next words were painfully loud. “I don’t give a damn what you heard, you meddling bitch. How dare you interfere in my life?”

  A pause.

  “You’re wrong,” he bellowed again. “And I’ll prove it.”

  The front door slammed and the house grew silent. Iris jumped to her feet and peeked through the curtains in time to see Lord Windermere stride angrily away from the townhouse, riding crop swinging wildly beside his leg. Higgins chased after him, towing a fine horse missing its rider. She let the curtain fall when they were out of sight. Esme had a knack for discovering unpleasant things. It must have been quite the secret to make the earl behave in such a brutish manner.

  It was a while before Esme returned and Iris had time enough to pour another tea for herself while she waited.

  Her friend smiled weakly but her eyes were red-rimmed. “It’s for the best.”

  The words were lightly said but it wasn’t hard to see Esme was unsettled by her encounter with Lord Windermere. Iris caught her hand and squeezed. “I’m so sorry for his unpleasantness.”

  “It’s my own fault, but I just couldn’t stand to see him made a fool.”

  Curiosity got the better of her. “I couldn’t hear what you said to make him explode like that.”

  “I tried to be subtle with him and drop enough hints but he simply wouldn’t listen. Windermere was about to be duped into marrying a woman because she claimed to be with child. Only there was no child. He is understandably angry with me but he will discover I spoke the truth.” She sucked in a sharp breath and glanced around. “Now that that unpleasantness is in the past, I have a mind to take an outing with you. As much as it pains me, we must expose another secret today.”

  Iris gaped. She didn’t understand what the other secret could be, and when Esme stepped into the adjoining room to fetch her things, she was curious. She hurried to her room to change then followed the woman down the stairs. Esme’s carriage stood at the ready at the front of the townhouse by the time they stepped outside.

  There was also an obvious crowd staring at them from the footpath and at nearby windows, or more particularly at Esme. Had Lord Windermere’s outburst carried outside the house? She drew close to Esme to lend her support. The countess ignored the gawkers with a proud lift to her chin and entered her carriage. Iris, not quite so certain what was going on, or how to react, followed a bit more slowly and overheard a whisper that Esme must have turned down an offer of marriage to have so angered Winde
rmere.

  Iris closed the carriage door firmly on the whispers and faced Esme to see her reaction. The lady had closed her eyes and Iris reached for her hand and squeezed. That story would be circulating all through society by nightfall, and in such circumstances it was always the lady’s whose reputation was torn apart unfairly.

  Once the carriage had moved off, however, Esme burst out laughing and carried on for a good long while. Tears streamed down her cheeks by the end and Iris could only watch in astonishment.

  Esme pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and patted her damp face. “Oh, I needed that today. The imaginations of some people never fail to surprise me. As if we would ever want the other in our bed.”

  “So Lord Windermere didn’t propose to you?”

  “Oh please, not you too. I couldn’t bear it.” She held out her hand for silence. “That man will never be my lover, much less a husband. He’s much too sure of himself and much too certain about me.”

  Iris admired confident men, personally, but she supposed another woman might have a different view of them. A widow of Esme’s experience and temper might just have an entirely different set of standards she measured men against. “Esme, where are you taking me?”

  Her friend squeezed her hand. “As I’ve just discovered in Lord Windermere’s case, seeing is quite often a necessity to believing. It’s not far.”

  “You are being very cryptic again. I do not like that trait in you.”

  Esme patted her hand. “As time goes on, I’m sure I will confide in you more often but you must understand I do not like this situation one bit. Ah, here we are.”

  The coachman had stopped the carriage on Pollen Street in an area Iris was largely unfamiliar with. A groom hurried forward to drop the step and once on the street, Iris glanced around. As far as she could recall, Esme had no acquaintances nearby. It was actually only a few blocks away from Lord Louth’s townhouse. She could easily walk the distance in a few minutes.