Compromising the Marquess

by Wendy Soliman

  Leah glanced down at the worn cover of Erotopolis, The Present State of Betty-land. She knew, even before opening it, that it was her father’s most prized possession.

  “It was Papa’s,” she said, blinking back tears and then lifting her face to meet his gaze. “How can that be?”

  Hal seated himself beside her, took her hand in his and answered her question with one of his own. “Where did your father keep his rare books?”

  “In a strongbox that served several purposes. It kept the books safe from thieves, protected them from the elements and, here’s the irony, was supposed to also guard against fire.”

  “Morris told you he’d recovered them, I believe you said.”

  “Yes, but he said they were badly damaged by smoke. He had them restored as best he could and sold them for a fraction of their worth, giving the proceeds to me, less his expenses, of course.”

  “And yet these books were never exposed to fire,” Hal said softly.

  “Yes, I realise that.” She wrinkled her brow. “He deceived me. But how?”

  “That we have yet to ascertain.”

  But it looked to Leah as though he already had thoughts on the matter. “Tell me,” she said.

  “Morris was a blackmailer.” He told her a brief story about such exploits driving him out of London.

  “And yet he told me there were greater items of gossip to be gleaned from the prince’s court in Brighton because there was less formality, which was why he moved there.”

  “He still had you supply him with snippets from London.”

  “Yes, but not nearly as much as before, which greatly affected my circumstances. I thought he was doing it because he knew I needed the money.” She blinked back tears. “I’m starting to see that I was much too trusting.”

  “He kept throwing scraps your way because didn’t want you to think about those rare books he stole from your father?”

  “Yes, that must be it.” Leah shook her head, angry now at being so easily duped. For never having suspected Morris’s honesty. “He wasn’t normally given to generosity but I was desperate enough not to question his motives.”

  “And well he knew it,” Hal said through tightly compressed lips.

  “Do you think he blackmailed Papa into giving the books to him before he died?” Leah closed her eyes, desperately hoping it wasn’t the case but unable to think of any other reason for their being in Morris’s possession. “That would explain why he lied to me about their condition.”

  “Your father doesn’t strike me as the sort of person who would lay himself open to blackmail.”

  Leah shook her head. “No, nor me. He certainly held true to Mama. But what else—”

  “All in good time. Are you strong enough to stand?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  She took the hand he extended and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. The room remained in perfect focus, which she took to be a good sign. He steered her towards a chair in front of his desk, unlocked the door to the hall and rang the bell twice, apparently the signal for Cowling to attend him. When the secretary responded, Hal was sitting behind his desk, their respective situations entirely respectable.

  “My lord?”

  Hal indicated the two books on his desk. “We acquired these a year or two back. Can you recall from whence they came?”

  “It was closer to four years, my lord. They came from a reputable bookseller with premises in Bond Street. He is retained to notify me whenever items that might interest your lordship come into his possession.”

  “Do you recall the name of the seller?” Leah asked.

  “Dresden and Sons, miss.”

  Leah exchanged a glance with Hal. “I know them,” she said.

  “Do you have a receipt for that purchase, Cowling?”

  “In my office, my lord.”

  “Fetch it, if you please.”

  Leah and Hal waited for him in stultifying silence, each occupied with their own thoughts. Leah had never much liked Mr. Morris, but she had trusted him implicitly. It now appeared that her trust had been grievously misplaced.

  Cowling returned and placed the receipt on Hal’s desk.

  “Thank you, Cowling, that will be all.”

  The secretary bowed and left the room.

  “Let me see.” Leah jumped up and examined the receipt. “I can hardly believe it!” she cried. “Almost all of the books on this list correspond with those owned by my father. And, oh—”

  “What is it?” Hal, who was standing also and reading over her shoulder, appeared alarmed by the sudden change in her.

  “These prices, just look.” She was too outraged to do more than point at the amount paid for Erotopolis.

  “That’s less than it’s worth. Cowling did well.”

  “But I did not. That sum alone would have kept Beth and me in luxury for several years.” Leah picked up a paperweight, sorely tempted to hurl it across the room in an effort to relieve her anger and frustration. Apparently sensing it, Hal removed it from her hand and placed it out of her reach.

  “Before we decide what to do about this,” he said gently, “let’s first examine the rest of the books on this list and see if they also belonged to your father.”

  A short time later, Leah confirmed that they all had.

  “He had eight precious books and you now own six of them,” she said. “The two most valuable of all are not amongst them.”

  “If they were that valuable, Morris would have known it and probably sold them at auction.”

  “Yes, no doubt. He was awake on all suits when it came to the book trade.” She whirled about the room, too animated to remain still, her skirts whipping round her ankles and tangling with her feet. “Perhaps now you understand why I’m so reluctant to place my future in the hands of a man.”

  Hal’s own hand coming to rest on her shoulder stopped her in midpace. Muscled arms closed about her as he pulled her body against his own. She closed her eyes and rested her head on his broad shoulder, not averse to taking temporary comfort from his strength in spite of this latest example of male duplicity.

  “I understand you better than you imagine, little one,” he said softly. “Well enough to guess the nature of your thoughts at this moment.”

  “Then you will be aware that I feel so helpless,” she said, the incipient rage that coursed through her body reflected in her brittle tone. “I can’t prove my case against Morris, so there’s absolutely nothing I can do about him and he’ll get away with it.” She stamped her foot, narrowly avoiding his toes. “It’s infuriating.”

  “You might not be able to, but I can.” He placed a finger beneath her chin and tilted her head back until their gazes collided. “I have power and influence. Will you trust me to use them and right the situation on your behalf?”

  She blinked up at him. “How can you do that?”

  “I’ve no idea yet, but I have intelligence of his misdeeds on my side, which I shall somehow use to my advantage.” He lowered his gaze to her lips and his voice to a persuasive purr. “Morris is a blackmailer and a common criminal. He won’t get the better of me, on that you have my solemn word.”

  “Very well,” she said without hesitation. “I trust you, but you can’t have forgotten that you have concerns of a more immediate nature to occupy you.”

  “Morris will keep,” Hal said. Leah sensed power, strength and determination in the tightening of his jaw. He appeared as angry as she was, but controlled it better. “What he won’t do is escape.”

  “I do have one condition,” she said, feeling a lightness of heart at direct variance to her present circumstances.

  “Name it.”

  “Kiss me,” she whispered. “I need to feel reassured.”

  The words had barely left her lips before, with a wolfish smile, he bent his head, hair flopping across his brow, and did as she requested.

  * * *

  How Leah got through the rest of the day, she couldn’t later have said. When Fl
ick and Beth returned they found her industriously writing cards. They weren’t to know that she’d made up for lost time, and expended some of her anger, by writing at a breakneck speed.

  “You’ve done splendidly.” Flick nodded approvingly at the neat pile of written cards.

  “How did the deliveries go?” Leah asked, smiling at both ladies, pleased to see the bloom returned to her sister’s cheeks.

  “Everyone’s in alt. Lady Bentley is convinced that the ball is really being held in her daughter’s honour, your aunt is delirious with joy, simply because she’s been invited, and Mrs. Wilkinson thinks that Hal’s only doing this because she took his behaviour to task.”

  Leah laughed. “Nothing unusual in any of those reactions.”

  “Our aunt’s entire attitude towards us has undergone a marked alternation,” Beth said. “We now can’t do anything wrong in her eyes and she’s delighted that we’re helping Flick.”

  “I’m delighted.” And hopeful that we won’t now be evicted.

  “Are you all right, Leah?” Beth asked, frowning at her sister. “You look a little odd.”

  “I’m fine,” she said, leaning back in her chair and stretching her arms above her head. “Just stiff from having sat in one place for so long.”

  “You’ve done too much,” Beth scolded. “I knew that would be the case if we left you alone. You think to reduce my duties by increasing you own.”

  Leah smiled a secret smile but said nothing, her insides flooding with warmth as she recalled the precise nature of her recent activities.

  “We shall have tea,” Flick said, ringing the bell. “That will soon revive you. We were offered it everywhere we went but declined. Had we not, we would never have made all our calls, so we’re quite ready for a cup ourselves.”

  Tea was duly served and Leah made a herculean effort to contribute to the conversation, even though she was thoroughly preoccupied. Not, as ought to have been the case, with Mr. Morris’s shameful deeds but with deeds of a very different nature carried out by the master of this house with expertise, tenderness and exquisite attention to detail.

  * * *

  When the carriage was sent for the girls the following morning, they were told upon arrival at the Hall that Flick was in her chamber.

  “Lady Felicity asked that you join her there as soon as you arrived,” Potter informed them.

  “I wonder what she’s up to now,” Leah muttered as she and Beth climbed the stairs.

  They entered Flick’s pretty sitting room and found it buzzing with activity.

  “Oh, there you are, just in time,” Flick said gaily, waving to them. She stood on a stool, clad only in her chemise and stays. Three women, clearly a modiste and her two assistants, flocked round her, holding various fabrics against her skin. “I’m being fitted for my new ball gown. Isn’t it exciting? What do you think of this pale rose silk, Beth? Does it become me or do you think I’d be better with the blue?”

  Leah stood back whilst Flick and Beth, heads together, had lengthy discussions about a subject that engrossed them both. With the fabric finally decided upon, Flick clapped her hands.

  “Right, ladies, now it’s your turn.”

  Flick’s voice jolted Leah back to the present. “Thank you, but we cannot—”

  “My treat.”

  “You can’t buy us ball gowns!” Leah cried, shocked.

  “Of course I can,” Flick countered airily. “Were it not for you two, I seriously doubt whether we would be ready in time.”

  “Nonsense, you have an army of—”

  “You don’t understand. If there was a delay, Hal might very well change his mind and call the whole thing off.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “You do realise that I’ve tried every stratagem and ploy my inventive little mind could come up with over the years to get Hal to entertain here at the Hall. All to no avail.”

  “Does he dislike entertaining so very much?” Beth asked.

  Flick rolled her eyes. “You have no idea! He has a reputation for being the most unsociable creature on God’s earth. He gets away with it, of course, because he is who he is. However, apart from my come-out in town, when he really had no choice, he refuses to entertain and let me play the part of his hostess.”

  “By pleasing himself I’m sure he doesn’t mean to curtail your enjoyment,” Leah said, feeling the need to defend the marquess.

  “Well, I don’t know why he’s had a change of heart. I’m just glad that he has.” Flick frowned. “I’m sure he’s testing me, thinking I won’t be able to pull it together in time, but I fully intend to prove him wrong.” Her frown transmuted into an angelic smile. “You have done me such a service and so you must allow me to do this small thing for you in return.”

  Leah shook her head. Gowns made at short notice by one of Dover’s premier modistes would cost a small fortune. Even if Hal did somehow manage to recover the money that Morris had taken from her, she had more sense than to waste it on ball gowns. Besides, she knew the real reason why Hal was holding this ball and he definitely wouldn’t cancel.

  “Thank you, Flick, but we can’t—” Leah caught the longing look in Beth’s eye and hesitated. “Well, perhaps Beth would benefit from something new.” Who knew what eligible gentlemen might attend the ball? “My silver gown will do quite well for me. What I wear doesn’t signify.”

  “Oh no!” Flick folded her arms, looking as though she would be prepared to argue all day if necessary. “We’re wasting time here. I will have my way, Leah, so give in and let’s be done with it.”

  “Very well then!” Leah said, her words producing identical grins from Flick and Beth. “Thank you, Flick, but I insist upon repaying the cost as soon as I can.”

  “We’ll talk about that another time.” Flick clapped her hands. “Right, you first, Beth.”

  Beth’s gown was quickly agreed upon, requiring little or no input from Leah.

  “Your turn, Leah,” Flick said. “What do you have in mind for my friend, Mrs. Denton?”

  Mrs. Denton cast her eye over Leah’s figure with a professional eye and smiled. “With your height, and given that you’re not a raw young miss, I think we can do something a little different.” She snapped her fingers at one of her assistants. “The turquoise silk.”

  All three girls gasped as the shimmering sample was produced and held against Leah’s arm. It was a perfect foil for Leah’s hair, which prohibited her from wearing a lot of the brighter colours on offer. Mrs. Denton grabbed a sketch pad and drew an elegant portrait of a lady wearing a sleek column, the bodice respectably high, nothing especially remarkable about it.

  Then she drew a view of the back of the dress that produced gasps of approval from Flick and Beth.

  “This silk drapes beautifully,” Mrs. Denton explained. “We shall have it fall from your shoulders to your waist.”

  “Baring my entire back?” Leah initial reaction was to demur, even as part of her brain wondered how impressed Hal would be by it. “I’m not sure I ought to reveal quite so much flesh in the marquess’s ballroom.” However much she might wish to do so in private.

  “I think it will look fabulous,” Flick said. “I so wish that I was tall enough to carry it off.”

  “I agree,” Beth said, grinning at her sister. “Live dangerously, Leah.”

  “But it’s so daring, and I need to stay on our aunt’s good side, remember.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about that,” Beth said. “Our aunt is so excited about being invited that she probably won’t even notice what we wear.”

  Knowing when she was beaten, Leah nodded. “Very well,” she said. “Thank you, Flick.”

  “It’s I who should be thanking you.”

  As soon as she had a moment to herself, Leah went in search of Hal. They hadn’t seen him all morning but she knew he had to be behind this gesture with the gowns. Leah would admit it to no one, but now that she’d become accustomed to the idea, she was quite looking forward to her new apparel. Sh
owing the staid citizens of Denby that she wasn’t as dowdy as they probably thought would amuse her.

  Reaching Hal’s study, she knocked at the door, suddenly shy about the prospect of seeing him again. Excitement also churned within her as she waited for his response. She never knew what to expect when she saw him, which only added to his allure. His voice rang out, bidding her to enter. Taking a deep breath, she turned the handle and stepped inside.

  “Good morning,” she said, closing the door behind her and leaning against it. She took a moment to adjust to the sight of him, so handsome yet oddly forbidding, as he stood and offered her a smile.

  “Good morning, Leah.” He smiled as though genuinely pleased to see her.

  “What do you mean by insisting that we have new gowns?” she asked, not giving him the opportunity to charm her into forgetting her purpose. “I know it was you,” she added, cutting across the interruption she could sense him formulating.

  “Do you have ball gowns?”

  She hesitated. “No, but we don’t need them. We have respectable evening gowns and they will do perfectly well.”

  “I thought your sister was destined for a fine marriage.”

  “Hal,” she said firmly, “it was a kind thought but we don’t need your charity.”

  “It isn’t charity,” he said easily. “I fully intend for you to repay me when we recover your rightful funds from Morris.”

  “And if we don’t succeed with that objective?”

  “If we don’t you will make your name as an opera singer, the world will fall at your feet, and riches will flow.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, isn’t that the only other course open to you?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t tell you I was even considering going against my mother’s wishes.”

  “Perhaps I begin to understand you almost as well as you understand yourself.” He rubbed his chin and smiled as though he felt thoroughly pleased with himself. “Either way, I can wait to be repaid.”

  “You really are the most infuriating man,” she said, unable to prevent a small smile from escaping. “Has anyone ever told you that?”