by Amelia Grey
“You look like you need a drink,” John said, offering Andrew the glass he held in his hand.
He needed more than just a drink. A beautiful enchantress was trying to upset the contented balance he’d just achieved in his life. He feared it would be a battle of wills between the two of them.
“My finest brandy hasn’t begun to dull my senses tonight.”
“Maybe that’s just as well. Tell us what happened.”
Andrew gazed out over his garden. The greenery was lush from rain and dotted with splashes of color from the spring blossoms. The entire back area glowed from lamps that lit the limestone walkways.
He shook his head and laughed. “It is so unbelievable, my friends, that it’s downright laughable.”
“Speak, man. Tell us, what were you thinking to arrange an interlude with a young lady in your room?”
“And while you had one hundred guests in your house? It’s absurd,” John added.
“You’ve done some wild things, Andrew, we all have, but this goes beyond them all.”
Andrew looked from one friend to the other. He knew they thought him mad. “That’s the hell of it, fellows. I didn’t arrange to meet her. I had never even met her. I went up to my room and there she was.”
“Who?” John questioned.
“The lady’s name is Miss Olivia Banning.”
“You’ll have to point her out to us.”
“I’ve looked the house over,” Andrew answered. “She’s already left the party.”
“So who is this Miss Olivia Banning?” John asked.
“And what was she doing in your room if you didn’t invite her?”
Andrew hesitated. He hadn’t kept much from them in all the years they’d been friends, but he didn’t want to tell them how Miss Banning had looked shadowed by lamplight, standing by his dressing table, holding his shaving soap to her nose, eyes closed and inhaling the scent.
Even now the remembrance did strange things to his insides.
“I’m not sure. She was just standing near the looking glass.”
“Well, surely you asked her. What did she have to say for herself?”
Should he tell them what she said? That she was looking for a ghost and became curious once she entered his room? He was tempted, but no, that, too, he would keep to himself, for now anyway. He would stay with the story that she found his room by accident and she had something in her eye.
“Not much,” he lied without compunction. She’d had plenty to say and she wasn’t shy about it, but his friends would never know that, either. “I thought at first maybe she was going to steal something. I had some coins on the dressing table.”
“How did she get into your bedchamber? It wasn’t locked?”
“No. I—she said something about getting lost while going to the ladies’ retiring room. While I was trying to find out who she was and what she was doing there Aunt Claude, the young lady’s aunt, and the Lord Mayor’s wife saw the door to my room ajar and came to investigate. Before I could get everyone out, Lady Lynette came in asking questions.”
“Damnation,” Chandler whispered. “That many people saw her in your room? What a hell of a mess.”
Andrew took a deep breath and shook his head as he remembered the bickering of the three older ladies. God save him from a scene like that again.
“It was lunacy,” Andrew said.
“Bloody hell. It sounds like it,” John said.
A short unexpected laugh escaped past Andrew’s lips. “This party has been a disaster right from the beginning of the evening.”
“Yes, we heard about the urn falling from the landing at the top of the stairs before we arrived. How the hell did something like that happen?”
“I don’t know, but I’m beginning to think fate has decided to play a few cruel jokes on me.”
“So what happens with the young lady now?” Chandler asked.
“I’m going to call on Miss Banning and her aunt tomorrow afternoon and settle this. No doubt it will get out and the tittle-tattle sheets will chew on it for a few days, but with a little luck it will eventually die away as all scandals do.”
“Yes, but how will you settle it? Marriage could be demanded of you.”
Not in this lifetime.
“Don’t worry, my dear friends. I have a few ideas. After all these years of spurning the pushy mamas and irate fathers, not even giving in to marriage when a financial match would have been so easy and welcomed, I’m not about to be caught in parson’s mousetrap now.”
“For your sake, I hope it will be as easy for you to ditch the fortune seeker as you think.”
“I don’t foresee a problem. I can be very persuasive. Now, I’m going back to the party.”
“We’re here, if you need us,” Chandler said and clapped Andrew on the arm.
“I know that.”
It was strangely comforting to know that his friends, who had made it clear that they preferred their wives’ company to his, were still there for him when trouble came knocking.
Andrew turned and walked away.
Immediately his thoughts went deep. Perhaps all he had to do was mention to Miss Loudermilk that her niece said she was looking for a ghost. That wasn’t something intelligent young ladies did. Surely no one would expect him to marry a young lady whose mind wasn’t as it should be.
That was a shame, too. She was really very tempting.
He could always say he had to think of the title. Whenever he married it would have to be to a woman of sound mind. His sons would need to be strong and intelligent.
Suddenly his stomach twisted. He didn’t like using Miss Banning’s own words about her pursuit of a ghost to save himself from the gallows called matrimony, but in this instance he might have to.
If her stern-looking aunt didn’t already know about her queer searchings for members of the afterlife, she would by the end of tomorrow afternoon.
Five
“From ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggety beasties, and things that go bump in the night, Good Lord deliver us,” might be Lord Dugdale’s plea after a frightful incident in his home last night, where a family heirloom mysteriously fell from a ledge and nearly landed on his head. But even more intriguing than an unexplained mishap is the tittle-tattle that he was seen in his bedchamber with a young lady new to the ton. Is it possible we will see the banns posted for the last of the Terrible Threesome?
—Lord Truefitt, Society’s Daily Column
Olivia tossed her embroidery aside and jumped up from the settee where she’d been sitting for all of three minutes. She wasn’t in the mood to take her time with the tedious stitches on the intricate floral pattern. And reading had been impossible for her to concentrate on, too. She didn’t know if she had ever felt so restless.
Perhaps it was because she hadn’t slept well. Usually she had no trouble finding slumber, but it had eluded her last night.
She’d been up and dressed since dawn, impatiently waiting for her aunt to come belowstairs. When midday had passed and there was still no sign of Agatha, Olivia inquired about her. Their maid Susan replied that her aunt had said she would be down later.
It was fast approaching midafternoon and she still hadn’t appeared. A couple of hours before, Olivia had wanted to barge into her aunt’s chamber without permission and demand they talk, but after last night, Olivia was reluctant to enter anyone’s room without an invitation.
Olivia stood in the middle of the parlor and looked around the room. What else could she do but pace until her aunt chose to join her? Olivia had already lost all patience for trying to read, write poetry, or work with the needle. The constant drizzle of rain had made a walk in the gardens impossible. It wasn’t like her to be so twitchy, but then it wasn’t like her to let a complete stranger kiss her, either.
What strange phenomena had caused her
to behave in such a brazen manner?
She didn’t like the unsettled feeling inside her. Her hands dropped to her sides as she strolled around the room taking time to look closely at each object. She didn’t particularly want to dwell on the contents of the house, but she was struggling to find something to keep her mind off a certain rogue earl.
The house Agatha had leased for the spring and summer was small but elegantly decorated with exceptional furniture, fine rugs, and expensive paintings. The draperies were rich red velvet trimmed military style with gold fringe and brass rosettes. Even accessories like the candlesticks, lamps, and figurines had the look of excellent quality.
It was clear no expense had been spared with the furnishings or with the kitchen and flower gardens, which were tended every day by the servants who worked for the owners of the house. Olivia knew she and her aunt had only been allowed to lease the town house in the exclusive district of Mayfair because Agatha had known the owners for many years and they were quite fond of her.
Olivia stopped to stare at a painting that hung on the wall by a handsome chair upholstered in a fine Chinese silk. It portrayed a young lady and her beau standing in the middle of a crowded dance floor. The gentleman was bowing as he kissed her hand, but his eyes were looking up at her face. She was smiling back at him.
What surprised Olivia was that she’d been in this room every day for over a month and this was the first time she’d looked at the painting and saw the romance between the two people. The expression on the face of the gentleman spoke of the desire he had for the lovely maiden.
Had Lord Dugdale looked at her like that last night? Had she wanted him to? Had she offered him even a hint of a smile?
All night she’d remembered each touch of the earl’s fingertips on her skin. She’d felt the pressure of his lips on hers, the warmth of his arms and the whispered breath of each word he spoke.
Olivia and Agatha had left Lord Dugdale’s home immediately after they quit his chamber. Olivia had wanted to stay at the party. She didn’t like the feeling that she was running away or hiding from him or anyone else. But Agatha wouldn’t hear of remaining. She insisted that leaving was the proper thing to do.
In the carriage on the way home Olivia had expected to get a stern dressing down and to be questioned at length about being caught with Lord Dugdale in his room, but the only thing Agatha had been interested in was whether or not Olivia had seen or sensed any signs that Lord Pinkwater’s ghost might be present.
Clearly there were times her aunt wasn’t in her right mind, and that worried Olivia.
Agatha told her that everything with Lord Dugdale would be satisfactorily worked out later. She insisted that finding Lord Pinkwater would be the bigger challenge.
The gloomy day had given Olivia too much time on her hands to think about her intimate encounter with Lord Dugdale and his lingering kisses. She’d been kissed once by a young suitor—if their light touching of lips could be called kissing when compared to the way Lord Dugdale had manipulated his lips across hers.
Her stomach quickened deliciously just thinking about the way the earl had made her feel. But when that young man had given her her first kiss, she hadn’t felt struck by lightning as she had when the earl’s warm mouth covered hers.
She didn’t understand it but knew she couldn’t imagine not ever feeling that wonderful sensation again.
Suddenly Olivia’s breath caught in her throat.
Was it possible that’s why her mother had been so attracted to Olivia’s rogue father and why her aunt continued to pine after Lord Pinkwater? Had her mother and Agatha felt the same stirrings from those men as she had felt when Lord Dugdale kissed her?
She shook her head to clear away the silly notions and continued her stroll. So much for not wanting to think about the handsome earl. If sewing, reading, and studying lovely objects didn’t keep her mind off Lord Dugdale, what would?
She must find something to occupy her thoughts while she waited for her aunt.
“Good afternoon, Livy.”
Olivia spun and saw Agatha floating into the parlor looking like a streak of sunshine in a yellow-sprigged dress that flattered her aunt’s tall, slender figure.
“Auntie,” she said, almost breathless, “why have you taken so long coming down? I’ve been waiting all day to talk to you.”
Keeping a smile on her face and the sparkle in her eyes Agatha said, “What kind of morning greeting is that?”
“It’s not morning. It’s past two in the afternoon. I’ve been up for hours wanting to talk to you.”
Olivia could have added that she hadn’t slept more than a wink or two, but Agatha looked so cheerful that Olivia didn’t have the heart to say anything that might make her feel bad.
“Oh, my dear, I am sorry about that, but I was resting so well I simply lingered over my chocolate and toast and then I had other things to do.”
Concern crept inside Olivia. “You aren’t feeling ill again, are you?”
“Heaven’s angels, no. I’m in the pink. After I rose and dressed I had too many things to do before I could come down. I had invitations to respond to and I had several correspondences to write. Oh, Livy, I feel like I’m home again. I’ve missed London and I’m enjoying every moment of being here.”
Concern turned to confusion. Agatha’s behavior had been so irrational of late. Olivia wouldn’t have been surprised if her aunt had taken to her sick bed over the incident in Lord Dugdale’s chambers last night, but she didn’t seem the least upset about it.
That worried Olivia.
“I didn’t realize you had missed living in the city so much.”
Agatha laughed softly. “Neither did I, but I think I’m coming alive again for the first time in years. I’ve stepped right back into Society as if I’d just left yesterday. It’s a splendid feeling.”
A bit of hope sprang up in Olivia. If her aunt felt as if she were coming alive again maybe she’d stop searching for a man who died over thirty years ago. “You are looking wonderful, Auntie. I’m sorry to have kept you away so long from the life you loved.”
Agatha’s eyes widened then narrowed and softened just as suddenly.
She stepped closer to Olivia. “Never say such nonsense again, Livy. You didn’t take me away from anything. I left London because I wanted to take care of you. I was sad for you losing your mother but happy for myself that your father didn’t want you. I knew I would never have children of my own, so you were a welcome gift to me.”
Olivia’s love for her aunt grew. She smiled at Agatha and nodded. “Thank you, Auntie.”
“I have loved you as if you were my own daughter and I always will.”
Olivia’s heart melted. She hugged Agatha’s thin frame affectionately.
“I’ve never regretted a moment I spent in your father’s house, but I am pleased to be back in London Society with all its parties, its fame, and its secrets, but that said, I wouldn’t be happy if you weren’t here with me. The parties have been grand, don’t you think? And now there’s a little excitement going on, a little taste of scandal in the air. It’s just like the old days.”
Olivia was incredulous.
“But the scandal is about me, Auntie. How can you be excited about that?”
“Oh, Livy, scandal can be a good thing as long as it is dealt with properly in the end.” Agatha smiled triumphantly. “And I assure you this scandal will be.”
“How? I’m unsettled about last evening. And I can’t understand why you aren’t outraged that I wasn’t more careful in my chance meeting with Lord Dugdale.”
“There’s no reason to be. At my age, Livy, few things upset me and even less outrages me. The damage was done once you were seen with him in his room. The only thing left to do is handle it. And I shall.”
The way Olivia wanted it dealt with was to return to Kent, find a nice man like Mr. Y
ost to marry, and live a quiet life. She didn’t want to be plagued with remembrances of mint-scented soap, whispered words, and stirring kisses.
“But you know I was in there looking for Lord Pinkwater’s ghost.”
“It doesn’t matter if all Society knows. The reason behind the two of you being in there at the same time is not important. How it’s settled is. I received a correspondence from Lord Dugdale this morning. He was very prompt. He will be calling on us within minutes.”
Olivia’s stomach felt as if it rolled over. It was an odd feeling; she wanted to see him and she didn’t.
“Why are you forcing him to come over, Auntie? I really wish you wouldn’t.”
“What an odd thing to say. He’s a gentleman. He must.”
“But I would very much like to forget that I ever stepped foot in his bedchamber last night. In fact, I should be happy never to see him or the inside of his house again.”
“You will see him. I immediately sent a note back to him saying we would be expecting him. I have no doubt that everything will be worked out perfectly.”
“But what is there to work out? I want nothing to do with the earl.”
His kisses made her feel too many things she didn’t want to feel for a titled man with a rogue’s reputation.
“That’s not a solution. Let me take care of this, Livy. I have a bit more experience dealing with the rules of Society than you do. I knew I shouldn’t have let you search the house for Lord Pinkwater’s ghost. I blame myself for this and I have every intention of making things right for you.”
“Lady Lynette is such a nice lady, I don’t think she would breathe a word to anyone. Maybe you could persuade the Lord Mayor’s wife not to say anything about what she saw?”
“I’m afraid it’s too late for that. The afternoon edition of the Daily Reader was delivered to my room just before I came down. Lord Truefitt’s column has already published that a young lady was seen in Lord Dugdale’s bedchamber.”
“What? How did they get the story and print it so quickly?”
“Gossip has wings like a bird. It flies, my dear.”