by Lauren Smith
“Yes.”
A brave girl. “That’s all I needed to hear.” She contained a giggle of triumph. She had every intention of bringing Gillian and James together. The only question was how. She sat back on her bed and reached for her papers.
“You aren’t planning on interfering?” Gillian’s tone was accusatory, but also fearful.
She had long ago learned how to keep a straight face playing at cards. “Interfering? I simply needed to know where you stand so that I might best deal with this matter should it come up in the future. I understand your fears. Loath though I am to say it, an earl and a lady’s maid would be quite an impossible situation. But I do not wish to see hearts broken, either. So forewarned is forearmed, as they say. Rest assured, I will deal with the matter appropriately should it ever come up.” Audrey pretended to read the article as she considered how to bring together her two friends. A ball? House party? Secret rendezvous?
“Why do I not believe that?” Gillian muttered.
Audrey ignored her maid’s grim tone. “You look a bit peaky, dear. Why don’t you go down to the kitchens, have a little rest and some tea? I’ll be here working on the article, and I won’t need you for a while.” If she had Gillian resting, she might get her in a better mood, and that would give Audrey time to dream up a matchmaking scheme.
“Very well.” Gillian exited the chamber, leaving Audrey and Archimedes alone. The black cat sat on the window seat, licking one paw and rubbing it over his ear.
She addressed the cat. “What do you think? Should I ask my brother to throw a ball?” Archimedes stared at her. “No? Well, my sister is having a house party in a week. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind inviting James. Everyone simply adores him. So what do you think? A party would create forced intimacy. They would be pushed together in a country house until they simply couldn’t resist each other! It’s perfect, don’t you agree?”
Archimedes licked his nose and purred.
She could see it all now. It would work out marvelously. “That’s settled then. The house party in the country.” She took a leaf of fresh paper and wrote a note to her sister, explaining the situation. Horatia was the more sensible of the two, but like Audrey she was also a hopeless romantic. Horatia would be happy to help bring James and Gillian together. She finished her note and folded it up before she took it to her desk, then carefully sealed it with wax.
Once it cooled, she sat down at the vanity and rested her chin in her hands, thinking. Last night had been a disaster, and she felt duly chastened knowing that her hasty actions had caused Gillian harm. But all would soon be mended. Even though their lives had been in danger, one good thing had come from the incident—James and Gillian had spent more time together, which would only further her plans to see them married.
She noticed one of her gloves on the ground and picked it up, figuring Gillian must have missed it. She studied the ripped silk and sighed. A scent that carried from the glove made her pause and raise it to her nose. Jonathan’s scent, just a hint of it, still lingered on the expensive cloth. Memories from last night came flooding back, of them seated by the fire, of her asking him to teach her to fight. The bargain they’d struck and the fact that she’d spent the night untouched in his bed. Had she really done that? She could not imagine facing him again after doing such a silly thing.
Lord, that had been foolish, yet she did want to learn as much as she could. Avery had taught her about spycraft, Evangeline how to use her femininity to her greatest advantage, yet neither had taught her to defend herself. She needed Jonathan as a teacher. And as much as she didn’t wish to admit it, she wanted to spend more time with him. She knew she shouldn’t. Her heart was already broken, and if she spent more time around him it would only get worse. Yet she was going to because she craved some contact with him, however small it was.
I am determined to punish myself for my desires, aren’t I?
There was a soft knock on the door. Audrey wiped away the tear she suddenly realized was on her cheek and picked up Horatia’s letter.
“Come in.”
The door opened, and Sean Hartley stepped inside. The tall red-headed footman had a warm heart and a handsome smile. He was her most trusted confidant outside of Gillian, and one of the few who knew her identity as Lady Society. She handed him the letter.
“Sean, would you see this is delivered to my sister?”
“Of course, milady.” He tucked the letter into his waistcoat, then cleared his throat. “Also, you have a visitor at the door.”
“Oh?” She tensed. Was it Jonathan? She wasn’t ready to face him. Not yet. “Who is it?”
“The visitor is Lord Pembroke. Shall I tell him you are receiving visitors?”
“James? Oh, this is excellent timing. Yes. Please tell him I will see him in the drawing room.” Audrey paused. “Oh, never mind, I will come down with you. I simply can’t wait.” She put away her writing implements and left her room, barely able to contain her excitement. This was too perfect! She didn’t even need to invite him. He’d simply shown up! James was standing in the foyer, hat in hand, his face a mixture of eagerness and nerves.
Poor dear, he must be hoping I can help him find Gillian.
“James!” she greeted, hugging him. Her brother would have disapproved of such openness, but she thought of James as a brother. There was no risk of such an embrace being construed by James as romantic.
“Do come into the drawing room. I’ll send for tea.”
“Thank you. Tea would be wonderful.”
Once inside the drawing room, she motioned for him to sit while she poured from the tray Sean had brought in. She could feel James watching her, no doubt wondering about last night and how she’d ended up in such a dreadful situation.
James cleared his throat. “How are you after last night’s adventure? I’m afraid that in the chaos we could not avoid getting separated. I trust Mr. St. Laurent escorted you safely home?”
She handed him his tea and then seated herself. “Oh yes, we were fine.” He certainly escorted me home, just not to mine, she thought with a chuckle. She sipped her tea, noticing James had waited until she did to take a sip. How long would it take for him to ask about Gillian? He knew it would be highly improper, but he would sooner or later, she knew it.
“And Miss Beaumont? Did she return safely to you this morning?”
Audrey bit the inside of her lip to hide her smile. He was besotted; it was clear in his brown eyes. They were searching hers for any hint, any word about Gillian, anything to give him hope.
“I missed seeing her depart earlier,” he added.
She smiled. “Yes, she did. Thank you for taking such good care of her, James. Gillian is quite dear to me, you understand. One of my closest friends.”
“Is she?” He scooted forward, eager for any details she would share. Audrey ignored the twinge of guilt she felt, but if she was to help them get together, some small deceptions would be required.
“Yes, we’ve known each other for three years. Since we were sixteen. I trust her with all my secrets. All of them.” She hoped he understood her meaning. As Lady Society, she was a target now for men like Gerald Langley.
James placed his cup on the lacquered table. “She knows of your…occupation?”
She nodded. “And I hope you will keep that knowledge hidden as well, my lord.”
His brown eyes turned serious. “No one shall hear it from me, but I fear your secret is no longer safe. After last night, it is quite clear that men like Gerald Langley will be out for revenge. You must take care. Both of you. Langley has seen Miss Beaumont’s face, and I fear some harm could come to her.” He picked up his cup and took a sip. “Is there any way I might see her again?”
Audrey pretended to study him critically, as though debating her answer.
“That depends. What are your intentions, James?” She waited, watching to see if he would be able to ask her what he should or if she would have to take pity on him and suggest it herself. “As Lady So
ciety, I don’t only challenge the conventions of the ton with my exposé articles; I do other things as well.”
His eyes lit up with hope. “Yes, I hear you are a matchmaker. And I’m here, begging you to help me win over Gillian, Miss Beaumont, that is.” He sounded somewhat desperate, but she understood. When you cared about a person and wanted to be with them, it filled you with that desperation.
She put her cup of tea down and folded her hands in her lap as she leaned toward him, keeping her voice low. “I must ask you a question. Honesty matters, so it would be wise for you to give me only the truth.”
James mirrored her by leaning in. “Of course.”
“Do you love her?”
“Love?” He paused, his gaze contemplative. “I haven’t known her long enough to be certain of love, but I know that from the moment I met her something seemed to fit when I am with her. Like pieces of a puzzle sliding into place or the way the sea and the shore come together. I feel tied to her in a way that defies a more rational explanation. She is intelligent, compassionate, and brave. Everything I would want from a partner in my life.”
“And beautiful?” He had left out the thing most men focused on first and foremost when choosing a wife or mistress. She fought off a grin as she teased him.
James continued to look at her seriously. “Of course. But beauty is not merely that of one’s face and form. It extends far deeper, into the mind and soul. That beauty grows with time rather than fades.”
His words filled her heart with warmth. James was even better than she had hoped. He truly was perfect for Gillian. She leaned back in her chair. It was time to test him further. “After such a brief encounter, you can hardly know her well. What if your assumptions about her were misplaced?”
Confusion clouded his face. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“If you chose to be with her and it caused your life to crumble down around you, what then? Would you regret it? Would you abandon her, wish you had never met her?” She held her breath, waiting to see if he would prove he was the man she thought he was.
He and I are so alike. We fight for our love, fight until we are certain of victory or defeat. I lost my war, but James still has a chance to win his. I won’t let him give up.
He lowered his head, staring into this teacup before he replied. “What about Gillian’s life?”
“Pardon?”
“Well, you say being with her might crumble my life down around me, but would it similarly damage hers? If so, then I would have no choice but to spare us both that pain. But if you are talking about my life alone…well, I believe there are certain people in this life who are worth the heartache and difficult times. For me, Gillian is that woman. I truly believe she is worth anything.”
She smiled at his response. “I must warn you. Gillian’s life has not been easy, and she has secrets of her own. Secrets she believes will hurt any man she loved if they were ever discovered. Are you brave enough to face her when she tells you the truth?”
James frowned. “Is she in love with someone else? Is there another man with whom—”
“No, of course not!”
James’s shoulders dropped in open relief. “Then yes, I can brave the truth so long as I have a fighting chance to win her.”
“Good.” She clapped her hands together. “Then here’s what you must do. You will receive an invitation from my sister to attend a house party one week from now. You will accept. Gillian will be there. You will have your chance to win her then.”
“A week.” He mouthed the words, still frowning.
“You can be patient, can’t you, my lord?”
“Of course.” His soft sigh was oddly reassuring. He sounded as though he’d waited for her a very long time, and waiting a little longer was a survivable hardship.
“We shall see you in a week.” She rose from her chair, and he followed suit.
Audrey walked him back to the foyer, and Sean handed him his hat. He paused in the doorway, afternoon sunlight illuminating him like Gillian’s very own guardian angel. It filled Audrey with joy for her friend’s future happiness as well as envy, because she would never have a man who cared about her like James did Gillian.
But at least I can give her a happy life.
“Miss Sheridan, if you do see her, will you tell her—” His face turned red with his bashfulness. “Tell her that I’m thinking of her.”
“I shall,” Audrey promised. She watched him descend the steps and summon a coach. She would do everything in her power to use the house party to bring them closer together. Love would grow there, she was sure of it.
When she turned back around, she saw Gillian standing just outside the servants’ entrance.
“My lady?” The two words held a mountain of questions.
“Lord Pembroke came to see you.” She folded her hands in front of her and banished thoughts of Jonathan and her own melancholy from her mind. “He wanted to be sure you were all right. I let him know you were. Now, I’ve forgotten we’ve been invited to Lucien’s estate in a week and must begin packing.” She motioned for Gillian to come with her back to her chambers. “I want to bring my best gowns. And you will be accompanying me—not as a lady’s maid but as a lady.”
Gillian stared at her in horror. “I am?”
Audrey laughed. “Yes. We must work on our spy efforts. You especially must improve your ability to disguise yourself. If you look down or act deferential when you shouldn’t, you could get us both killed.”
“But—”
“No arguing. Let’s make a list of what we need to pack.” She had to do her best to keep both Gillian and herself distracted. There was every chance that Jonathan would not keep his promise to teach her to fight. And that was not something she wished to think about.
6
“I’ve never seen you like this.”
Jonathan turned toward Godric, not sure what he meant. Whenever he looked into his older brother’s face, it was like looking into a mirror except for his hair, which was far lighter than that of his older sibling. They even shared the same green eyes. How had neither of them realized they were brothers for nearly twenty-five years? The answer was painfully simple, he supposed. Godric was the Duke of Essex. Why on earth would Jonathan have even considered the possibility he was related to a duke? Or any noble house, for that matter?
“Like what?” he said at last.
“In such a fit of the blue devils.”
Jonathan stared at the gardens through the wide window of the drawing room. “I don’t wish to discuss it.” He’d gotten used to talking to Godric about almost everything, but admitting to his failures? That was not something any man wanted to talk about.
“It’s Audrey, isn’t it? Lucien mentioned last night that you were undecided about her.”
“I’m not undecided. That’s the problem.” He sighed heavily. If Godric wasn’t going to let it drop, he might as well admit the truth. “I want her for a wife, but she thinks I’m cold and arrogant and told me in no uncertain terms she doesn’t ever want to marry.”
His brother’s bark of laughter grated on his ears. What was so amusing about his misfortune?
“Not want to marry? Surely you jest. The little chit has talked of nothing else since she turned sixteen.” He started to speak in a high-pitched voice. “‘Oh, Cedric, be sure not to scare off my beaus. I so want to be married!’ Not that he ever listened, mind you.”
Jonathan smiled begrudgingly. He remembered all too well the beautiful young woman who’d set her cap for him last year. “Well, she’s changed.”
“I doubt that.” Godric chortled and joined his brother at the window. “That woman has had eyes for you since the moment she met you. That sort of desire doesn’t change, not so fast as you might think. She must have a bee in her bonnet. Lord knows what, but don’t let that chase you off. She wants you, you want her. Remind her of that.”
Jonathan hadn’t forgotten how he’d spent a restless night in bed with her, holding h
er in his arms. It had been too perfect, a sign from above that she would fit perfectly in his bed and in his life. But he’d been unable to touch her or try to coax the passions that he hoped lay within her. He’d made a vow, after all. Having her leave that morning had been both a relief and a disappointment. Had he returned to bed and she was still there, he wasn’t sure he could have kept his word. She was too great a temptation. But he’d found her note, reminding him that they would start their lessons soon.
Had he really thought it a good idea to teach her to fight? He could hurt her if he wasn’t careful, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.
I’ve made a bloody mess of all of this. Teaching a woman to defend herself isn’t romantic. It won’t help woo her. I should have thought of something more clever.
“Jon, all is not lost. You can still win her.”
Jonathan was afraid to explain to his brother his true fear, that he wasn’t good enough for Audrey. That even if they shared a passion together, his humble beginnings would always loom over his head. He’d been at more than one ball where men and women had snickered that he’d gone from polishing fine boots to wearing them, without knowing he could hear them. He didn’t want Audrey to be the laughingstock of London because of his past. Even if he was the legitimate son of a duke, it didn’t mean that society saw him that way.
Godric placed a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder. “You cannot give up. Take my advice as a man who once refused to trust in love. I almost lost Emily because of it. If you cannot do without Audrey, then you have to fight to the ends of the earth for her, even if it means fighting the doubts within your own heart.”
Jonathan’s throat tightened. He opened his mouth to speak, but his butler stepped into the drawing room.
“Beg your pardon, sir, but Lord Pembroke wishes to see you.”
Jonathan cleared his throat. “Show him in.”