Scandal in Spades

by Wendy Lacapra

  “Sentiments often feel strong, but the strength of a sentiment does not necessarily indicate the sentiment is shared…or real.”

  “Real,” Julia spat. She held up a shaking hand. “Of course, my feelings are real. I am trembling all over.”

  Katherine plucked Julia’s hand from the air and held her sister’s fingers to her cheek. “I know, darling.”

  How well she knew. She’d stood in front of Septimus, certain there was nothing more important than the consummation of their love, and absolutely positive that if they came together, he would see, and return, the depth of her love.

  She’d been wrong. So, so wrong.

  Julia’s expression softened, then she went limp, slumping against Katherine’s ribs. Katherine held her tight, placing a kiss on her forehead and rubbing her arm.

  “Are you sure what I feel for Lord Rayne isn’t real?” Julia asked.

  “The first time you fall is always the strongest.”

  “The first?” Julia went rigid. “Are you saying this could happen again? With someone else?”

  Katherine nodded. “Unfortunately, yes.”

  Julia’s expression turned skeptical. “It doesn’t feel like mere fascination.”

  “I know,” Katherine repeated. “Lord Rayne is a handsome, wealthy male, well aware of his advantages.”

  Julia’s brow creased. “Do you mean to say other ladies admire Rayne the same way I admire Rayne?”

  “Lord Rayne.”

  Julia ignored the correction. “Do their hearts feel this heavy, too?”

  “Doubtless,” Katherine replied.

  “And,” Julia chewed on her bottom lip, “my inexperience makes me no temptation for such a man.”

  “Oh, love,” Katherine answered before thinking, “if you hadn’t tempted him, he would not have left.”

  Light slowly dawned in Julia’s eyes.

  Uh oh. “Careful, Julia. There is no hope. Rayne is not for you. He is too high on the instep. A family like ours is beneath him. He told Lord Bromton as much.”

  “You don’t know Rayne.”

  “No,” Katherine replied. “But I do know that you deserve someone who does not feel they are superior. Wait for a man you can love.” If only she’d waited for Giles.

  Julia lifted Katherine’s hand and turned the rubies around Katherine’s finger. “I would like to have a man who’d give me something as pretty.”

  “You will,” Katherine assured.

  “Until then,” Julia’s tears dried, “I will hold my head high.” Julia demonstrated an exaggerated high-head holding.

  Katherine smiled. “There’s the sister I know.”

  Julia arranged her skirts. “Rayne,” she said with dark sweetness, “is going to be very, very sorry.”

  “Julia—”

  “Oh, heavens. I’m not going to pursue him. I’m merely going to make certain he regrets not pursuing me.”

  Well. Katherine sighed inwardly. At least Julia is talking again.

  There was no telling what kind of plan Julia would concoct. And whatever plan she chose, the performance was unlikely to include mobcaps. Julia was far more Titus Andronicus than Taming of the Shrew.

  Thank heavens she was no longer alone. Thank heavens she and Markham had Giles on which to rely.

  Chapter Twelve

  Katherine cast another surreptitious glance toward the pianoforte. Julia’s color had returned, and her playing had become tolerable. Maybe, just maybe, Julia had truly put Rayne out of her mind.

  And maybe pigs would fly.

  Julia merely concealed her feelings about Rayne. Katherine had no doubt that whatever plan she’d concocted for Rayne would be painstakingly executed to extract pain equal to Julia’s humiliation.

  Markham leaned over Julia’s shoulder and turned the music sheet. Giles, just to Julia’s other side, murmured words Katherine could not hear, but his tone was all appreciation.

  Lord Farring nudged his chair toward Katherine’s. “If you don’t stop clucking around Lady Julia like a nervous mother hen, she’s going to retaliate.”

  Katherine smiled, chagrined. “I’d feign insult at your presumption, Lord Farring, but that would be ungenerous after the effort you’ve expended on Julia’s behalf today.”

  “Me?” Farring sat back in his chair and pushed his glasses up his nose. “All I did was suggest a ride. I’m of the mind there is little a good, country gallop cannot aid. I’ve six sisters, you know. Distraction works like a charm, every time.”

  “Six sisters!” Katherine exclaimed.

  “The duke and duchess have,” Farring cleared his throat, “a very fruitful union. My father sets an appalling example of chivalry and attentive concern. How’s a son to live up to such a man, I ask you?”

  Katherine’s lips twitched. “Six sisters, you say? I remember only two.”

  “Yes,” Farring rubbed his lip. “You were likely introduced to my eldest sister, Lady Theodora.” He hesitated. “I am sorry to say, she left us too soon.”

  “Oh, I am so sorry.” Katherine lowered her voice to a sympathetic murmur. “I didn’t know.”

  She could not decipher his sideways glance. “She is in a much better place,” he said.

  “I say the same to myself,” Katherine touched his arm, “when I think of my parents.”

  Katherine and Farring shared a momentary, companionable silence as Julia’s melancholy notes drifted through the room.

  “Do tell me more about your family, would you, Lord Farring?”

  “If you insist,” Farring replied with a lopsided grin. “My twin, Lady Darlington—Lady Philippa at the time—would have been out. She is tall, like me. And, like me, she is as blind as a bat without her glasses. Dashing as they come, however.”

  “Oh yes,” Katherine brightened, “I remember Lady Philippa!”

  “She is,” he chuckled, “difficult to forget.”

  “I remember her as kind,” Katherine countered.

  “Kind.” Farring snorted. “If she was kind to you, she likely thought she could rope you into one of her nefarious schemes.”

  Katherine demurred. She hadn’t spent long enough in London to have made any true friends. “Lady Philippa—Lady Darlington, I mean—is married, then?”

  “Yes, and happily, I believe.” Farring slanted her a smile. “Her husband carries quite a bit of political sway, and, somehow,” Farring winked, “all the best scandals originate at her soirees.”

  Odd to hear someone talk so jovially about scandals. Although, the son of a duke could survive more than most, she supposed.

  “Would you like to know about the rest?” Farring asked.

  “Certainly.” Anything to keep her mind off Julia.

  “Lady Margaretta and Lady Florentina came out two years past; they are a mere eleven months apart, you see. And Lady Horatia will make her curtsy next year; she and Lady Julia are of similar age.” His gaze moved to Julia. “In fact, I am sure they would be fast friends.”

  Katherine blinked with surprise. “Would you introduce them?”

  Farring pressed his hand to his chest. “Of course! My mother wouldn’t have it any other way! Imagine, the daughter of the Duke of Shepthorpe, shunning the sister of the new Marchioness of Bromton.” He shook his head. “’Twould not be allowed, I tell you!”

  Katherine chuckled, though she could not conceive of wielding such power. All she knew for certain was that Farring was making a valiant attempt to distract her from her worry. She liked him all the better for his efforts.

  “I look forward to meeting Lady Horatia,” she said. “But, if I am not mistaken, that makes only five.”

  “So, it does.” Farring smiled fondly. “The last is still in leading strings and showing all the promise, beauty, wit, and wisdom,” he grinned with characteristic self-depreciation, “befitting the daughter of a duke.”

  “What is the little one’s name?”

  “She prefers Ana. And she is much more an Ana than a Lady Uriana, if you ask me.” He
leaned in. “Just don’t allow the duchess to hear you say so.”

  “Uriana, Horatia, Florentina, Margaretta….” Katherine laughed aloud. “One wonders at your given name, Lord Farring.”

  “Alas,” Farring said with mock sadness, “the duchess failed to provide me with an illustrious name. Why should she, when it would remain forever hidden beneath a title?” He inclined his head. “Charles, Lord Farring, at your service.”

  “Ah, but Charles is the name of kings!”

  “Yes,” he sighed, “but next to my sisters, it does lack a certain flair, does it not?”

  Katherine’s lips quirked. “One might say you make up for it in charm.”

  “You may pay me all the compliments you wish,” Farring flashed a glance toward Giles. “But do keep your voice to a whisper. I’ve a mind to keep my ears from being boxed.”

  “Julia,” Katherine called, “did you know Lord Farring has five younger sisters?”

  Julia stopped playing. “And I thought Markham particularly unlucky.”

  “Ah,” Farring replied, “but the responsibility for you lovely ladies falls solely on his shoulders.” Farring waved his hand. “I leave my sisters to the domain of the duke and duchess. And for their part, my sisters would fall into weeping despair if they thought they need depend on me.”

  “You underestimate your value, my friend,” Giles said. “They dote on you, one and all.”

  Markham tapped Julia’s shoulder. “Speaking of tiresome sisters, you’ve two more pages to go, and my legs are starting to ache.”

  Julia glared at Markham and then resumed playing. Largo, of course.

  “You do underestimate your value,” Katherine said.

  “Do you think so?” Farring asked.

  Katherine closed one eye. “I do. You’ve been skillfully placating Julia, keeping up Gi—Lord Bromton’s spirits, distracting me from my worries, and, all the while you’ve been maintaining the fiction—for Markham’s sake—that Rayne left of his own accord.”

  “Ah.” Farring’s expression softened. “So you know Brom intervened.”

  “I should hope we have no secrets,” Katherine replied. “We are to wed in the morning, after all.”

  Farring’s gaze drifted toward Markham. “I understand Brom a little better, now.”

  “Pardon?” Katherine asked.

  “He was singularly determined to establish a friendship with Markham. Odd of him to take in a stray, if you’ll pardon.”

  Katherine lifted her brows. “Do continue.”

  “Now that I know all of you better, his actions make more sense. Substance, my father says. You Stanleys are people of substance.” Farring looked back to Giles. “And, perhaps, something of a kinship develops naturally between peers who have lost a parent just as they reached manhood, as happened with Giles, Rayne, and Markham.”

  Katherine’s gaze moved between Farring and Giles. “I did not know Giles shared such an experience.” Shouldn’t she have known something so significant?

  “The loss of the marquess was quite a shock. We all thought the old man was mean enough to last forever.”

  Mean? Something else she had not known. In fact, Giles had never mentioned his father, had he?

  “I’ve upset you,” Farring said. “I apologize.”

  She met his perceptive gaze. “Do you always make a study of people, Lord Farring?”

  Again, Farring winked. “Only when they marry into the club, so to speak.”

  “You are Clubs, aren’t you?” she murmured thoughtfully. “The lucky one.”

  “Always,” Farring replied with a not-quite-genuine smile.

  Julia marked the end of her piece with particular flourish.

  “Brava!” Farring stood and clapped. “I say. What a lark these past few days have been—minus Rayne’s unfortunate absconding. We should do it again next year.”

  “I believe,” Giles said drily, “it is the custom to wed only once.”

  In the distance, men began to shout. Then, the doors to the library burst open with explosive force. Rayne stepped into the center of the room, chest heaving. A group of servants trailed him, apologizing profusely.

  “Lord Rayne is welcome,” Markham said, dismissing them. “There’s no need for a fuss.”

  “You hear that,” Rayne asked Giles. “I dare you to tell me to leave.”

  “Nonsense!” Markham exclaimed. “Why would Brom tell you to leave? I take it you’ve resolved your family trouble?”

  “Family trouble.” Rayne snorted. “Is that what you told him? I haven’t any family trouble, pup. Unless you consider the way Bromton humiliated my sister. I was halfway back to London when I decided an eye for an eye was indeed appropriate.”

  “Don’t do this, Rayne,” Bromton said. “It’s me you wish to hurt, no one else.”

  “Brom!” Markham frowned. “What’s gotten into you all?

  “The question of the hour,” Rayne said, “is what, exactly, is eating away at the once too-grand-for-Prinny-himself Marquess of Bromton? What would make him break a long-standing engagement, gamble away his estates, and shackle himself to a forgotten spinster?”

  “That is enough,” Giles said.

  “Rayne.” Farring advanced. “It is not your office to interfere.”

  “Is it not?” He leveled his gaze at Giles. “Truth belongs to no one. Tell her, Bromton. Tell your betrothed about the card game Markham won.”

  Strangely, Katherine found she could not move. She was paralyzed, unable to intervene in the worst play she’d ever attended. A play whose climax she’d suspected was coming all along.

  Markham cleared his throat. “The ladies do not wish to hear about idle male pursuits.”

  “I do,” Julia said. “What did Markham win?”

  “The damnedest thing,” Rayne said. “Brom insisted we play a high-stakes game with secret bets. Markham won, and yet, Brom collected Markham’s stakes.”

  “No, I did not.” Giles frowned. “Markham kept his theater box.”

  Farring looked out over his glasses, his gaze moving between Rayne and Giles and Markham. “Damn me.”

  Julia put her hands on her hips. “Markham does not have a theater box.”

  “Markham did not bet a theater box,” Rayne said. “A fact, it appears, even Bromton did not know. Tell them what you bet, Markham.”

  Katherine shot to her feet. A lump of some emotion she could not name balled in her throat. She swayed. Farring caught her against his side.

  “You said something of great value,” Markham said. “And the thing I had of greatest value—”

  “Percival!” Oh dear God. She was going to be sick all over Farring’s beautifully tailored trousers.

  “Act like men, would you?” Farring said with uncharacteristic harshness.

  “What is going on?” Julia demanded.

  A muscle worked in Giles’s jaw. Markham’s face filled with pleading concern.

  “You love him, Kate,” Markham said.

  “Me,” Katherine whispered. “You lost me to Bromton.”

  “No!” Markham exclaimed. “I won Bromton for you.” Markham went red, realizing his mistake. “The two of you suit. You know you do. The ends justif—”

  Katherine tripped over her skirt as she rushed for her brother. Giles caught her arm before the full force of her fury hit Markham’s jaw. Bromton’s hold burned like heated iron on her upper arms.

  “Let me go!”

  “Shhh,” he crooned in his most lulling voice. “Shhh. This doesn’t change a thing.”

  “It changes everything!”

  “So long as we are being honest,” Rayne said. “Ask Brom how he really feels about his mother’s marriage.”

  “You will pay for this,” Bromton faced Rayne, speaking through gritted teeth.

  Julia stepped in front of Rayne. “I won’t allow you to hurt him.”

  “Kate,” Markham stepped forward.

  Katherine’s head pounded. “Leave!” she shouted. “Everyone leave.
Everyone,” she twisted in Bromton’s grip, “but you. And you will, for once, tell me the truth.”

  “Katherine, please,” Markham entreated again.

  “You,” she narrowed her eyes at her brother, “I will speak with, later. And you had better have a footman escort Lord Rayne from the house.” She turned to face Rayne. “Unless, that is, you do not mind that he nearly seduced Julia last night.”

  “Jesus, Rayne,” Markham spoke in horror. “I—I do not believe it.”

  “He did not,” Julia declared. “I asked him for a kiss. He obliged.”

  “Rayne!” Markham growled.

  “I love him,” Julia declared.

  “No, minx.” Rayne’s voice softened for the first time. “No, you don’t.”

  “I suggest we abide by Lady Katherine’s wishes.” Farring shepherded everyone toward the door. “Let us continue this discussion in the hall.”

  As the doors closed, Katherine’s eyes darted about the familiar room as if she’d never set foot within its walls. Everything appeared unfamiliar, strange. Then, she spotted the book she’d left resting on the writing desk. The book she had read and reread so many times.

  She recited her favorite line aloud, “Independence I will ever secure by contracting my wants, though I were to live on a barren heath.” She laughed a bitter laugh.

  Why had she changed course? Hubris, of course. She was guilty of the worst kind. She’d believed Bromton—a bloody marquess—was interested in her. She choked on her vitriol. Worst still, she’d believed he had come to care for her. She’d actually believed she’d found in him a kindred soul. All along, however, he’d pursued her hand as a matter of honor. The answer to an infernal bet.

  Had she thought she’d known humiliation? Septimus? Cartwright? Brummell? They’d hurt her, yes, but not like this.

  The most unmarriageable woman in England had finally met her match. And she’d met him thanks to the turn of a card.

  …

  Giles held Katherine securely in his grip, but she was slipping away. He could not stop her retreat, any more than he could prevent a wave from receding back into the ocean.

  “Markham won,” she said flatly, “but you collected. How did that happen?”