A Most Peculiar Season Series Boxed Set: Five Full-length Connected Novels by Award-winning and Bestselling Authors

by Michelle Willingham

  Mr. Amory did not seem aware, either.

  No, this had to be a jest. Or she had to be mistaken. Lancelot was not a thief. He would never steal in earnest. The Carrs were obscenely wealthy even in comparison to their wealthier peers, and they certainly had more than the Amorys. There would be no reason for Lancelot to steal from anyone, and certainly not from someone less fortunate.

  As she watched, Lancelot disengaged himself from the group with loud good-byes and an airy wave. She heard him call to his friend, Rother, that he’d meet him later at White’s Gentleman’s Club. Then he spotted her, waved, raised his index finger, and pointed to indicate he’d see her later at home.

  There was something very peculiar going on, and Trudy meant to get to the bottom of it. She made a quick excuse to her friends, opened her green ruffled parasol, and made her way alone to the garden’s central fountain.

  Dare left his hat and walking stick with the Ashland’s butler and passed through the music room French doors to the gardens. These things—garden parties and such—were not his cup of tea, but he’d been invited, as he always was, and decided this would be an excellent place to start his investigation. He paused on the terrace to survey the gathering.

  Mrs. Ashland spied him, disengaged herself from a group of chattering women, and came to greet him. “Collingwood! I dared not hope you would actually come!”

  He bowed to the elegant graying woman. “I find I’m feeling a bit more social these days, Mrs. Ashland.”

  “About time, I would imagine. Finally giving thought to getting a wife and an heir?”

  He gave her a pained smile. “Not in the least, Mrs. Ashland. All the best women are already married.”

  His hostess smiled and blushed at the implied compliment. He couldn’t very well announce that he’d be attending every social event he was invited to until he’d found the Mayfair Shadow.

  Upon reflection—and especially after hearing about Lady Beatrice’s emerald at White’s this morning—he’d come to suspect that, as improbable as it seemed, the thief was likely a member of the ton, or at least had easy access to the ton. The security at Carlton House last night had been impressive. None of the riffraff would have been admitted.

  He offered his arm to Mrs. Ashland to accompany her down to the tables and tents set up on the expansive lawns. “I hadn’t realized I’ve been so remiss in my social obligations.”

  “Never mind, Collingwood. Your elusiveness has only served to make you more desirable. I heard more than one maiden’s sigh when you stood on the terrace before coming down to the gardens.”

  A gross exaggeration, he was sure. And for no particular reason, he thought of Trudy Carr. Was she the sighing sort? He somehow doubted that.

  Mrs. Ashland took his arm and led him toward a group of tables laden with tea services, punch bowls, tiered plates of teacakes, watercress sandwiches, biscuits, fruit ices and sweetmeats. “And now you are about to pay your dues. I intend to introduce you to every eligible female here. Heaven only knows when we might capture your attention again.”

  Actually, that would be quite useful. Women were the most frequent victims of the Shadow, though nearly as many men reported stolen cravat pins, rings, watch fobs and gold- or silver-embellished walking sticks.

  Dare was saved the duty of remembering names by the simple fact that he already knew most of Mrs. Ashland’s guests. He’d been long enough in society to be familiar with the names, if not the faces. After introductions to everyone in his immediate vicinity, he glanced around to see who else might be in attendance, and if there were any unfamiliar faces.

  And there, sitting alone on the edge of a fountain, holding a small iced teacake on a plate in one hand and a green parasol in the other, sat Miss Trudy Carr, staring into the distance. Deciding to pay his respects, he joined her at the fountain.

  “Miss Trudy. How very unexpected to see you again so soon. And alone.”

  She gave a little start and turned to him. “Oh! Lord Collingwood! Goodness. My mind must have been somewhere else.” She stood and dropped a proper curtsy.

  “May I ask where?”

  “Best if you do not. ’Twas not all sugarplums and happy dreams. In fact, I should warn you against even sitting with me, lest it become contagious.”

  Lord, he loved her honesty. Most society women would pretend they were nothing if not happy and congenial. Conversely, he sat as close beside her as propriety allowed. “How intriguing. Tell me what is amiss.”

  She blinked and pursed those generous lips. He was almost startled to realize just how much he’d like to kiss them. “If you must know, my lord—”

  “Collingwood, if you will.”

  “If you must know, Collingwood, I have been delegated to represent the Carrs at this event, since Laura and Fiona are shopping with Mother, and Lancelot had a previous engagement and could only spare half an hour. The bald truth is that I have no idea how to ‘represent the family.’”

  “Something you were not trained for, eh?”

  “Alas.”

  He stood again and offered his hand. “Then leave your teacake behind and come with me. I shall show you how. All you need do is greet as many people as possible and share meaningless conversation. The weather is a staple, or the Regent’s latest exploits. Mention your family once or twice—something inconsequential and meaningless—and you are done! The Carrs are well and truly represented.”

  She stood, took his arm and smiled up at him, her good humor evidently restored. “Is that what you do, Collingwood?”

  “When I bother at all.”

  “Very well. If I make a misstep, pinch my arm.”

  “Allow me to give you a small piece of advice. If you need to extricate yourself, mention your sister’s wedding. Especially to men. Once that topic is broached, they cannot escape fast enough and you are off to greet someone else.”

  She laughed and gave him a sideways glance. “Thank you for that little tidbit.”

  For the next hour, Dare wove her through the guests, stopping frequently to exchange pleasantries, and every time Miss Trudy brought up her sister’s wedding, he would hide his chuckle and lead her to the next group of people. He was not surprised to note that she had excellent manners. Though unfailingly pleasant, she was not quite as frank with others as she’d been with him. He couldn’t decide if that fact pleased or annoyed him.

  He knew the nature of his relationship with her would be the topic of speculation by tonight—or tomorrow at the latest. He could not remember the last time he’d remained by a woman’s side for more than quarter of an hour, but those who kept track of such things would have it down to the day, hour, and minute. For his part, he wasn’t in the least worried. Miss Trudy was eminently sensible and when he’d tired of her company, she would be easy to disengage from. And when that time came, he hoped they’d be able to remain cordial.

  When they’d made the rounds, he guided her toward a group of men he suspected she already knew. Most of them were friends of her brother.

  “Look who comes our way,” Rother called to him. “And look who he’s brought us—the youngest and loveliest of the Carr sisters. Well done, Dare!”

  Miss Trudy rolled her eyes comically. “Lord Rother, you are quite the wag. You mustn’t tease me or I might believe you.” She gave a curtsy that included the lot of them.

  “You have every right to believe me, Miss Trudy. ’Tis God’s own truth. I know that because your escort would never consort with plain or unprincipled women.”

  Miss Trudy turned to him and smiled, and he noted an odd sensation zinging up his spine.

  “And how do you know that?” she asked Rother.

  “Why, just this morning he has staked his claim to a new title. Foremost Thief-Taker in the Realm, was it not Dare?”

  He laughed. “You know it was. And I shall earn that title quite soon.”

  “What does that mean?” Miss Trudy’s brow furrowed.

  “Why, he declared his intention to capture the May
fair Shadow within a fortnight, at which time he will have earned that designation so long as he beats the charleys to it.”

  “Beat the charleys? Why should he bother?”

  “He put it on the books at White’s this morning.” Rother turned to Dare with a wink. “Now his reputation depends upon it.”

  “And because he is all things ethical,” Mr. Amory contributed. “Did you know he is a barrister? Women beware—Lord Dare’s only devotion is to Lady Justice.”

  Mr. Littleworth nodded. “I expected him to be out searching. Investigating. Or doing whatever thief-takers do. Not attending parties.”

  Dare raised an eyebrow. “Ah, but perhaps that is my business here, brethren.”

  Amory glanced up at the sun. “That is my cue, gentlemen. I believe it is time for me to meet my father at his solicitor’s office. Papers to sign and such.” He slipped his fingers into the watch pocket of his waistcoat and looked surprised, then patted the other pockets of his jacket. “Could have sworn I’d brought my watch,” he muttered.

  Dare felt Miss Trudy tense beside him. He looked down at her and fancied that the pulse at the hollow of her throat had sped. Certainly her breathing had quickened and her complexion had paled. He leaned close to her ear.

  “Are you ill, Miss Trudy?”

  “No! No... I, uh, should be going now. Fittings and such, you know. Father has hired a supper box for us before the festivities at Vauxhall Gardens on Saturday evening and wanted us to have new gowns. Thank you so much for your assistance this afternoon, Lord Collingwood. You’ve been most helpful.” She looked up at him, the twinkle back in her eyes. “I shall arrange for you to receive an invitation to my sister’s wedding.”

  He laughed. She was teasing him. When had anyone last attempted that? “You take instruction exceedingly well, Miss Trudy. I vow you will make an excellent hostess one day.”

  “That is very kind of you to say.” Once again, she curtsied, then turned and hurried up to the terrace and through the French doors.

  Chapter Four

  BECAUSE FATHER COMPLAINED of the scant portions at Vauxhall Gardens, Mother had arranged double portions for their table. The whole family had come tonight, including Colonel Burke, who could barely keep his eyes off Laura. Despite the generous amounts, everyone ate sparingly of the indifferent food. The wines, at least, were of the very best vintage, but Trudy preferred the infamous Vauxhall punch. She only indulged in one or two cups over the course of an evening because it was so strong.

  Their supper box enjoyed a superior position bordering the walks and the Carrs had been frequently interrupted to greet friends and make plans to meet later as they passed. Trudy waved to Mr. Amory and he lifted his walking stick to her. Would he think she was flirting? She frowned, now wishing she’d have been more aloof.

  “What a dark look, Gertie. What’s got you in such a brown study?”

  She turned and took her brother’s arm to lead him away from their box. It would never do to be overheard. “Do you believe in love, Skippy?”

  He raised an eyebrow and followed her gaze to look at Laura as if such a thing had never occurred to him. “Love? That is a romantic notion. We marry for much more practical reasons. But I believe in attraction. And passion.”

  Trudy sighed. She hadn’t thought about it before, but with Laura’s impending wedding, she couldn’t dismiss the notion that there should be something more. She wanted her sister to be passionately in love. Anything else seemed so... bloodless.

  “D’you fancy yourself in love, Gertie?”

  “Why do you think so?”

  “You’ve never mentioned love before. Is it Amory’s heir you fancy? And I saw you and Collingwood dancing.”

  Trudy laughed. “I’ve danced at every ball. Why should you think Collingwood has inspired me?”

  “The way you looked at him. I haven’t seen that look before. And the way he looked at you. Captivated.”

  “Balderdash! Collingwood was more likely amused. He called me impertinent.”

  His eyebrows rose nearly to his hairline. “Did he indeed? And what did you do or say to provoke such an assumption?”

  “I cannot even recall. Likely just one of my irrelevant asides.”

  “I can only imagine.”

  She supposed she ought not to tell him about the ‘wayward’ comment. Lancelot would be selecting dueling pistols at dawn over that one.

  “And speaking of Collingwood...”

  She glanced around and saw the man in question conversing with a group of his friends. How very interesting to see him again so soon. Thrice in the space of four days, and all after never even meeting him before! And then she thought of their last conversation. And Lancelot.

  Lord Collingwood had made his beliefs quite clear. The law above everything. And Lancelot, she suspected, had not troubled himself much about the law. That notion had tickled the back of her mind and had been steadily building since Mr. Amory had reached for his watch in Mrs. Ashland’s garden.

  She stopped walking and turned to face her brother. “Skippy, are you in some sort of trouble?”

  He frowned. “What would make you think such a thing?”

  She had her answer in his reply. She knew her brother, and knew he would have denied it if he could. “What sort of trouble is it?”

  “Now, Gertie. Nothing important. I always have little problems here and there, but I solve them.”

  “How?”

  “Keep out of it, Gertie. I do not need rescuing. That lamentable trait will get you in deep trouble someday. And what has you in such a state, anyway?”

  More answering questions with more questions, which was exactly what Lancelot did when he was in deep. “I saw you do the bump and lift with Mr. Amory at the garden party. Later, his watch—a family heirloom—was missing. He is telling everyone he was robbed by the Shadow. Was it you, Lancelot Carr?”

  He laughed at her use of his full name, but he glanced away and would not meet her eyes. “You are imagining things, Gertie.”

  An ugly thought occurred to her. “And you danced with Lady Beatrice at Carlton House.”

  “What? Are you suggesting I lifted Lady B’s emerald? Preposterous!”

  “Is it?”

  “Gertie, why would I do such a thing?”

  Oh, dear, now he was repeating himself! “Skippy, are you the Mayfair Shadow?”

  He glanced around and lowered his voice, suddenly nervous. “Hush! Even jesting about such a thing could cause tongues to wag. You will start a rumor.”

  And still, no denial. He was her baby brother. She loved him without reservation. But she could not watch him hang. Something had to be done.

  “We will go to Father. He would do anything for you.”

  “If you even mention this to him, I will never speak to you again.” He glanced to the side. “Damnation! Collingwood has seen us, and here he comes. Now cease this badgering at once.”

  Oh! Collingwood, of all people! A little shiver shot up her spine with Mr. Amory’s warning at the garden party. ...Because he is all things ethical. Did you know he is a barrister? Women beware—Lord Dare’s only devotion is to Lady Justice.

  No. She certainly would not want him suspecting her brother of any wrongdoing.

  A heavy shock of dark hair fell over Collingwood’s brow as he shook his head. “I wanted to take this opportunity to congratulate you on your efficiency, Miss Trudy. My invitation to your sister’s wedding arrived this evening as I was leaving to come here.”

  She laughed. “I could not resist. It is, after all, the event of the season, aside from Prinny opening Carlton House to the masses. But never fear. I warned Mother that we’d likely be receiving regrets from you.”

  “Too late. I’ve called your bluff and sent my acceptance. As you say, it is the event of the season.”

  “No! You did not.”

  “I did.” He grinned at her expression of shock.

  “Hmm. I shall have to dissuade myself of the notion that you are predi
ctable.” She had to resist the impulse to push his hair back like a naughty child.

  “Predictable? Lord! Is it my fate to be insulted each time we converse?”

  Lancelot cleared his throat and Trudy was startled to realize she’d forgotten he was there. “Good to see you again, Collingwood. Enjoying yourself?”

  “I am. I’ve been told there will be a surprise in the fireworks tonight.”

  “Yes, they seem determined to always exceed expectations.” He glanced apologetically at Trudy before turning back to Collingwood. “I really must be going. Arrangements to meet some friends, you know. Would you mind seeing Gertie back to our box?”

  “That would be my privilege,” he murmured.

  Trudy didn’t know whether to thank or curse her brother. Either way, it was a tidy escape for him that left her questions unanswered. But if Lancelot thought for a moment that this was the end of their conversation, he was quite mistaken.

  She watched as he retreated to their supper box, exchanged a few words with her father, and disappeared in the direction of the gates. She could only imagine where he was going or what he might be up to.

  Collingwood offered his arm and she took it with the barest hesitation.

  “Would you like to walk down toward the river, Miss Trudy? The fireworks should begin shortly and the view is better from there.”

  She turned back to their supper box and saw her father watching her. Lancelot must have told him he’d left her with Collingwood.

  Her father waved and Lord Collingwood nodded. “I believe your father just gave permission for me to walk with you.”

  “Do you know my father?” Odd that her father hadn’t mentioned such a thing, nor that Collingwood hadn’t mentioned when they had danced.

  Collingwood turned her down the Hermit’s Walk, one of the less-used close paths, leading away from the Grand Walk. “We have a longstanding banking relationship. I admire your father’s ethics and business acumen.”

  “I... I hope you did not accept the wedding invitation based on that, Lord Collingwood. I really did not expect you to come.”