by Lauren Smith
Audrey had wept quite piteously for weeks after her last suitor had fled when Cedric threatened to pull a pistol on him. If the dandy couldn’t stand up to a simple threat then he was not worthy of his sister’s time. Audrey needed a real man, not one who would spout drivel at family dinners and holiday gatherings. And children! He wouldn’t let Audrey bear the offspring of a spineless sapskull. That would happen over his dead body.
Then there was Horatia. How could he ignore that prickly problem? He wouldn’t mind in the least that she remain under his roof and never marry, but he knew that was selfish, and sensed a deep unhappiness in her. If only he knew what could be done to make her happy. He’d seen brief moments of excitement flicker in her eyes ever since Godric’s wedding, but he wasn’t quite sure what had caused them.
The door to his study opened. The butler stepped through, sighted Cedric and addressed him.
“You have a visitor, my lord.”
“Oh? Who is it?” he asked, getting to his feet. Perhaps the evening was looking up?
“Lord Lennox, my lord.”
“Show him in.”
Cedric grinned as Ashton strolled in. His friend was a welcome sight.
“Ash, you devil. What brings you here?” Cedric clasped his hand in warm greeting. Even though it had been only a day since they’d last met, it felt like ages. Melancholy often had that effect on him.
“I thought I might enjoy the evening with you. Jonathan is having dinner with Emily and Godric.”
“And Horatia,” Cedric added. His sister had told him she’d made plans to dine at Essex House.
“Oh? He did not mention…” Ashton’s brows drew together. “He must have forgotten.”
“It was last minute as I understand it. Care for a brandy?”
“Yes, thank you.” Ashton shrugged out of his dark blue coat. Had Audrey been here, she would have oohed and ahhed over the silver waistcoat’s finely embroidered pattern of birds in gold thread. A fleet of swallows, if Cedric was any judge. While Charles was the most interested in fashion among their number, Ashton was always elegant and presentable. Cedric, on the other hand, tended to put on whatever his valet laid out for the day. He didn’t give much thought to his appearance beyond that, much to his valet’s horror. The poor man likely wished he had a master more appreciative in the time and care taken to set his wardrobe to rights, but Cedric couldn’t find it in himself to care.
Cedric poured him a drink and the two men took chairs near the fire.
“And where is young Audrey this evening?” Ashton inquired.
“She is dining at Charles’s.”
“Oh?” The single syllable held such heavy innuendo that Cedric blinked and watched his friend more closely. He was up to something.
“She’s gone to his home for dinners before,” Cedric pointed out.
“She’s not a little girl anymore, Cedric. She’s a young lady out in society. A dinner with Charles without a proper chaperone is tempting ruination.” Ashton’s heavy tone was full of warning.
Cedric bristled at the implication.
“She went to dine there at the Countess of Lonsdale’s invitation and took her lady’s maid with her.” Charles’s mother should have shielded Audrey from any impropriety, but he supposed including a chaperone would have been one step better. One could never be too careful.
“On a related subject.” Ashton waited until Cedric glanced up. “It just so happens I’ve been meaning to speak to you about Audrey.”
Cedric raised a brow as he sipped his brandy. The warm burn in his throat soothed him. “What on earth about?”
“I believe you should see her settled soon.”
Cedric knew what Ashton meant, but feigned ignorance to buy him a moment to secure his temper.
“Settled?”
“Married.” The word echoed like canon fire.
Cedric set his brandy aside to scowl at his friend. “Not that my sisters are any concern of yours, but why?”
“I’ve been speaking to Emily and—”
“Oh Lord,” Cedric muttered. Would their suffering at the hands of that meddlesome Duchess never cease? As much as he adored Emily, she could drive him mad.
“Emily has a far better grasp of these matters than you or I, Cedric.” Ashton moved to the edge of his chair, propping his hands on his knees. “And she has become one of Audrey’s confidantes. Emily came to me, if that puts you in a more amiable mood. For my part I had no intention of bringing up such a delicate subject with you, but she insisted only I could do it.”
“Did she now?” Cedric allowed his sarcasm to show.
“Yes, she did. She believes you are less likely to draw a pistol on me than the others for suggesting something as shocking as marriage.” Ashton was no stranger to sarcasm either.
“Are you offering yourself in this discussion?” Cedric asked carefully, his fingers tightening around his glass.
“Of course not. Audrey’s a darling woman, but I’ve no interest in settling down with someone like her.”
“Too good for my sister, Lennox?” Cedric slammed his drink down on the side table between their chairs.
Ashton gave him a rueful smile. “You know my shipping line requires my constant attention and frequent voyages, and she is a lady who belongs in London if there ever was one. It would be most unfair to a sweet young bride. And you, my friend, are trying to make this about me, rather than her.”
“Fine, fine. But you aren’t telling me this without having a suggestion at hand, are you.” It wasn’t a question. Ashton would have thought this discussion through long before and come up with options.
“I had thought that Jonathan would make a suitable match. He’s not too much older than she is. Eighteen and twenty-four is not so great a distance.”
Cedric nearly spat out his brandy, which would have most certainly ruined the carpets. “Jonathan?” he sputtered. “You can’t be serious!”
“I’m quite serious. You don’t have any objection to him because of his background?”
The question was insulting. Cedric had never paid heed to titles and didn’t care one whit about Jonathan’s background. “No, of course not.”
“Then what has upset you? He needs an easier way into society. Marriage to Audrey would secure his place very nicely.”
“Secure his place? My sister is not a rung on a bloody social ladder!” he bellowed.
“I’m not saying that she is, so you may stop that infernal shouting.” Ashton kept his cool as always. “Listen, Cedric. Audrey is very taken with Jonathan. She told Emily she has a mind to set her cap for him. Why not let her? Jonathan is a good sort.”
“He’s a St. Laurent.” Surely Ashton knew better than to suggest Audrey marry a rakehell. She needed a good, loyal man who could handle her when her temper flared and more importantly, wouldn’t seek the beds of other women. Surely there had to be one man in England that was a more appropriate match.
Ashton nodded. “Granted, Godric had a few rough years to be sure. But he’s happy with Emily, and he’s loyal to her. You know that.”
“But who’s to say Jonathan will be the same?”
“I’ve spent quite a lot of time with him lately, and he has taken his new life very seriously. He’s no innocent, of course. As you said, he’s a St. Laurent. But he is no longer actively pursuing women, not like we were at his age. If he married Audrey, I believe he would settle into the married life without any fuss.”
“And here I thought you genuinely wished to see me tonight.” Cedric narrowed his eyes. “No, instead you beat down my door to discuss Audrey’s suitors and marriage! This might as well be a business meeting. Fancy the rising trend in salted pork? Or should I invest in Mr. Stephenson’s new railway scheme in Stockton?”
“What’s really troubling you, Cedric?”
“There is nothing troubling m
e.” His grumbled response made him sound like a wounded bear, but he didn’t care.
Ashton leaned back in his chair as though settling in. “You are a terrible liar.” Why that enraged Cedric, he couldn’t say, he only had the sudden urge to blacken one of Ashton’s eyes.
“And you are a terrible friend.”
Ashton’s eyes widening was the only indication of his surprise. “Perhaps you’re right. I came here to discuss Audrey’s future and I had no thought as to how that would affect you.”
Cedric was increasingly uncomfortable. He knew his friend was right but, damn the man, he felt terrible for not having better composure.
“Would you like me to leave?” Ashton asked.
Cedric looked back to the fire. The tense silence became suffocating. Ashton rose from his chair.
“I’ll see myself out.” He nodded in farewell.
Only when Ashton reached the drawing room door did Cedric call out to him. “You haven’t finished your brandy.”
Ashton looked back at the lonely glass on the table. “It would be rude of me to leave it half full, I suppose.”
“Impossibly rude.” Cedric gave the barest hint of a smile. Ashton returned and made a great scene of sitting deep into his chair, as though he would not be leaving anytime soon.
“Now, since I’m not done with my drink, there is plenty of time for us to talk.”
It took Cedric a few moments to properly gather his thoughts.
“I’m failing as a brother, Ash. Horatia is dreadfully unhappy, Audrey is distressed over my boorish treatment of her would-be suitors and the truth is that I’m doing everything within my power to not end up here alone.” There was the crux of the problem. He didn’t want to be left with an empty house, no family, just silence and servants. He feared it like nothing else in the world, save losing those he loved.
“Let us take one problem at a time, shall we? Firstly, you won’t be alone. The League is constantly infiltrating your life, and on occasion your home, for our nefarious purposes.” The twinkle in Ashton’s eyes was a comfort beyond words. “Just because your sisters may someday leave does not plunge you into eternal solitude. You know you may call on any of us at any time should you feel the least bit melancholy. Now, as to Audrey, you know my opinion on the matter. Marry her off to a good man soon, and if it is Jonathan, you’ll see her quite often. She loves you far too much to abandon you for any husband. Hasn’t our policy always been the more the merrier?”
Cedric grumbled. “Dash it all. I hate how bloody sensible you are. I sound like some mulish fop who fears losing control over something he never actually had control of.”
“You’re not a fop. Mulish absolutely, but a fop? Never.”
“You’re very lucky that I like you. Otherwise I would be tempted to point a pistol at you after all.”
Ash grinned. “Yes, yes. Now, about Horatia. What is making her unhappy?”
“That’s just it. I have no idea.”
“Not one?” Ashton seemed surprised.
“She mopes about, sighing and her eyes often seem red as though she’s been crying. And then there was this morning with Charles.”
“Charles again?” Ashton mused.
“He offered to take her riding, something she usually loves but at first she declined. It was only when I mentioned that Lucien and Audrey would be down soon for breakfast that she couldn’t seem to leave fast enough.”
“It seems you already have the answer to her unhappiness.”
“I do?” What the devil was Ash playing at?
“Of course. Horatia has no problem with her sister, does she?”
Cedric swirled his brandy glass, considering the morning’s odd turn of events. “Well, no, other than the usual sisterly squabbles.”
“And the only other person you mentioned was?” Ashton prompted.
“Lucien? But why would she…” Cedric didn’t want to consider what that meant.
“That is what we must discover,” Ashton said.
“But Lucien barely notices her.”
“Perhaps that is the problem. No one likes to be ignored, especially on purpose.”
“But she’s gotten along fine with it for years. It has only been since September when Emily first came here that Horatia started showing signs of unhappiness.”
Ashton’s eyes narrowed. “How very curious.”
“Not really. Lucien blames her for ruining his match to Melanie Burns all those years ago.”
This caught the fair-haired baron completely off guard. “Pardon?”
Cedric explained the long buried secret of that day in the gardens when he’d taken his sisters to Lucien’s estate in Kent.
“She said she loved him? Perhaps that’s it. She still does,” Ashton suggested.
“How could she love someone who won’t spare a moment’s thought for her?” His sister was smarter than that. She wouldn’t pin her hopes on such a man. Horatia was sensible, not a fool.
Ashton sighed. “Aren’t you familiar with the term ‘unrequited love?’”
“This isn’t a joke, Ash.”
“I’m not speaking in jest. It’s probable that Horatia is still in love with Lucien. She has seen too much of him lately and has suffered his cold manner and it has made her upset.”
“If that is the case then it is my fault. I’ve been pushing him to stay here more often and I haven’t cared to think about his feelings in the matter, or hers it would seem.”
“Do not punish yourself. There is every chance that Lucien sees Horatia as some form of temptation and treating her coldly is a way of keeping his distance.”
“What on earth do you mean?”
Ashton took a sip of his brandy. “We have our rules, remember, and Lucien has a sister. He understands the brotherly instinct to protect those under his charge. It is possible that he fears Horatia will someday be a target, however unintentional, of his natural charm.” Ashton stroked his jaw. “Therefore he is cold to her, in hopes her declaration of love from years ago never resurfaces.”
“I don’t follow. Are you saying he desires my sister?” The idea of Lucien even thinking of Horatia as he would any other woman made Cedric’s blood boil. He refused to believe it.
The other man merely smiled.
“Never mind, Cedric. We won’t worry any more about it tonight.” Ashton took another sip of his drink.
A sudden pounding on the front door alerted both men to the world outside their thoughts.
“Now who the devil could that be?” Cedric muttered. He and Ash abandoned their brandy and headed into the hall where a tired footman was already moving to open the door.
Charles stormed in, dragging a disheveled, swollen-lipped and upset Audrey. Cedric, unusually observant about his sister tonight, immediately assessed the clearly dangerous situation. Someone had been kissing his sister, kissing her hard enough to give her that singularly bee-stung plumpness to her lips. Furthermore, she was upset, though not as though she meant to cry. No, she was livid, like a spitting mad cat.
“What on earth?” Cedric began.
“Sheridan!” Charles snapped as he shoved Audrey deeper into the hallway as the footman shut the door.
“Charles?” Cedric replied in shock.
“You have to do something about your sister! Marry her to the first oaf in Hyde Park if you must, but for God’s sake, get her married!” After Charles’s violent outburst the hall became deathly silent.
“Oh dear,” Ashton said. This would not end well.
Chapter Nine
“Not a penny until the conditions are met, and there is dirt falling upon a grave.”
Horatia’s heart shot into her throat as she struggled to listen to the low voice on the other side of the garden hedge.
“Oh my God,” Horatia hissed at the same time that Lucien growled,
“That bastard!”
Lucien pulled Horatia by the hand back through the hedges and once more into their room.
“We have to leave now,” he said in a tone rough.
“I can see myself home.” She couldn’t keep her voice from shaking.
“No chance of that, Horatia. I’m taking you to Godric’s.”
Horatia froze.
“How…how long have you known?” Her hands flew to her mask, still firmly in place.
“How long have I known what?” Lucien asked as he grabbed his overcoat and cloaked it around her shoulders.
“How long have you known it was me?” She fought to remain calm, despite the wild gallop of her heart, and clutched his coat tighter around her.
“Since you walked in the door.”
Horatia’s stomach pitched straight towards her feet.
“What we did…that was…” She had no words to say anything more. “And you knew!” Her tone came out more accusatory than she intended. She had meant to seduce him after all.
“Tonight was a lesson for you to be careful around men,” Lucien replied. “A lady of your standing shouldn’t be here. What would Cedric think if he found out?”
“What about the garden? The stars? Was it all a lie?” Horatia’s lower lip shook, but the anger she wished she could summon did not appear. She was bruised and hurting inside. Why was it whenever Lucien was around to wound her she lost the urge to fight? Was it because she cared so much about him that she didn’t want to quarrel?
“Everything that happened tonight was a lie. Deep down you knew that. I gave you what you sought while retaining your virtue, at least in the most literal sense. Others would not be so considerate. I was playing along for your benefit.”
“My benefit? Don’t you dare cheapen what happened between us!” Horatia winced at the shrillness of her own voice. Her right hand raised as though to slap Lucien. “I won’t let you!”