Scandal of the Season

by Liana Lefey

  “Thank you,” he said with evident relief. “You must understand, I spoke only out of concern for you. I had no way of knowing you’d looked to me as any sort of example.”

  She couldn’t help smiling. “A young lady could do no better,” she told him, her spirits rising as he smiled back. The shadow over her heart returned, however, when it faded after only a moment. “Come,” she said quickly, taking his arm once more. “Let us put our silly little misunderstanding behind us. The sun is out, the sky is blue, and I’m quite over it.”

  “It gladdens me to hear you say it,” he said, his smile returning as they proceeded onward.

  “So, is it to be a necklace, a ring, or a brooch?” she asked, anxious to move to a safe topic.

  His face went blank for an instant before he answered. “My mother’s birthday. Yes. A brooch would do nicely I think.”

  Clearly, his “gift” had been nothing more than a contrivance to get her away from Yarborough. He’d always been protective, and Yarborough had overstepped a boundary when he’d refused to let her go. That Sorin had so readily leaped to her defense elicited a feeling of great warmth and happiness.

  “Or perhaps a ring might be a better choice,” he said, glancing at her sidelong. “I’ve marked how much women seem to like rings.”

  Despite the sunshine, a chill settled over her. Perhaps he is considering a ring for Caroline…best to dissuade him of that idea! “Then again, maybe she already has so many rings that another might not be considered special.” She watched him carefully, looking for any clue as to what was going on inside his head.

  But his face remained inscrutable. “As I have little expertise in the area of selecting gifts for ladies, I shall bow to your superior perspective.”

  “Rubbish,” she chided, her disappointment turning to delight at having been provided a perfect opening to change the subject. “You underestimate yourself, as usual. The gifts you sent me from abroad never failed to bring me great pleasure. I especially liked the clever little puzzle box you sent me last Christmas.” Inside, nestled on a bed of fragrant exotic herbs, had been a miniscule ivory elephant encrusted with tiny, sparkling gems. It was one of her most prized possessions not because of its value but because of the thoughtfulness it represented. She’d once mentioned how very much she wanted to see an elephant.

  “I’m gratified to know you enjoyed it so much.” He stopped. “I wonder if perhaps…”

  She turned to face him. “Yes?”

  “I don’t wish to impose, but would you consider accompanying me to Rundell & Bridge’s when we arrive in London? I cannot help thinking it would be better to have a woman’s opinion while making my selection.”

  A telltale shifting from foot to foot belied a nervousness she’d never before observed in him. Oh no! He is considering a ring for Caroline! Why else would he ask her best friend to accompany him to a jeweler’s? “I would be more than happy to accompany you. And I’m sure Rowena will be equally delighted at the prospect of such an outing, although I doubt my cousin will share her enthusiasm.”

  “I’m sure she’ll be able to convince Ashford otherwise—provided she is not already engaged elsewhere.”

  Heart in her throat, she forced out her next inquiry. “What of Caroline?”

  He frowned. “What of her?”

  “Well, should she not come along as well?”

  “If you wish her company, then by all means invite her to join us,” he said with ill-concealed impatience. “Invite anyone you like. We’ll make a party of the event.”

  Eleanor felt like sinking into the ground. I knew it! Taking his arm again, she propelled them forward to disguise her upset. “Actually, now that I think of it, it might be better if we did not ask her. It might be an unkindness.”

  “Oh? How so?”

  Sighing, she shot him a sorrowful look. “Not to be indelicate, but her prospects are not such that she’s likely to ever be able to afford the kind of merchandise offered at Rundell & Bridge’s. Her lack of a significant fortune destines her for a baronet, at best.”

  His brows crashed together. “Her lack of money is an unfortunate circumstance, certainly. But why should it limit her in so definite a manner? Not all men marry solely for money, Ellie.”

  “Perhaps,” she said, keeping her tone light, in spite of her panic. “But I’ve learned that most give it a great deal of consideration when it comes to the selection of their bride. Marriage has ever been a mercenary practice for the aristocracy—for both genders. Of course I hope Caroline marries for love, but I’m forced to be as pragmatic about it as the lady herself.”

  “Pragmatic? A week ago the girl was prattling on about longings of the heart and meaningful relationships.”

  “That was strictly for the benefit of her audience,” she said in her driest tone. “Later when we were alone, she confided in me that she plans to marry the fattest purse she can catch this Season.” She felt no guilt for having said it, for it was the absolute truth.

  “Is her situation so very desperate?”

  Alarm traced a cold finger down her spine. The last thing she needed was for him to feel sympathy for Caroline! “You misunderstand,” she said with a little chuckle. “While Caroline’s family is limited in means, they are nowhere near destitute. Should she decide not to marry, she will certainly suffer no privation—but she would be ill content with such a life. More than anything, for her, marriage is a vehicle for improving her station. She, like so many, aims to marry up. I only hope that in her ambition she does not set her cap at too high a mark and miss an opportunity to make a perfectly agreeable match with someone nearer her rank. Ah! There is Rowena over by the gate.”

  Satisfaction filled her. There. That ought to put an end to it.

  The motivation behind her rather unsubtle warning was something Sorin dearly wished to explore, but the fact that Eleanor had forgiven him for embarrassing her and was now conversing so affably was enough to make him let the matter drop.

  Her demeanor toward him was vastly improved compared to this morning. Perhaps her friendliness was simply due to his having delivered her from Yarborough’s clutches, but he hoped it was more. He’d wait and see whether she mentioned the lout’s interest to her guardians. Given her apparent eagerness to escape, he didn’t think she would speak of him in favorable terms. If she did, then there was a whole new set of unpleasant variables to consider.

  For now, however, it appeared he had the advantage. Rundell & Bridge’s had been a stroke of genius. The “birthday present” had been a complete fabrication, of course—he’d obtained a suitable gift ages ago—but such an outing would provide him another opportunity to gain useful insight, maybe even make her see him in a new light. After all, how could a woman look at rings with a man and not think of marriage?

  A rush of anticipatory pleasure washed over him—as well as anxiety. As much as he wanted to tell Charles of his intentions prior to revealing them to Eleanor, his heart told him it would be a mistake. Despite their long friendship, he didn’t doubt for a moment it would cause complete uproar, and he could ill afford to risk losing access to Eleanor even for a short time. Also, Charles was very bad at subterfuge. Like his cousin, he possessed an open temperament. One could often guess what he was thinking just by observing his face. Eleanor, for all her naïveté, was no fool and would see right through him.

  What he needed now was time, time to let her get to know him as a man, time to forge a new relationship with her, one of equals. He marked the roses in her cheeks and the closeness of her hold on his arm as they crossed the churchyard. It was heavenly being near her like this.

  “Remember the day you taught me how to make a proper fist?” she asked suddenly.

  He smiled. “How can I forget?” He’d ridden into the stables to find her huddled in a corner, hay in her hair, mud on her dress, and her face streaked with wrathful tears. He’d been livid when she’d told him the reason behind her condition, though she’d never revealed the culprit’s name. />
  “Well, the boy who pushed me down that day was Yarborough.”

  “I wondered about the identity of your bête noire,” he said far more calmly than he felt. He liked Yarborough even less, now that he knew for certain.

  “Yes, well the next time he tried to shove me down, I knocked him flat on his…” She glanced at him guiltily. “Derriere,” she finished, a sheepish grin on her lips. “He never bothered me again.”

  Until today. “You could have told me, you know. I would have been pleased to correct his misconduct.”

  She gave a disdainful snort. “And what a coward he would have thought me, running to tell the tale. No, far better that he learned for himself I’m no weakling to be trifled with.”

  “Weakling is never a term I would associate with you,” he said, earning a quick smile. “But even as courageous as you are, you might find that being sheltered and protected is not such a terrible thing. The world can be a very harsh place, especially for women.”

  This sage advice was met with a long sigh. “I shall have no need of protection because I have no intention of provoking anyone’s enmity. Did you not just witness how I handled Yarborough? The wounds of the past are long healed over. I have no enemies to fear.”

  Indeed he had witnessed it. And he hadn’t liked it one bit. “If only provocation was a requirement for conflict, but that’s not how the world works.”

  “I’m not so naive as to think it does,” she answered testily. “I well know the injustices this world is capable of visiting upon those undeserving of punishment. But it does so far less often to those who choose to live simply and quietly. I have the means to achieve that end.”

  Stopping again, he turned to face her. “Is that really all you desire, Ellie? A simple, quiet life on your own?” Her silence revitalized his hope. “Though you might not think it, independence—a highly relative term in my opinion—involves such complications as you have likely never considered.”

  “I am perfectly capable of caring for myself,” she insisted, lifting her nose a fraction higher.

  He couldn’t help smiling. “Tell me, how much longer do you plan to remain at Holbrook?”

  She blinked at the sudden change of topic. “I imagine I shall stay for as long as I like. It is my home, after all. Charles and Rowena are certainly happy enough with my company. Just yesterday, Rowena told me how appreciative she is of my help with the children.”

  He’d suspected she was unprepared for the reality of her situation. This was going to take a light touch. “For now,” he said gently. “But is that what you really want? To act as a sort of governess to your cousin’s children until they are all grown?”

  “I’m no governess, even if I do help with the children from time to time,” she retorted with pride. “Nor am I an impoverished relation to be taken advantage of so meanly, not that Charles and Rowena would ever do such a thing.”

  “Of course not, and I would never impugn them by implying they would,” he said at once. “But at the same time, Holbrook is their home. As long as you remain under his roof, you are Charles’s responsibility and live under his auspices. Do you really wish to linger, even as an honored member of the family, where you will never truly be in command of your own direction?” It was time to put it plainly. “Neither he nor Rowena expect you to remain at Holbrook forever. They expect you to establish a permanent home for yourself elsewhere.”

  The color slowly leached from her face. “They have told you this?”

  “Not in those exact words, but it has been implied in every conversation I’ve heard between them concerning you. Rowena has expressed high hopes for you this Season and has in fact begun quietly making preliminary plans for your wedding. Charles, too.”

  “But I’ve told them that I never want to—”

  “It’s not uncommon for young ladies to swear off marrying,” he cut in gently. “But very few ever follow through on such a vow. Your guardians fully anticipate your marriage and departure within the year.”

  Her expression went from stricken to mutinous. “Then I shall have to make arrangements of my own, shan’t I? I’ll—I’ll contact Charles’s solicitor and have him procure a property for me, and I’ll ask Rowena to help me hire the appropriate staff for it.”

  “A well-born young lady cannot live alone, no matter how wealthy she is,” he reminded her.

  “Though you may think otherwise, I have not forgotten the rules,” she snipped. “Naturally, I shall require a suitable companion. Caroline would do nicely enough.”

  “I think we both know how unlikely that is,” he said with a chuckle. “She’s sworn to ‘marry the fattest purse she can catch,’ if I remember correctly.”

  But having her words tossed back at her only caused her to bristle. “Were I to make her an offer of independence, she would no doubt be most willing to alter her plans.”

  “Shall we go now and ask her?” he suggested, unable to resist goading her.

  “I would rather ask her in private,” she replied, flushing deeply. “Even if she does not agree, there are plenty of other like-minded ladies who would be delighted to be offered control of their own destiny. Why should I, or any other woman with the means to do otherwise, be forced to answer to a man for her every decision?”

  I was right, he thought. He knew why she longed for autonomy. She’d felt powerless for nearly her whole life, beginning with her parents’ deaths. And now she was being pressured to marry and effectively give up what little control she had over her own fate. “I did not mean to offend you,” he said gently. “I merely wish to help.”

  “You may best help by persuading Charles and Rowena not to anticipate an event that is unlikely to happen,” she snapped, not mollified in the least.

  “Unlikely, perhaps, but not impossible—even for one so stubborn as you,” he teased, in spite of the danger.

  Her burnished gold brows collided. “I shall not marry, I tell you! There is nothing that could make me—” She faltered, and for an instant he saw something in her eyes that made his pulse jump. Then it was gone, replaced by a recalcitrant glare. “There is not a man on this earth to persuade me otherwise,” she ended briskly.

  “At the risk of again incurring your wrath, I will once more advise you against surrounding your heart with walls so high that none can scale them,” he said. “I tried to hide from life once and found that doing so brought me only loneliness and misery. I watched my friends move on while I remained stagnant and was left behind. I wasted so much time and missed out on so many wonderful things, and all out of fear. That is time I will never recover.” It was terribly risky telling her this, but she needed to know. Even if she never saw him as a potential mate, she needed to hear it for her own sake. “I would not wish you to endure that kind of regret. I live with it daily, and it is a most unpleasant burden.”

  Her mouth parted in surprise. “I—I did not know. I never thought you’d…not after…” Blushing, she ducked her head. “After you lost Jane, I simply never imagined that…I mean, you certainly never appeared to desire anything but to be left alone in that regard,” she blurted, her color deepening. “What I mean to say is that it is entirely understandable that you would wish to be left in peace after suffering such a tragedy.” Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders. “But that is all to change now that you’ve determined to marry, of course. I’m sure you’ll be very happily wed in no time at all.”

  The prediction had been uttered with forced cheer, giving him hope. “Wed perhaps, but ‘happily’ is debatable. At my age, I don’t hold much hope for a love match.”

  “Then you will compromise where I will not,” she said, her discomfiture vanishing in the face of firm resolve. “But perhaps I’ll be more fortunate than you in the area of regrets, for I make my choice without any reason save my own preference. I have neither the need nor the desire to marry. Therefore, I shan’t. And nothing Charles says or does can change my mind.” Again, she began to walk.

  Bloody hell. “E
leanor, wait,” he said, hastening to catch up. Without thinking, he reached out and grasped her elbow.

  When she turned, he saw pain written on her features. Almost at once, however, her former mask of nonchalance returned. “Have you yet more sage advice to offer?”

  He wanted to answer her, but nothing came out of his mouth. The sight of her beautiful face upturned and lit by the gentle morning sun drove all coherent thought from his mind. One of her dark-honey brows lifted. Say something, you idiot! “I never wanted to—”

  “Eleanor!”

  It was Rowena, and she was fast approaching. Smothering a curse, Sorin stepped away from Eleanor and bowed to greet Rowena as she dipped a hasty curtsy.

  “I’ve some wonderful news to share,” she said, a bit breathless. “But first, Charles bade me extend to you an invitation to dine with us tomorrow night.”

  “I should be much obliged, of course.” Good. Another opportunity.

  “Excellent.”

  “What news?” prompted Eleanor.

  Rowena turned to her with a smug gleam in her eye. “Lady Yarborough has just announced that she and her son will be coming to London for the Season.”

  “Yes, I’m aware—he told me himself just a short while ago,” Eleanor explained.

  She looked none too pleased about it, Sorin noted with satisfaction.

  “Yes, but my news is that we are to be a party for the journey,” continued Rowena. “Their carriage suffered an incident while bringing her son up from London. As such, I’ve offered her a seat in ours. I did not think you’d mind.”

  “Not at all,” Eleanor answered at once. “I have Caroline to keep me company. Why should you not also have a friend along?”

  “I knew you would be agreeable,” said Rowena, beaming. She turned again to Sorin. “Sir Yarborough will, of course, ride out front with you and Charles. If it looks to rain, they will both likely need to beg a seat in your carriage.”

  Sorin could feel his jaw tightening. He forced himself to relax. “It would be my pleasure, and I’m sure my mother won’t mind the company.”