Scandal of the Season

by Liana Lefey

  Rowena’s cheeks pinked. “Lady Wincanton is, of course, welcome to join us in the ladies’ carriage any time she desires.”

  “I’m sure she will be delighted to join you at intervals,” he said, hoping to ease her embarrassment over what he knew to be an unintentional omission. Despite his mother’s interest in Eleanor, he very much doubted she would wish to join an already full carriage. The presence of both Lady Yarborough and Miss Caroline would be too a strong deterrent. His mother demanded a certain level of decorum—and while dignity could be found in nearly every societal rank, it was most definitely lacking in both of those ladies. Even so, if it did rain, she would likely still prefer their company to that of the menfolk.

  In an unexpected show of support, Eleanor spoke up. “I think it a most sensible arrangement, considering the condition of the roads and the recent predations of highwaymen along the route. Sir Yarborough was fortunate to have survived his carriage’s mishap and to have been close to a town when it happened. He was even more blessed not to have fallen prey to thieves while seeking assistance. The larger our party, the safer we shall all be.”

  Sorin found it difficult to hide his surprise and disgruntlement over her seeming concern for her supposed enemy. “Indeed. Most sensible. I shall relay the news to my mother so that preparations may be made.” Preparations for battle. Across the yard, he saw Charles talking to none other than Lady Yarborough and her odious offspring. Eleanor had no doubt noticed as well, but he could read nothing in her face. Damn and blast! It was time to strike a blow.

  Chapter Seven

  Eleanor’s face ached with the effort it took not to scowl. While she’d been strolling slowly to stretch the time with Sorin, Yarborough had gone straight to Charles! No doubt the blackguard was hoping his presence during the journey to London would endear him to her family and give him an edge over other suitors.

  Mingled with vexation was a burning desire to know what Sorin had been about to say before they’d been interrupted. His strange hesitation and awkwardness had vanished the instant Rowena had appeared. It was all very curious.

  “Might I prevail upon you for a moment, Rowena?” she heard Sorin ask, jerking her attention back to the present.

  “Of course,” answered Rowena.

  “I will be going to Rundell & Bridge’s in a fortnight or so to commission a special birthday gift for my mother. I would very much like to take Ellie—and you, if your schedules permit—along to assist with making a selection. I know you ladies have likely made your plans far in advance and I don’t wish to interfere. It would require only an hour or two of your time.”

  “I’m sure we can find the time,” said Rowena. “Come, Eleanor. We’ll be late for luncheon if we don’t leave now, and we needs must disentangle Charles.” She dipped a curtsy, which he returned with a short bow. “Don’t forget to come to Holbrook for dinner tomorrow. I’m having Cook prepare your favorite.”

  “I look forward to it,” he replied, a smile in his hazel eyes. “Until then, I bid you both good day.”

  “That was a bit…irregular,” murmured Rowena as he disappeared into the crowd.

  “Oh? How so?”

  There was a long pause, during which two pink spots appeared on Rowena’s cheeks. “Eleanor, I don’t know how to say this delicately.”

  Puzzled, she frowned. “You need never mince words with me.”

  “Very well, I shall speak plainly. We are going to London soon. While there, you must not allow yourself to be as familiar with Lord Wincanton as you’ve been here—at least not in public—lest others make certain…assumptions about your relationship that are untrue. We know him as a sort of extended family member, but others don’t.”

  Eleanor’s scalp prickled with shock. “If I’ve behaved inappropriately, then I can only apologize and ask you to tell me in what way I have erred.”

  “You have not,” assured Rowena. “I just wish you to be mindful of appearances, that is all. I don’t want the two of you becoming the subject of malicious gossip. He has suffered enough for one lifetime.”

  Her words felt like a slap. Had Sorin indeed told her cousin of her gross impropriety all those years ago? “I would never do anything to cause him discomfort. If you object to my accompanying him to see the jeweler, then—”

  “I have no objection whatsoever,” interrupted Rowena. “All I wish is that you keep in mind how things might appear to those outside our intimate little circle. London, as you know, is an entirely different world than the one to which we are accustomed out here in the countryside. I fear we’ll have enough to worry about this Season without any disparaging whispers concerning you.” Her gaze flew to Charles and company, which Eleanor noticed now included Caroline.

  “That’s another thing I’ve been meaning to discuss with you,” said Rowena, her tone taking on an edge. “I know Caroline is your friend, but I hope we do not come to regret allowing her to accompany us.”

  “I hope not, too,” Eleanor muttered without thinking. She shrank under Rowena’s sudden, sharp gaze. “Do not mistake me—I adore her, but I’m well aware of her impulsive nature.”

  “Then I shall prevail upon you to at all times adjure her to curb her impetuosity. As she is to be under our sponsorship, her behavior will reflect directly upon us. I should greatly dislike having to inform her family of any unfortunate circumstances resulting from misconduct on her part while she is in our care.”

  “Of course,” Eleanor replied soothingly. “But I beg you not to think too harshly of her. She is simply…gregarious. I’m certain she comprehends the level of decorum expected of her.”

  “I pray so, too, for all our sakes. But come, we must leave now or the meal will be overcooked.”

  Yarborough and his mother were still attempting to ingratiate themselves with Charles when they joined the party, and Eleanor couldn’t help but notice the sly wink her old nemesis gave her as he bowed. She marked also that Lady Yarborough’s curtsy to Rowena was little more than cursory, though Rowena was a duchess and she the mere widow of a baronet. Their familiarity was presumptuous and more than a little insulting. Then again, perhaps she was being overly sensitive in the aftermath of Rowena’s little chat with her. Still, she liked it not. It smacked of arrogant assumptions concerning their relationship with her family.

  “Husband, I do hate to intrude, but we must away home,” said Rowena, taking Charles’s arm.

  “Yes, of course,” he replied, absently patting her hand. “Sir Yarborough and I were just discussing the state of the towns between here and London. According to him, there has been a good deal of improvement in the town of Hindon since we last passed through it. There is a new inn there, now, the Ellington Arms. I was thinking we might stop there to overnight rather than going on to Chilmark. It would shorten that leg of the journey a bit and allow the horses a longer rest.”

  “Whatever you desire, my dear,” said Rowena mildly. “But come, already the day grows long and there is much yet to accomplish before it is done.” She cast him a beguiling smile, and his eyes brightened.

  Eleanor hid a smile of her own as her cousin bid the Yarboroughs a hasty farewell. If ever she were to attempt to ensnare a man, Rowena’s example was surely the one to follow. Her methods were subtle and elegant. Unlike Caroline, who was even now casting coy glances back over her shoulder at Yarborough as if she’d never talked of bagging Sorin an hour before.

  To be fair, she’d known her friend would be far too shrewd to put all of her eggs in one basket. Thanks to a terribly botched courtship during her debut, Caroline had come up short of beaux these last two years. This being her third—and likely final—Season out, Eleanor had no doubt she’d get down to business and ensnare several serious suitors before all was said and done. Her chances were improved by the fact that only four “prize purses”—three, Eleanor corrected, removing herself from the equation—would be out this year. Those who hadn’t been lucky enough to catch an heiress last Season would perhaps be more amenable to the
idea of marrying a young lady of more modest means.

  “I think Sir Yarborough is quite a nice gentleman,” reflected Caroline, confirming Eleanor’s suspicions as she settled into her seat. “I found his mother most agreeable. She extended an invitation for me to join her for tea while in London. Her son is of an enjoyable temperament as well. Nothing at all like the mean little boy you described to me this morning.”

  “I should hope not,” Eleanor snapped, forgetting her intent to remain impassive. “I would rather hope the years have matured him beyond feeling a need to push people down in the mud.”

  Charles frowned. “I had no idea he’d done such a thing, Eleanor. Had I known, I can assure you I would have been less willing to have them join our party. No man should ever raise his hand to a lady.”

  “Indeed,” agreed Rowena. “Such an act, though committed in his youth, shows a serious lack of breeding. You should both be very cautious in your dealings with him.”

  “We were only children,” Eleanor sighed, though she was loath to take Yarborough’s side.

  “Did you perhaps…provoke him in any way?” asked Caroline, her tone hopeful.

  “No,” she answered flatly, her temper growing shorter by the second. “He was a bit of a bully to everyone, if you want to know. He enjoyed antagonizing people, in general. I was but one of many. Surely he is a different person now.”

  “Boys are betimes unruly and forgetful of their manners,” said Charles with a noncommittal shrug. “Perhaps he has changed, at that.”

  Rowena’s lips pursed. “I’m not so certain. The stripes don’t wash off a tiger when it takes a bath, and neither do they fade with age. Regardless, it is too late now to alter our plans. The Yarboroughs will be joining us on the road to London, and we shall likely be obliged to entertain them once or twice while there, being that they are acquaintances from the same county.”

  Wonderful. Eleanor kept a neutral face, but inside she was already thinking of ways to get out of it. Being “indisposed” would work only once. As for the overly-eager Caroline, she would indeed do well to have a care with the Yarboroughs. Very likely, Lady Yarborough’s invitation to tea was merely a means of gathering information on how best to cast the net for the bigger fish.

  She shook herself. Enough of this bitterness and old bile! There were more important things to think about, like tomorrow and Sorin’s visit.

  Almost as if she’d read her mind, Rowena spoke his name. “Oh, Lord Wincanton will indeed be joining us for dinner tomorrow, Charles. He sends his regrets for not having been to see you again sooner. He has been much occupied with matters at home.”

  Charles’s brooding expression lifted into a smile of delight. “Ah! Excellent, excellent! I cannot begin to tell you how glad I am that he’s returned to us. Like a brother to me, really. Better than a brother, actually—a brother would be hankering after m’title,” he added with a chuckle.

  Beside her, Eleanor heard Caroline snicker softly. The gleeful, calculating look on her friend’s face told her there would be trouble from that quarter tomorrow.

  After a slightly overcooked luncheon, she went to her room to have a look through her wardrobe. The new gowns Rowena had ordered for her were all being sent directly to their London residence, but there were a few from last year that Sorin hadn’t yet seen. Her fingers lingered over the deep-aqua silk. It would do nicely—the cut emphasized her maturity. Holding it up against herself, she stood before the mirror.

  I’ll look anything but childish in this. And since silk is so difficult to get these days, I’ll stand out. The thought brought her up short, and she frowned at her reflection. Stand out for whom?

  The answer was plain, but the reason behind it was all muddled and confused. She wanted her old friend to acknowledge her as an adult, of course, to see her as an equal. But her mind would not let it rest there. Is that the only reason? Why should his opinion matter to me so much?

  Eleanor’s middle tightened for a moment before logic asserted itself. Because if he sees me as an adult, so will my cousin. Maybe then Charles will stop all this nonsense about marrying me off.

  The tension in her midsection eased. Laughing at herself, she hung the gown back in the wardrobe and dismissed her foolish worries.

  Dismounting almost before his horse had come to a full stop, Sorin handed the reins over to a lad and climbed the familiar steps of Holbrook. The anticipation of seeing Eleanor again had been almost more than he could stand. Upon entering, he handed his hat and coat to the waiting servant.

  “You’re early.”

  Looking up, he saw Caroline coming down the stairs. “My apologies,” he said with a short bow.

  “Oh, there is no need to apologize,” she said with a sultry smile. “You are practically one of the family here.”

  “I’m a very fortunate man when it comes to my friends.”

  Turning to the servant, the girl dismissed him. “I’ll see to our guest. You can go.”

  “I presume everyone else is already in the drawing room?” Sorin asked as the man disappeared.

  Caroline shook her head so that her curls bounced, and then proceeded to narrow the gap between them. “Eleanor is still upstairs making ready. I don’t know the whereabouts of Lord and Lady Ashford.” She drifted a bit closer, far more so than was proper. “But I would be happy to accompany you to the drawing room to await them.”

  The look in her eyes was positively predatory. He resisted an urge to back away. “Ah. Perhaps I’d better wait h—”

  “Lord Wincanton,” said a blessedly familiar voice from above. “How good of you to join us this evening.”

  For a moment Sorin nearly forgot how to breathe. A vision in swirls of starlight and sea foam, Eleanor glided down the stairs like a goddess descending from the clouds. Her caramel hair was swept up in a crown of curls with wisps about her temples and forehead, and her creamy skin glowed in the candlelight. The curve of her cheek lifted in a soft, welcoming smile as she gazed down at him.

  The thought of coming home to such a sight every day was almost enough to make him drop knee on the spot. Instead he bowed deeply. “Lady Eleanor, a pleasure as always.”

  Her returning curtsy was elegant perfection. “The pleasure is ours.” As she moved to take his arm, her friend had no choice but to defer and step aside, which she did with ill-concealed rancor.

  The girl was instantly forgotten as Eleanor drew near. The gown she wore—or rather what it revealed—turned his mouth into a veritable desert. Its wide neckline revealed an expanse of décolletage to tempt the most hardened misogynist, which he was most definitely not. The shallow bodice was gathered tightly beneath her breasts by a band of silver mesh from which fell layers of diaphanous aqua silk embroidered with silver flowers and tiny pearls. Each step she took revealed a tempting suggestion of shapely legs and hips.

  God help me… Hers was the lush form of a woman built for carnal pleasures, a fact that had heretofore been for the most part concealed by lace fichus and high necklines. “I’m afraid I’ve arrived a bit early,” he said, praying no one noticed the sudden, urgent stirring in his breeches. “Please accept my apologies for any inconvenience.”

  “I should never be so unwelcoming as to chastise you for gracing us with your presence a few minutes ahead of schedule. Come. Charles and Rowena will join us in a moment or two. Caroline?” she inquired over her shoulder as they turned away.

  “I’m coming,” muttered her sulky friend.

  Sorin hid a smile. He really couldn’t say he felt sorry for the girl. Eleanor’s warning about her mercenary designs was certainly no lie, and he sincerely hoped her attentions would be directed elsewhere once they were in London. The fewer distractions he had to deal with, the better.

  “I hope you brought your appetite with you,” said Eleanor with a mischievous glance that made his mouth go dry again. “Cook has been busy since before dawn preparing a feast worthy of the king himself, and I’ve been told there is to be entertainment afterward.”<
br />
  “I’ll be spoiled by such lavish treatment,” he said, laughing. “But in truth, I need no entertainment save that of conversation with good friends.” He silently cursed himself for using the “f” word. The last thing he wanted was her thinking of him as a friend, damn it all! But it was too late now.

  “You are too kind,” she replied. “Somerset must seem interminably dull compared to the sights you’ve seen in your travels.”

  “On the contrary. I take great interest in the goings-on here. I always have.” He smiled at her dubious look. “I never wanted to leave, you know. By the time I returned to England’s shores, my longing for home was a sickness. I was never so happy as when I rounded the turn to see Holly Hall awaiting me with her green lawns and solid walls. For me, the beauty of home far outstrips that of any other place on earth.”

  “Well, you are here now and you are most welcome indeed,” said Eleanor, her voice suspiciously thick.

  “I suppose absence does make the heart grow fond,” said Caroline from behind, her voice tinged with sarcasm.

  The tender moment was gone. “Indeed it does, Miss Caroline,” he tossed back, trying not to sound irritated.

  “Such sentiments will likely fade after you’ve been home awhile,” the girl continued with an exaggerated sigh. “I’ve heard it said that anyone who has been away for more than a year can never get the wanderlust out of their blood.”

  “I’m afraid I must disagree,” Sorin replied. “The call of home is stronger than any wanderlust. I’ve traveled the world, and never once did its pull on my heart diminish.” That much was true, though it was more than Holly Hall he’d yearned to see.

  As if answering his private thoughts, Eleanor murmured, “Travel abroad is all good and well, but I should never wish to be forever parted from all that is familiar. My heart of hearts longs to remain here, among those dearest to me.”

  His heart leaped as her wistful gaze settled on him.