Lord Noble (Lords Of Night Street Book 4)

by Wendy Vella

  Beth made herself stop and look up at him. The sun bounced off his black hair, as he had yet to replace his hat, which he carried under one arm. His face was calm and assured, eyes now steady. Had she not seen the panic in them the night he saw Harriet Hyndmarsh, she wouldn’t have believed him capable of such an emotion. To be so assured must be a wonderful thing. Beth tried to appear so, when inside sometimes she was the opposite.

  Now was one of those times.

  “Go away, Leo. My life is no concern of yours. If I need help, I have a strong, capable cousin to assist me.”

  His eyes caught and held hers again, and Beth could do nothing to break the contact. She was becoming far too aware of this man. It had to stop, she must put distance between them, as contact with her could put him in danger.

  “Yes, there is no doubting that, but he doesn’t think anything is wrong, so obviously he is not helping you.”

  “Tell me you did not question him about your ridiculous and misguided beliefs?”

  “I did not, but only because I wish for you to explain them to me first.”

  “I have no idea what it is you are speaking of, nor do I wish to discuss it further.”

  She didn’t trip this time, and even managed to walk as if she had not a care in the world.

  “You just made a noise like someone moaning in pain.”

  “I did not.” She really must stop doing that.

  Beth made the mistake of looking over her shoulder at the church.

  “God, I’m a fool,” he said slowly. “You were there to drop something off, and I did not realize it until now.”

  Before she could stop him, Leo had turned and was running back to the church.

  “Stop!” She tried to call him back, but he kept running, and Beth could do nothing but follow. She reached the church well behind Leo, and threw open the door. He was walking down the pews, running his hands under each.

  “What are you doing, you foolish man?”

  Ignoring her, he moved closer to where she had put the money.

  “Leo, please!” Beth held her breath as he reached the pew she’d placed the money under. Her relief was acute when he moved on to the next. Exhaling slowly, she realized the blackmailer had been already. While she was pleased about that, she was not pleased that he had to have seen her with Leo, or that he could have confronted her had she still been alone.

  “This is ridiculous. Good day, my lord, I am leaving.” Beth walked out the door, relieved her secret was still safe. She made it down the steps and was soon walking along the street with her heart settling back inside her chest. Was he near?

  “Miss Whitlow! La, what brings you here alone at this hour?”

  Lady Blanchly’s open carriage pulled to a halt on the street beside where Beth now walked. Seated beside her was Lady Hyndmarsh, looking pretty in pale blue, her porcelain skin glowing in the morning light.

  “Lady Blanchly, Lady Hyndmarsh.” Beth executed the perfect curtsey, which took up a few more seconds of her time while she attempted to come up with a suitable reason as to why she was here, alone.

  “I see no one accompanying you, Miss Whitlow. Surely you have not ventured out alone?”

  “My maid is following, but I am quite old enough to do so, should I wish it, Lady Blanchly,” Beth said in what she liked to term her social voice. It was really a testament to her ability to present just the right facade at just the right moment, that she was able to then smile and offer a small laugh. “I am, after all, well past the age of worrying about such things.” She wasn’t, but she was not giving these women the satisfaction of seeing her off-balance.

  “But your fiancé,” Harriet said with a particularly vile smile on her bow-shaped lips. “Surely he has no wish for you to do so?”

  “Oh, my darling fiancé cares not a wit. You see, ours is a love that trusts. We have complete faith in each other, and are almost of one mind.” Beth clasped her hands to her breast, which may have been ladling it on a bit thick, but suddenly she wanted to do so. Harriet was not impressed, if her scowl was any indication. “Love,” Beth sighed. “It is surely a wondrous thing.”

  The woman’s mouth puckered into a tiny circle that made her look silly, and made Beth feel marginally better. After all, this was the woman Leo loved, and why that annoyed her she had no idea, as she wanted no part of him... did she?

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Leo searched the last few pews in the church, then looked around, but had no idea what he was actually looking for. He was convinced Beth had left something in here, and his instinct had been to search the entire church thoroughly, and yet if he did that she would get away without him questioning her further.

  Frustrated, he left the church intent on grabbing her and shaking some sense into her if he must. His eyes went to the park, but she was not there, so he searched the street and found Beth standing beside a carriage, back straight, hands clenched at her sides, which indicated she was no happier than he that the carriage held Lady Blanchly, one of society’s biggest gossips, and the evil breaker of hearts. Looking at Harriet’s perfect features, Leo waited for the pain, but it didn’t come. Looking at Beth, however, he definitely felt something, which he found interesting. Unsettling, yes, but also interesting.

  “Our love is truly a wondrous thing, Lady Hyndmarsh. It transcends the simple terms of flowery prose often used, and we communicate with just a look or a smile.”

  Leo swallowed his snort at Beth’s words.

  “Indeed it is, my sweet. Wondrous in no way covers the joy I feel upon rising each and every day with the knowledge that shortly you, my love, my life, will be mine.”

  “Lord Vereton.” Harriet gave him a simpering smile that made his teeth snap together. How had he allowed himself to be so taken in by this woman?

  “Lady Blanchly, Lady Hyndmarsh.” He bowed, and enjoyed the tightening of Harriet’s lips as she noted he’d addressed her second, even though hers was the higher rank.

  “My lord, we were just discussing the fact that Miss Whitlow was out here alone,” Harriet said with a smile on her face that did not reach her eyes.

  Leo made a show of looking around him. “Her maid is there, and as I was a few feet away conversing with an acquaintance, she was never alone. But of course your concern is heartwarming, my dear Lady Hyndmarsh.”

  Beth made a choking sound, and he rubbed his hand up her spine, which made it straighten more, almost an impossible feat, he would have thought.

  “Are you all right, my love?”

  “Quite... thank you.”

  “You are very forward in your endearments in a public setting, Lord Vereton,” Lady Blanchly said with a sniff.

  Leo smiled, and took Beth’s hand in his, kissing her knuckles. He then placed it on his arm.

  “When you finally find love, my lady, you want to let everyone share in your happiness.”

  Beth made a gagging sound this time, but the ladies did not hear.

  “My love for this woman consumes me,” he continued, now enjoying himself hugely. Worry still nagged at him over what Beth was up to, but he’d find out, even if he had to watch her every move. For now he was quite happy to make her extremely uncomfortable. “She has completed me,” he said, placing a hand on his chest. “And I believe I have completed her, is that not so, my sweet Miss Whitlow?”

  She looked up at him, and although her lips curved upward, her eyes shot sparks. Leo loved it.

  “Oh, my dear Lord Vereton, your words are too much.” She rummaged about in her reticule and found a handkerchief, which she then dabbed at her eyes. Her fingers pinched his skin through his sleeve... hard.

  “Well, we cannot stand here all day,” Harriet said, shooting Beth and him a final glare. “Good day.”

  They watched the carriage until it had left their sight, and Leo waited for Beth to unleash a torrent of anger on him. He was not disappointed.

  “What did you think you were doing!”

  “Enforcing the belief that we are to be m
arried for love, my sweet, and as I was simply following your lead I fail to see how you can censure me. After all, our love transcends the simple terms of flowery prose.”

  Even angry she was beautiful, Leo thought. Her eyes were narrowed, and focused on him. A soft band of pink rode high on her cheekbones, and those long lashes fluttered over dark blue eyes, that in this light had a touch of gray around the iris of the left one. Her hands were now on her trim hips, and if she could have done him bodily harm, he thought she would. Looking at all that fire and beauty made him want to kiss her, which of course he would not do as he wasn’t sure he’d walk away unscathed in her current mood.

  “If you ever want a chance to have that woman at your side, you just ruined it.”

  “Why would you believe I wish to be with her?” Leo was unsure where this conversation was heading, but was sure he would not like it.

  “Because you once loved her, and while you have vowed you no longer do so, I am not certain you speak the truth.”

  Leo shook his head. Surely she was not serious?

  “In fact, I believe I will tell Lady Hyndmarsh that you could not wed me as you still love her.”

  He shuddered. “I never want that woman close to me again, as I have already told you, so you can stop whatever this foolishness is at once. Good Lord, do you really wish me to have a life with such a demanding woman?”

  “Pffft.” Beth waved a hand at him. “How temperamental men are, when a few days ago you were distraught to see her again... so broken, I may add, that you grabbed the nearest woman, who unfortunately happened to be me, and declared our betrothal.”

  She had him there.

  “Yes, it was not one of my finer moments, however clarity soon returned, and I realized the woman was all you believed her to be.”

  “How fickle you are, my lord. To carry her in your heart for six years, and suddenly you no longer care.”

  Her chin was elevated and she was giving him a haughty glare, and he knew then exactly what she was about. Beth was attempting to throw him off the scent. She thought by bringing up Harriet, she could distract him from the church and his belief she was being blackmailed. How wrong she was.

  “Well, I am not about to convince you here in the middle of the street, where anyone could chance upon us, my dear Miss Whitlow. However, I know where we can have some privacy.” Leo took her arm.

  “Let me go. I have no wish for privacy with you!”

  She tried to fight him, and stay where she was, but Leo simply started walking, so she was forced to go with him, or land on her face.

  “I have a maid.”

  “Congratulations.”

  “Who is awaiting me!”

  Leo looked behind him, and found the woman lurking.

  “You may head home now, your mistress is safe with me.”

  “Very well, my lord.” The maid bobbed a curtsey, sent him another look, then walked away.

  “You have no right to dismiss my maid!”

  Beth turned, no doubt to stop the maid from leaving, but Leo simply turned her back and clamped a hand over her mouth until the maid was out of reach.

  “Wh-what are you doing?”

  “Gagging you, and it is thoroughly effective. I shall have to remember the technique.”

  Her mouth opened, and then closed again. Leo thought the silence would only be temporary.

  “You cannot simply dismiss my maid, and... and abduct me.”

  “Hardly that, and besides, I did not think you wished to discuss whatever that was back there in the church with her overhearing us.”

  “There is nothing to discuss.”

  “Au contraire,” he drawled.

  They walked while she hissed vile threats at him, until he reached his favorite tea shop.

  “In you go.”

  “I don’t want to have tea with you!”

  “Come now, you cannot speak to your true love in such a way,” Leo reached over her shoulder and opened the door. He then nudged her through, and again she had no option but to concede.

  “Good day, my lord.”

  He nodded to the proprietress.

  “What can I get you?”

  “Tea for two please, Mrs. Lamb,” he said, pulling out a chair, and lowering Beth into it, using a hand on her shoulder to force her onto the seat. It was like folding a piece of ten-day-old bread. “Plus three Banbury cakes, and two cinnamon biscuits, please.”

  “We cannot eat all that!”

  “I can,” he said, taking the seat opposite, but ready to regain his feet should she attempt to flee.

  They sat in silence for a few minutes, while Leo let her spleen cool. He came here often, because it was a small tea shop that was not usually busy, and it served the best cinnamon biscuits in London. He was not above sending a footman to collect a dozen upon occasion. Looking around him, he noted four other people seated, and no one he recognized. Excellent, they could converse without anyone overhearing.

  “Now, I want you to tell me what is going on with you, and do not lie, or try and fob me off with this business about me still loving the evil breaker of hearts, as you are not terribly good at it.”

  “No.” She had her arms folded like a child, and Leo couldn’t help it, he laughed.

  “Do not laugh at me!”

  “I always thought of you as the most contained, composed person I knew. It turns out I was wrong. In fact, you have a temper, and are not the cool, collected woman society sees. I like it.”

  The smile fell from Leo’s face as the first tear fell.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Beth excessively disliked weeping, but if she did cry, it was definitely not in public. Her mother had not tolerated displays of emotion, thus her only child had learned to keep her emotions to herself.

  “Beth.”

  Her name sounded torn from Leo, as if he actually felt pain at the sight of her tears. Of course this could not be true; they were not people who felt anything for each other.

  “Talk to me... please.”

  His hand covered the one she had not realized was clenched in a fist on the table. Beth focused on that large hand. Gloveless. His knuckles were so much bigger than hers, and the fingers longer; in fact, he could hold both her hands with ease. A long scar ran down his thumb, stopping at the wrist. It was old, and the skin was white now, but the thickness of that line told her it had hurt desperately when it was done. She traced a gloved finger down it before she realized what she was about.

  “Wh-what happened?”

  “I was in a fight with a French solider.”

  Beth looked at him, and felt herself steady as she noted the calm look in his eyes. She saw no pity, and for that she was grateful.

  “Was it terrifying?”

  He didn’t try to misunderstand. Instead, his fingers tightened over hers.

  “Yes, extremely so.”

  She and others often forgot what the men who had fought for their country endured. Leo was always the noble Lord Vereton. Polished and sophisticated, for the most. He, Nick, and their friends never showed signs of what they’d endured during their fighting days, but Beth wondered if they still bore the scars.

  “I’m sorry for what you and the other men who fought for their country suffered.”

  “Thank you.” The solemnly spoken words told her he was indeed grateful for the acknowledgement.

  They broke contact when the tea arrived, and Beth took her cup and sipped, enjoying the warmth. It was not cold out, but she felt in need of fortifying. Her world had crumpled around her ankles; there was no other way to describe it. It had been muddling along, as it always had, until Leo decided on the fake betrothal, and then she’d received the first blackmail letter, and now... well, now she felt set adrift in a sea of uncertainty and fear. Everything she had fought hard to put behind her was now back in the forefront of her mind—her father’s death, and the pain of what had happened preceding that.

  Beth looked down at the cake on her plate, and saw she’d broken
it into crumbs.

  “Talk to me, damn you!”

  The words were deep and harsh and had Beth lifting her head.

  “I have nothing to tell.” She sipped her tea and tried to keep what she was feeling from her eyes. She had come up with a plan to end their betrothal after the carriage carrying Harriet Hyndmarsh had rolled away. She’d decided to pursue the fact that he wanted to wed Harriet and not her, but to do that he must break from her. He had denied still loving the woman as they walked here, but she still had to try.

  “I think we should call off the engagement, Leo. That business today, with Harriet, your true love, will only add to the speculation ours is a love match, when it could not be further from the truth,” Beth said, refusing to discuss the matter of blackmail. That frustrated him, because his eyes narrowed.

  “I will not refute the love claim—we both know it is not the truth, as I have explained multiple times. However, you gave me until the end of the season to end this betrothal, so that will be when we call it off.”

  “I concede that perhaps Harriet is not your true love. But what if you find another, and being betrothed to me does not allow you to pursue her?”

  “You’re searching for an excuse, Beth, but it will not work. We are staying betrothed.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. You gave me your word, and besides, I am going to stay very close to you now.”

  “What? Why?” Beth felt panic slither through her, and the irrational need to get to her feet and run.

  “Because, my sweet, something is very wrong with you, and until I know what, I will be your shadow.”

  “Leo, please, this is silly. If I need help I will go to Nick.”

  “Excellent. I shall talk with him today, and have him call round to discuss this matter with you.”

  “No!” The word came out with far more force than necessary.

  “Because you have no wish to embroil him in this... whatever the hell this is.”

  “Don’t speak that way in front of me.”

  “Then tell me the truth.”

  Beth wiped her hands, and got to her feet. “Good day to you, my lord.”