The Widow's Scandalous Affair

by Lucy Ashford

  Her voice faded as Serena entered the room. ‘Like Raphael Lefevre,’ Joanna completed her sentence softly. ‘Hello, Serena.’

  Serena closed the door behind her. ‘Joanna. And George. How very pleasant.’

  George nodded to her brusquely. ‘Serena,’ he began, ‘Joanna is suggesting I should join the company of wastrels and gamblers, like Lefevre—that odious man!’

  Once more Serena’s heart stopped, though already Joanna was saying mischievously, ‘Yes, but, George, some of us ladies do find the Marquis quite entertaining, you know. Don’t they, Serena?’ She’d drawn close to touch Serena’s hand. ‘Darling, you left your gloves at my house this afternoon, so I thought I’d call round with them. Oh, and Mary asked me to bring you this copy of the school’s accounts also. What a pleasant surprise to find dear George here! He has some family business to discuss with you, he says.’

  Family business. Serena was able to breathe again. So George didn’t know yet about last night. It was only a temporary reprieve, but that was something.

  ‘I came,’ George was saying stiffly, ‘because I wished to consult with you, Serena, concerning some plans for the estate in Yorkshire. But perhaps now is not the time. Such matters may be a little dreary for you, as Joanna suggests.’

  ‘No, George!’ Serena was dismayed. ‘Dreary, never! You know how I love the Yorkshire house!’

  ‘Another time, maybe.’ He inspected his pocket watch. ‘I have an appointment shortly. And since you have company, I’ll take my leave.’

  With his departure he took Serena’s last hope of deflecting the curiosity of Joanna, who was watching her now with speculative eyes. ‘I thought I’d better get rid of him,’ Joanna said, all traces of levity gone. ‘Because, Serena, you look quite fatigued, my dear. Now, sit down and tell me. What is going on between you and Raphael Lefevre? You detest the man!’

  Serena sank into one of the garish pink and green sofas with which George had furnished the room and shook her head. ‘Joanna, I can’t explain everything to you. Not yet. But I find that I may have to spend a certain amount of time with the Marquis. I may even have to pretend that I like him.’

  ‘Oh, my goodness!’ Joanna’s hand went to her mouth. ‘Serena, he’s not—forcing you in any way, is he?’

  ‘Not in the slightest,’ Serena said swiftly. ‘This is all for outward appearance only. There is really nothing to be alarmed about.’

  ‘No?’ Joanna was watching her carefully. ‘I’m not going to press and pry. But what’s brought this on?’

  Serena pressed her hands together in a gesture of appeal. ‘You say you trust me, so please trust me now when I say that this is something I simply must endure for a brief while. You can help me by accepting it—and making others accept it.’

  ‘But you and the Marquis together? Society will be bursting with the news!’

  ‘Do you think I don’t realise it?’ Serena’s voice held a note of despair.

  Joanna looked thoughtful. ‘Now, I know you dislike Lefevre strongly, but I must say he rather intrigues me. Take, for instance, all the rumours of his partying and gambling. Indeed, there’s no denying he likes his forays with his friends into, shall we say, the murkier corners of London. But his very best friend is Sir Dominic Southern, who is a paragon, is he not? The man lives with his sister Amelia out in Kensington—the dullest of places! Even George could find no fault with Sir Dominic. And what misdeeds has Lefevre actually committed? Have you ever seen him drunk? How many mistresses does he keep here in London? I don’t know of any at all. The stories run wild and he does nothing to stop them, but sometimes I wonder if he’s just putting on an act.’

  Serena was incredulous. ‘An act?’

  ‘Oh, you might laugh, but I tell you, I think he’s just pretending to be a villain. Now I’m not going to press you any more. I’ll accept for the time being that whatever you’ve arranged with Lefevre is very necessary to you. But in your own interests, dear Serena, you must find a reason that explains to everyone why you’ve had this sudden change of heart about the man. Do you see?’

  Serena nodded slowly. ‘I do see.’

  Joanna was rising now and reaching for her bonnet—which was, as ever, a rather spectacular creation with a wide brim and many ribbons. ‘I must be on my way, darling. I have an appointment with Madame Lavergne in Bond Street—she’s making me two new silk gowns which are absolutely delightful! But I just had to call in, to see that you’re all right. Now, remember what I said. Lefevre is putting on an act, so you must, too. Think of a good reason for your revised opinion of the man and then, my goodness, you must enjoy yourself!’

  Joanna kissed her and left. Serena, feeling rather numb, went to pick up the copy of the school accounts that Joanna had left for her. The Marquis. How on earth was she to explain her change of heart concerning the Marquis? She leafed through the accounts listlessly.

  And it was then that she suddenly had a rather wonderful idea.

  * * *

  When Raphael arrived at Serena’s house the next afternoon he came straight from meeting Dominic for lunch at a sedate club in Piccadilly. ‘Could we go to the library, perhaps?’ he’d suggested to Dominic after they’d eaten. ‘So we can have a little more privacy?’

  Dominic, looking wary, had picked up his glass of port and led the way to two secluded armchairs in that almost empty room. ‘Well?’ he said as he seated himself. ‘What trouble are you in this time, Raphael? I’ve warned you before. You make enemies rather too easily.’

  ‘I also have good friends, I trust.’ Raphael looked straight at him. ‘Not for the first time, I need your help.’

  Dominic was instantly serious. ‘You’ve had more news?’

  ‘Nothing definite, but I may be on to something. Jacques is excellent at ferreting out information—but you, mon ami, are in daily contact with a completely different level of society. You’re a Member of Parliament, so you have access to government records. Can you obtain for me a list of London businessmen who keep up a regular trade at the Channel ports?’

  ‘I’ll make enquiries, of course. But the Channel ports! Why?’

  ‘Early days, my friend,’ said Raphael. He downed the last of his port. ‘Early days—but I’d be grateful for your help. As ever.’

  * * *

  It was half past two by the time he reached Curzon Street and knocked on the door. He knew Lady Serena had several admirers and found himself wondering if they all received the same chilly treatment from her butler. Certainly it was with an air of distinct disapproval that Grinling led Raphael to Her Ladyship’s private study on the first floor.

  ‘A visitor, ma’am,’ he announced. ‘The Most Honourable the Marquis of Montpellier.’ He spoke as if he was announcing that the milk for her tea had gone sour.

  Lady Serena took her time in turning around, thus giving Raphael several moments in which to admire the back of her rather striking day gown of pink taffeta, with its ruff of cream lace that emphasised the elegant curve of her neck. When she eventually faced him he saw she was wearing spectacles, which gave her a charmingly earnest look. Interesting.

  After a moment, though, she took them off and said, somewhat wonderingly, ‘Why, Monsieur Lefevre. This is a surprise! What brings you here, I wonder?’

  Grinling had left, silently shutting the door behind him. Raphael said, ‘Madame. I promised you I would call. Yesterday, you remember?’

  ‘Slipped my mind,’ she murmured. ‘Slipped my mind.’

  Now that he found hard to believe, but he strolled calmly towards her desk. ‘You look busy. What with, I wonder?’

  ‘I’m writing letters...’ Suddenly she clapped her hand to her forehead. ‘But of course! You’ve come because we made an arrangement to be seen together! I’d almost forgotten. Had you?’

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘No, I rather think I had not.’ Frankly, he’d been expecting to be met with
anger or maybe a frosty silence. But this? Whatever was she rambling on about?

  He realised she was gesturing airily towards a rather startling chair of bright yellow satin with gilded legs. ‘My brother George furnished the house for me,’ she explained, as if sensing his surprise. ‘So kind of him, don’t you think? Sit down and make yourself at home. Now, I remember you said, Monsieur Lefevre, that we had to spend some time with one another—four weeks, I think you suggested. For our mutual advantage.’

  She wrinkled her nose a little, as if in slight puzzlement. And he wondered—what the hell had happened to her overnight? Had her wits become addled? Had she completely forgotten about Silas Mort and his blackmail threat? Had she forgotten that kiss?

  If so, that was a first among the ladies with whom he’d been acquainted. He found that he was almost amused. He said, ‘For our mutual advantage indeed. On your part, to keep secret the somewhat regrettable nature of your husband’s death in battle. On my part—to stop you, my lady, from being rather a thorn in my side.’

  ‘Oh, my! A thorn in your side, Monsieur le Marquis?’ She laughed merrily. ‘How very quaint!’ She leaned forward a little. ‘But, yes, it’s all coming back to me now. Forgive me, but all these letters, these invitations—’ she waved at the heap of papers on her desk ‘—they distracted me. Though I do recall thinking, after our ride in the Park yesterday, that people are going to find it a little peculiar—are they not?—if you and I suddenly appear to be the best of friends, when we’ve been rather at odds with one another up till now.’

  ‘Stranger things have happened, Lady Serena. But, yes. Some people will be taken by surprise.’

  She wagged a finger. ‘But they won’t be so very surprised,’ she said, ‘if you and I appear to have become allies in a common cause. Have become...united, so to speak.’

  ‘United?’ The wicked side of his mind roved.

  ‘Yes, indeed! Wouldn’t our sudden reconciliation appear more reasonable if you and I, Monsieur Lefevre, had apparently resolved our differences because—how can I put this?—because we’d found an area of mutual interest?’

  Her breasts looked remarkably pretty beneath the lace of her fichu... Stop it. Roving again. He said mildly, ‘And that “area of interest” is?’

  ‘You may or may not know that I am involved in a charity.’

  Ah. ‘I’ve heard something to that effect, indeed,’ he said.

  ‘Good.’ She nodded her satisfaction. ‘Yes, my friends and I support a school in Spitalfields for the children of the poor. We fund a large proportion of the scheme, but we also receive generous gifts from all quarters. From local churches and businessmen, from peers of the realm and quite a few of our politicians too.’

  He thought he could see where this was going. ‘Are you suggesting I join their number? But what about my reputation, madame? Am I really a fit person to be associated with such a worthy cause as your school?’

  She waved a jewelled hand in the air. ‘Oh, it’s not your moral advice we require, Monsieur Lefevre, but your money! Your support of our cause will doubtless surprise your friends, but in my opinion it gives an undeniable reason why I’ve temporarily renounced my single status and have decided to—to...’

  For the first time she looked lost for words. He helped her out. ‘To shock the ton by associating with me, Lady Serena?’

  ‘Well—’ and she gave a small shrug ‘—if you care to put it like that, yes. So what do you think of my plan?’

  Raphael had to admit it was a neat trick of hers, to turn the tables on him and put him in a good light for once. It did make sense. It would explain to the ton why the two of them—hitherto such enemies—were suddenly appearing together with their differences apparently forgotten. And a hefty donation to her charity would be good value at twice the cost, if it meant that her intrusive probing into his past came to an end.

  Though he’d rather have silenced her in other ways, he thought suddenly. She was gazing up at him with those innocent-looking blue-green eyes, but he remembered—oh, he remembered—how lushly inviting her lips had been during that kiss. How her body had moulded to his, almost as if it guessed what pleasure could lie in store. For both of them...

  He felt desire pulsing at his loins. Stop that. Forbidden territory, absolutely—besides, Lady Serena was not his type in the least. ‘How much do you want for this school?’ he asked flatly. ‘Would two hundred guineas suffice?’

  She looked startled by the amount, but quickly concealed her astonishment and was all charm again. ‘Monsieur le Marquis, that is most generous! Though as I explained, the important fact is that your name will be prominent in our list of donors, which will shortly appear in The Times. How inspiring, for such a notorious—I mean, notable personage as yourself to be making this generous gesture!’

  He didn’t allow his expression to change. ‘Yes. Inspiring. No doubt you’ll also be announcing it in person, tomorrow night?’

  ‘Tomorrow night?’ For the first time she looked slightly flustered.

  ‘I hope you’ve not forgotten that yesterday you agreed to attend the Duke of Hamilton’s ball with me tomorrow evening? I came here to tell you I’ll collect you in my carriage at eight.’

  She was silent. A little stunned even. Clearly, the reality of her situation was biting home.

  He said, gently, ‘I could leave now, you know. But I think your servants would be rather surprised if you didn’t offer me some refreshment. Tea, for example.’

  ‘Yes. Yes, of course...’

  ‘Allow me,’ he said, rising and walking over to the bell pull.

  * * *

  Serena sat back in her chair, to give herself a moment—just a moment—to recover her breath. To recover her strength. Since the carriage ride in the park, she’d agonised over how to escape this awful tangle, but she couldn’t—that was the simple answer. The Marquis had caught her up all too neatly in his web. But at least, she thought she’d found a way to make their appearances together just a little less of an earthquake-sized shock to polite society.

  The idea had come to her shortly after Joanna’s visit. The school, of course. He could pretend to support our school! Though now it worried her very much that he’d accepted the suggestion with so little argument. What was he plotting now? She glanced at Lefevre as he stretched himself out on the chair in her study—all the long, lean length of him immaculately clad in dark tailcoat, glossy top boots and breeches that hugged his muscular thighs. And it struck her that she was dealing with a highly dangerous enemy.

  Welcome distraction was provided by a maid coming in with the tea tray and Serena began to pour, a little too energetically. ‘Just think, Monsieur Lefevre! It will give everyone a delightful surprise to learn at the ball that you are supporting our charity venture!’

  ‘A surprise indeed,’ he answered. ‘Do be careful. I think you’ve rather overfilled that cup.’

  She put the silver teapot down with a hand that shook, aware that he was watching her with those steadfast silver-grey eyes of his. ‘I do hope,’ he went on, ‘that you will appear radiant tomorrow night, Lady Serena. Glowing, in fact, because you will be so happy to be by my side. We are going to convince the ton that we are entranced by one another. Remember? Otherwise, I’ll remove myself from your life without a moment’s hesitation—and I think you’ll find there could be unpleasant consequences.’

  She held his gaze steadily but felt a cold shiver on her skin. Did he mean from Silas Mort? Or from himself?

  She reached calmly for her cup and said, ‘My, I do hope you’ll be able to adopt a friendlier tone towards me at the ball, Monsieur Lefevre!’

  He was still watching her with that faintly mocking smile curving his lips and she felt it like a whisper of warmth over her skin, penetrating her body, teasing her nerve-ends like the kiss of a dark flame.

  He continued to lounge opposite her on that gaudy chair and
said, ‘Friendly? Friendly is not enough. Let me remind you that we’re to present ourselves from now on as a couple who are infatuated with one another and the fact that I’m willing to make a generous donation to your school has only increased your affection for me. Every now and then, a light touch, even a caress, will seem only natural. Inevitable, even. Remember, Lady Serena, that you are seeing me in an entirely new light. In fact, you feel you have completely underestimated the nobility of my character.’

  She was taking a sip of her tea and almost choked. ‘I hope you realise,’ she said at last, ‘that there are limits as to how far I can disguise my true feelings towards you?’

  He finished his own tea swiftly and deposited the cup on the table. ‘I accept there’ll be no displays of unbridled ardour,’ he said gently, ‘which is a pity.’ He rose to his feet. ‘Except when a villain like Silas Mort is around, perhaps?’

  She rose, too. ‘Believe me, Monsieur le Marquis,’ she said in a low voice, ‘I shall count the days until this is over.’

  ‘Will you? I, on the contrary, shall relish our time together. Every minute, in fact. Though now, regretfully, I must leave you.’ He reached out to let his fingers brush her cheek and when she backed away with a gasp his mouth curled in a mocking smile.

  She felt a hot pulse of shame. Silently she promised herself that she would one day get even with him.

  He headed for the door then, but at the last moment he turned back and added, ‘One other point. Will you please explain to your staff that I shall be a regular visitor from now on? Your butler, when he opened the front door to me, looked as if he’d personally like to shoot me. Have a word, will you? As I said, I’ll call for you tomorrow evening at eight.’

  Serena stood rooted to the spot as he left. Despicable, hateful man! Yet, at the mere memory of his light touch, she felt her heart pounding. Desperately she tried to calm herself. Yes, he had her trapped completely for now. But he would regret it—because she’d vowed she would never, ever let herself fall under the power of any man again.