The Unlikely Lady

by Valerie Bowman

  “That’s absolutely right,” Lucy agreed.

  “And we must plan what we’ll say to Mama when she arrives next week looking for Mrs. Bunbury,” Jane continued.

  Cass tugged at her long hair. “What exactly do you intend to do?”

  Lucy’s eyes lit with the mischievous glee they always did whenever she was explaining one of her schemes. “The idea is that if Jane has a chaperone who doesn’t exist, she might go to the circulating library or an intellectual salon instead of making calls and attending parties. There would be no one to contradict her assertions about where she has been.”

  “But how will you ever keep up the charade back in London?” Cass asked.

  Lucy tapped a finger against her cheek. “Admittedly, we haven’t thought it through much more than that. We were merely worried about this house party at present.”

  “Yes, one problem at a time,” Jane said.

  “However, Jane and I intended to devote a good portion of the next week to coming up with the solution to the problem,” Lucy added with a resolute nod.

  Cass ran her hands down her sleeves. “Your mother thinks you’re here with Mrs. Bunbury, Jane?”

  Jane nodded. “I was able to leave the house with Eloise, but Mama insisted she be introduced to my new chaperone when she arrives next week.”

  “Don’t worry, Jane. We’ll think of something,” Lucy assured her.

  “You two always do.” Cass turned her head from side to side in the mirror. “Perhaps I can wear a veil over my face for the next few days until this spot goes away.”

  “The veil will just draw more attention to it.” Lucy turned to Jane. “You arrived here successfully, didn’t you?”

  Jane nodded. “I did, indeed, arrive successfully. I agree about the veil.”

  Cass sighed and backed away from the looking glass. She turned to her friends.

  “Cass, you are not to worry yourself on the matter at all,” Lucy said. “You are the bride and it is your wedding party. Jane and I will handle the Mrs. Bunbury business.”

  “That’s right,” Jane agreed.

  “Did you tell Garrett about Mrs. Bunbury?” Cass asked.

  Lucy shook her head. “No. Not yet.”

  Cass’s eyes widened. “You plan to?”

  Lucy smoothed her skirts. “With Garrett, it’s best to admit to things. He has an unfortunate habit of finding out eventually, and it’s better for everyone if he’s in on it from the first.”

  “Yes, he did help when Owen arrived at the house party last autumn,” Cass admitted. “But still, even though it’s my wedding week, I want to help with Jane’s situation. It will keep my mind off my nerves, and my mother. And my spot.” She pressed at the offending bump again with the tip of her finger.

  Jane tugged at her lower lip. “I’ve been thinking … Perhaps we can have Mrs. Bunbury write Mama a letter and tell her she’s come down with an illness and had to leave. She can add that she is quite certain I should despair of making a match. Perhaps we can convince Mama to abandon hope when it comes to my marital prospects.”

  Lucy wrinkled her nose. “I’m not certain your mother would take one woman’s word for it, Janie, dear.”

  “And a woman she hasn’t met at that,” Cass added.

  “You’re right.” Jane paced across the rug. “Perhaps Mrs. Bunbury could commence a campaign of letters on the subject, begging Mama to desist in her attempts to marry me off lest she become the laughingstock of the ton.”

  “Better,” Lucy conceded, pacing in the opposite direction, “but it still lacks a certain … something.”

  Cass tucked a blond lock behind her ear. She stared out the window. “You could always involve yourself in a scandal. Your mother would be forced to keep you behind closed doors. If it were bad enough, that is.”

  Jane stopped pacing. “Scandal?”

  Cass turned her chin to her shoulder and laughed. “I was only teasing.”

  “No. I liked it, quite a lot actually,” Jane said.

  “A scandal,” Lucy echoed, her unusually colored eyes twinkling.

  Cass twirled to face them. “Oh, Lucy, no! Don’t get that look. No scandals, please.”

  “What sort of scandal would it have to be?” Jane asked, her attention riveted to Lucy.

  “No, Janie. No scandal! Certainly not at my wedding. Please,” Cass begged.

  “We would never dream of doing anything to disrupt your wedding, Cass, dear,” Lucy said. “But after the wedding…”

  “Yes?” Jane prompted, certain she had the same twinkle in her own eye.

  Cass rushed to stand between them. “Oh, Jane. Being a wallflower is one thing, but a scandal is quite another. And I—”

  Jane patted Cass on the shoulder. She and Lucy needed to plan this alone. Poor, anxious Cass had enough to fret over. “Don’t worry. It won’t be a hideous scandal, just a small, effective one.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “You shall be a beautiful bride,” Garrett told Cassandra that evening over drinks before dinner in the drawing room. He bowed over the hand she presented to him.

  When he straightened up again, he scanned the room. Miss Lowndes watched him through narrowed eyes. Miss Lowndes was always watching him through narrowed eyes. If she was paying him any mind at all, that was. He inclined his head toward her and her scowl deepened. Just as expected, he’d annoyed her simply by smiling at her. Ha.

  It was too bad, really. Miss Lowndes might be attractive—pretty even—if she wasn’t such a know-it-all with a razor for a tongue. She was of medium height and looked as if she might be very well formed indeed from what he could tell. Which wasn’t much because she’d never deigned to wear a ladylike garment. Instead, she insisted on dressing herself in serious-looking blue wool morning and day dresses that left everything to the imagination. What was it about bluestockings and their complete lack of femininity? Would it kill her to reveal a bit of skin once in a while?

  Garrett shook his head. This was not a good thing to be thinking. Miss Lowndes had a round face, bright, intelligent brown eyes that sparkled with mirth—usually brought on by a joke at his expense—and were only to be seen behind a pair of silver-rimmed spectacles she never removed. She also had rich, dark brown hair that was always pulled into a severe knot on the top of her head. It was as if she thought a bit of her intellectual superiority would seep out if a hair was out of place.

  He had the sudden urge to pull the pins from her topknot and watch her hair spill over her shoulders. Wouldn’t that make her run for her smelling salts? No. She was more likely to slap him across the face. He rubbed his cheek as if she’d done it.

  Dragging his thoughts from the queen of the bluestockings, Garrett turned his attention to the other occupants of the room. Not all the guests who had been invited to the prewedding festivities had arrived yet, but there was a large crush. Cassandra, Lucy, Miss Lowndes, and Garrett had managed a few moments alone before going in to dinner with the other guests. Cassandra had insisted Garrett join them instead of having drinks in the study with the other gentlemen.

  Cassandra blushed. “Thank you for saying I’ll be a beautiful bride, Garrett.”

  “Only stating the truth, Cassandra,” he replied with another bow. He glanced up. Had Miss Lowndes rolled her eyes at his comment?

  “It’s too bad Mrs. Bunbury is under the weather this evening,” Miss Lowndes said with a laugh.

  Lucy clapped her hands. “Yes. Let’s discuss.” She entwined her arm through Miss Lowndes’s and made as if to take her off into the corner to have a private discussion.

  Garrett gave Cassandra a questioning stare. She winced.

  Garrett narrowed his eyes on his cousin and Miss Lowndes. This was his chance to get to the bottom of this ludicrous scheme. He held up a hand. “Just a moment. Did I hear you say ‘Bunbury’?”

  The two stopped their journey across the room. “Yes, what of it, Upton?” Miss Lowndes gave him a look that could melt marble.

  Garrett cleared
his throat. “Isn’t Miss Bunbury the name Cassandra used last autumn when she was pretending to be a nonexistent person?”

  Lucy’s eyes shifted back and forth. “Yes, it was.” She turned again.

  Garrett blinked at Cassandra. She winced for the second time.

  “Would this Mrs. Bunbury be any relation to Miss Bunbury, then?” he asked.

  Miss Lowndes sighed heavily and pushed up her chin. “Of course they aren’t related, Upton. Neither one of them exists.” She gave him a look that clearly indicated she thought him an imbecile.

  Garrett turned to Cassandra, the only one of the three who could be counted on to explain this nonsense adequately. He arched a brow in her direction.

  “Mrs. Bunbury is Jane’s chaperone,” Cassandra said simply, as if that explained it.

  “That’s right,” Lucy offered.

  “But she doesn’t exist?” Garrett clarified.

  “Of course not,” Miss Lowndes replied. “What is the use of a nonexistent chaperone if she existed?”

  Garrett put one hand on his hip. “I’m going to regret asking this, but why do you want a nonexistent chaperone?”

  Miss Lowndes pushed up her spectacles and gave him a tight smile. “The better question is, of course, why would I want an existent chaperone?”

  Lucy seemed completely at ease with that answer and the two ladies continued to chat until Garrett cleared his throat again. “Why do I have the feeling that one of Lucy’s schemes is at work here?”

  Cassandra folded her hands and searched the room as if desperately looking for something to do other than meet his eyes.

  “Don’t worry about it, Upton,” came Miss Lowndes’s tight reply.

  “On the contrary, I cannot help but worry about it if Lucy is doing something she ought not to.”

  Lucy turned to face him this time. “Garrett, you may relinquish your role as the sensible one for the remainder of the house party. As my husband, Derek is only too willing to see to it that I don’t get up to too much trouble. He knows all about Mrs. Bunbury.”

  Garrett clasped his hands behind his back and allowed the hint of a smile to pop to his lips. “Yes. I know. He told me.”

  Lucy’s eyes went wide. “You already knew?”

  “A bit,” Garrett replied. “But with all due respect to the duke, I don’t think Claringdon is fully aware of the extent of trouble you can get up to, dear cousin.”

  “Isn’t he?” Lucy batted her eyelashes.

  “Be that as it may,” Miss Lowndes interjected, “it’s none of your concern, Upton.”

  Garrett turned back to Cassandra. There was little hope of getting Lucy or Miss Lowndes to crack, but Cassandra, Cassandra would only take a bit of prodding. “Cassandra?” He drew out her name.

  “Don’t look at me!” Cassandra replied. “I told them causing a scandal was a bad idea. A very bad one indeed.”

  Garrett slapped his thigh and turned back to face the other two. “A scandal?”

  Lucy’s brow was furrowed in a deep frown. “Cass, why did you say that?”

  Cass bit her lip and wrung her hands. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t try to change the subject,” Garrett replied. “What type of a scandal are you trying to cause?”

  “Nothing too large or awful,” Lucy replied. “And nothing until the wedding is past. We promised Cass.”

  Cass nodded. “Yes, thank you for that, but I still think it’s a bad idea.”

  “It’s an awful idea.” Garrett tried his damnedest to keep from raising his voice. “I assume this scandal would affect Miss Lowndes’s reputation?”

  “Yes,” Miss Lowndes said. “But we plan to—”

  “What?”

  “Control the size of the scandal.”

  “Control the size?” Garrett shot back. “You’ve been around the ton long enough, both of you. Those vultures seize upon any bit of gossip. The smallest incident could quickly grow out of proportion.”

  Miss Lowndes’s expression was bored. “Thank you for your interest and concern, Upton. But despite what you may think, a lady doesn’t always need a man to tell her what to do.”

  Garrett’s jaw tightened. “By God, it’s not about my being a man. It’s about common sense, and I—”

  “Think you have the monopoly on common sense because of your gender,” Jane finished for him.

  “No I don’t,” he growled through clenched teeth. No one could make him more angry more quickly than Jane Lowndes and her know-it-all female-equality attitude. Especially since he didn’t have a bloody problem with female equality. He had a severe problem with know-it-alls, however.

  “Don’t you?” Miss Lowndes answered sweetly. “I seem to remember you telling Lucy last autumn that she desperately needed a man to come to Upbridge Estate for the house party and see to things.”

  His jaw remained tight. “That house party was ill-advised and—”

  “Because a man wasn’t running it?” came Miss Lowndes’s swift reply. She blinked at him innocently.

  “No. It had nothing to do with—”

  “I don’t believe you, Upton. I think you are overly impressed with yourself because you happen to be male, a sad trait among your sex, to be sure. But I don’t share your regard for your innately superior intellect and am happy to rely upon my own in all matters. No one asked you.”

  Cassandra’s eyebrows both shot up.

  Garrett took a long, deep breath. “I never said anyone asked me, but I’m damn well going to tell you if I think you are making fools of yourselves and—”

  Miss Lowndes raised her nose and addressed her remarks to Lucy. “Did you ask him, Lucy? I didn’t.”

  Garrett narrowed his eyes on Miss Lowndes. The woman was entirely too smug. “If you would allow me to get in a word edgewise, I could tell you that—”

  “Now, now,” Lucy interjected. “Let’s not argue in the middle of the wedding party. You are upsetting Cass. And you promised to be civil.”

  Garrett searched Cassandra’s face. She was wringing her hands and the shimmer in her eyes told him that she was on the verge of tears. Damn it. Lucy had a point. He shut his mouth, turned away, and downed a healthy portion of his drink. Very well. He’d bide his time and take this discussion back up with Lucy and Miss Lowndes later.

  “Yes, let’s change the subject,” Miss Lowndes agreed. “I find this one extremely distasteful.” She gave Garrett a tight smile.

  Cass breathed a sigh. “Oh, please, let’s.” Her gaze scanned the room as if looking for a suitable subject. She pointed a finger in the air. “Garrett, I nearly forgot to tell you. Mrs. Langford is coming.”

  Garrett nearly spat his drink. “Pardon?”

  “Mrs. Langford. Mrs. Harold Langford. She mentioned you specifically in her letter.”

  “Her letter?” Garrett set his drink on the nearby table and braced his palm against the top. The walls were closing in around him.

  “Yes. Apparently, Mrs. Langford’s deceased husband knew Julian and Donald and, well, she nearly invited herself to the wedding. I was put off by her forwardness until she mentioned your name.”

  Garrett tugged at his cravat. The room was stifling.

  “Mrs. Langford invited herself to your wedding? And she’s coming?” he managed to choke out, his finger lodged between his cravat and neck.

  “Please don’t think it was a bother. Any friend of yours and Julian’s and Donald’s is more than welcome. It just seemed a bit odd at first,” Cassandra replied.

  “She’s coming?” Garrett echoed. Having his hand braced against the table didn’t stop the room from spinning.

  Cassandra nodded. “Yes, I invited her to the house party as well. It was a bit awkward because she’d mentioned you were coming. I decided if she already knew about it, it would be rude not to invite her.”

  “It sounds as if Mrs. Langford is the rude one,” Miss Lowndes pointed out with a sniff.

  Garrett stared unseeing into the fireplace. How the devil did Isabella Langfo
rd know he’d been planning to come to the house party? He certainly hadn’t mentioned it in any of the notes.

  “Is she—” He swallowed. “Has she arrived?”

  “Not yet.” Cass shook her head. “I believe she intends to arrive first thing in the morning.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Garrett shut the door to his guest bedchamber behind him. He made his way over to the wing-back chair in front of the poster bed. He sat and shucked off his boots. Then he stood and strode to the window, flexing his toes. He looked down on the courtyard below, a sweeping expanse of gravel in front of the manor house.

  Two words kept repeating themselves in his brain.

  Isabella Langford.

  She was Harold Langford’s widow. Harold Langford had been one of Garrett’s closest friends in the army. Harold had not returned from Spain. But Garrett had, and he’d done what he could—inadequate though it may be—to see to it that Isabella and the children were taken care of ever since.

  Isabella was coming? Here? It made him … uneasy. He’d spent years distancing himself from those years at war. Even though the nightmares woke him with a cold sweat each night, he’d done an admirable job of keeping his Society life separate from his memories.

  Lately, that was becoming more difficult. He’d seen Isabella at an increasing number of Society events in town. A fortnight ago, he’d even run into her when he was out and had been obliged to escort her home. She’d invited him in for a drink. He’d declined.

  If he didn’t know better, he’d think she’d been flirting with him. It made him bloody uncomfortable. Now she had managed to wheedle an invitation to Cassandra’s wedding? Something about it seemed not quite right. And mentioning the house party? Had he even told her about it? He was certain he had not.

  He scrubbed his hands through his hair. Deuced uncomfortable. He’d been looking forward to a bit of relaxation this week, but now that Harold’s widow was arriving, it would be anything but relaxing.

  Garrett’s thoughts turned to Lucy and Miss Lowndes. Jane. Funny how he called Cassandra and Lucy by their Christian names but he’d never done so with Jane Lowndes. She, however, referred to him only as Upton. As if she couldn’t spare the word “mister.” He was quite certain if he said “Tory,” Miss Lowndes would say “Whig” just to spite him. Lucy insisted her friend was truly a nice young lady, once one got to know her. Perhaps she was … to other young ladies, but she’d been nothing but irascible to him.