“Have you seen? The betting book is already filling up for the Season.” Lord Trent slid the cue between his fingers and sent the balls scurrying across the felt.
“It’s more fun to bet early in the Season. Waiting until the matches are obvious doesn’t present the same challenge.” Colin gritted his teeth to keep from grinning at Lord Trent’s skill. He wouldn’t have to hold back for appearance’s sake. This was turning into a brilliant day.
They took turns knocking balls into the pockets. The club was quiet that afternoon. They were in fact the only men occupying the billiard tables, leaving them free to enjoy the simple sounds of the balls clacking against each other before they thunked into the pockets.
They’d each won a game and were setting up the third before Lord Trent spoke again.
“Do you know what I just realized?”
Colin raised a brow as he positioned his cue.
Lord Trent propped a hip against the billiard table. “I have nothing to attend this evening. No obligatory escorting of sisters.”
Once Colin had sent the balls rolling, Lord Trent spoke once more. “Have you any siblings, Mr. McCrae?”
It wasn’t surprising that Lord Trent had chosen Colin’s least favorite topic. The Hawthornes were a notoriously loyal family. They would never comprehend the idea that a man could consider gambling away his livelihood and his children’s future and well-being along with it. “I’ve a sister.”
“She married?”
“No.” At least not that he knew of. “She’s out this year, though.” And he wasn’t there to protect her. He placed his aim carefully but put too much force behind the cue, and the tip clanked against the ball, sending it careening into the bumpers. He should be there making sure she was courted by the right sort of man. But the scandal that had driven him from town in the first place still lurked in people’s memories, waiting to be recalled the moment he showed his face again. If he returned, it could ruin any chance she had at a decent match.
“Why don’t you bring her down to London? I’m sure Mother would love to take her around.” Lord Trent’s cue connected with a solid thump, and two balls dropped into the pocket.
The chaos that would cause brought a smile to Colin’s face as he imagined it. “My father doesn’t care for London.”
That was putting it lightly. Oh, his father didn’t mind the docks, though they were annoyingly overcrowded. It was the actual city itself. The hustle and bustle that Colin had thrived on for the past five years made the old Scotsman grumble and grouse and look mad enough to chew nails for at least a week after each visit.
Lord Trent leaned on his cue, considering Colin for a long moment. Was he guessing that was the very reason Colin had settled in the city? Whatever his thoughts, Lord Trent didn’t voice them, just nodded and went back to the game.
Lord Howard stumbled through the room in worn and wrinkled evening clothes. Had the man not been home yet? It was early afternoon.
Lord Trent circled the table to stand beside Colin. “His name’s in the books at least three times. Hard to believe there are women out there who actually want to marry that man, isn’t it?”
Collin shrugged. “Most of the time he’s well put together. Now, of course, he’s a bit worse for wear.” Though his family had money, Lord Howard didn’t have a pence to his name. Some woman was going to wake up to a harsh reality when she discovered that.
“Praise God neither of my sisters have set their caps for him. Don’t think I could stomach him coming round that often.” Lord Trent sank the last ball, winning the game.
Colin stored his cue in disgust. He’d barely touched a ball that round.
The two men ordered drinks and dropped into two of the tufted burgundy leather chairs near one of the upper-floor windows. “What about you?”
Colin looked at Lord Trent with raised eyebrows. “What about me?”
“Any plans to marry soon?”
With a shrug, Colin took a large swallow of brandy to buy himself time. “I’m not opposed to the idea. But I’ve time yet.” Colin prayed that was enough to satisfy the man and that Lord Trent wouldn’t feel the need to bring up his sisters in relation to Colin’s matrimonial prospects.
Lord Trent nodded, apparently in agreement with Colin’s views of pending matrimony. “It will be nice, though, once my sisters have married. Having both of them out is exhausting.”
Colin couldn’t have agreed more.
In the name of getting his life back to normal, Colin left the club and strolled farther down St. James’s Street in the direction of Ryland’s Pall Mall mansion. Perhaps it was the mellow mood he found himself in after spending a few hours relaxing instead of thinking, but Colin had almost convinced himself that Ryland was ready to discuss a reasonable, straight-forward progression for his courtship of Lady Miranda.
As hard as Ryland was working for the lady, Colin was beginning to suspect that Ryland was having to overcome more than simply lying about his identity. Which meant it was likely that Colin was about to witness the unfurling of another campaign scheme.
Which was almost as entertaining as engaging the younger Hawthorne sister in a battle of wits.
Where had that thought come from?
Yet more evidence that he needed Ryland to get married so Colin could stop thinking about anyone’s personal matters. He was becoming entirely too involved in them.
The butler opened Ryland’s door, replacing the wooden blockade with his own sizable bulk. His craggy face and nonexistent neck probably scared away the majority of callers.
The majority of callers didn’t know that the giant former smuggler was keeping an abandoned kitten in the kitchen and feeding drops of milk into its mouth every few hours.
Colin handed the butler his hat, praying Ryland’s next scheme was harebrained enough to engage Colin’s mind for the next several hours, if not a day or two. Anything to keep from thinking about Lady Georgina. Maybe he couldn’t shake her because Colin had just left her brother. The whole family bore a marked resemblance to each other. “Good afternoon, Price. Is he in?”
“Of course, Mr. McCrae.”
He took Colin’s coat and led the way down the hall to Ryland’s study. “Mr. McCrae is here to see you, sir.”
Colin clapped Price on the shoulder as he sidled around the man to get into the study. “You’ll have to start using Your Grace instead of sir if you want to be a proper butler, Price.”
Price grinned as he backed out of the room. It made his face look eerily boyish. “I think that’s the least of my problems, Mr. McCrae.”
Colin looked the other man up and down, taking in the muscles stretching the tailored coat, the cravat attempting to delineate some sort of neck, and the pale scar that slashed its way above the stiff collar. “You may have a point there.”
Price pulled the door closed as Colin threw himself into one of the Chippendale wing chairs that flanked the cold fireplace.
Ryland was rising from a desk sprawled with account books. Colin tried to gauge his mood, but despite the fading discoloration around the eye, his face was remarkably blank.
Colin stuck his booted feet out in front of himself and crossed them at the ankles. He was going to have to rattle the cage a bit. “Didn’t expect to see you at the card party last night.”
Ryland shrugged as he came around the desk to settle in the other chair. “I couldn’t bear to hide out in my room any longer.”
He looked calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that indicated he had a plan he felt certain of.
Colin’s prayers had been answered. Normally a master strategist, this whole business with Lady Miranda had knocked Ryland off course. It was entertaining to say the least.
Making him stew about it was even more so. Colin redirected the conversation as much to prolong Ryland’s agony as to tease him. “Is your aunt delighted you’re home?”
“Hardly. I think she coddled the eggs with her glare this morning.”
“And Mr. Montgomery?”
Ryland shrugged, apparently not interested in discussing his cousin.
Sweat formed beneath Colin’s collar. He was no longer amused and now a bit anxious to hear the plan. If discussing the aunt and cousin who hated him wouldn’t distract Ryland, then his plan required Colin’s involvement. So much for being an entertained bystander.
“Have you found anything more about that mine investment inquiry?” Ryland asked.
Relief flooded Colin’s gut. It wasn’t anything to do with Lady Miranda, but about that fake investment Colin had given Ryland to use in a spy case.
Colin frowned. “I thought you were off the case. You said you turned everything you had over to another agent.”
Ryland dropped his head onto the back of the chair. “I don’t like leaving things unfinished.”
Silence stretched.
“You’re supposed to be moving on with your life,” Colin finally said.
Colin understood the unbearable itch of leaving things undone, but the man was in the middle of courting a lady who lived the epitome of a normal life. If Ryland continued to dabble in his old affairs, would Lady Miranda be dragged into it? How long could Ryland keep the two completely separate?
Colin gave in and told Ryland everything he knew about the doomed investment he had built the fake one on. There wasn’t much, but if it helped Ryland finish this case and leave the world of espionage behind, it was worth it.
Eventually Colin couldn’t take it anymore. He had to know if things were as bad with Lady Miranda as they appeared to be. “How fares your latest project?”
“I assume you refer to my courtship of Lady Miranda.”
When last Colin had seen them it more closely resembled the harassment of Lady Miranda, but courtship was probably still the most accurate word. “Aye. Unless you’ve decided the younger sister is more appealing after all.”
Simply joking that someone of intelligence would find Lady Georgina preferable to Lady Miranda left a sour taste in Colin’s mouth.
Ryland’s lips curved into a half smile. “Not at all. Are you intrigued by the younger?”
“Are you daft, man?” The sour taste crawled down his throat. “It takes only a moment to tell her head is filled with fashion and frippery. I’d rather court your parlor maid.”
“Jess is actually quite fetching. She likes to read Shakespeare.”
“Maybe I’ll take her for a drive.” Colin laughed. There were days when the idea of packing it all up and taking a simple maid and running to the country was appealing.
Too bad the idle life would bore him within days.
Ryland leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. “I was wondering if you would take Miranda.”
Collin’s laughter stumbled to a halt in his throat, all but choking him. “I beg your pardon?”
“You didn’t reveal last night that we know each other.” Ryland lifted a single eyebrow, daring Colin to contradict the assumption that he enjoyed the intrigue.
“Old habits, you know. I never knew what you were up to on the rare occasion I saw you in public. Seemed safer to pretend I didn’t know you.” Colin leaned forward, mirroring Ryland’s posture. He was not going to get dragged in to Ryland’s scheme. Not under any circumstances.
Still, he really wanted to know what it was. “Please don’t tell me you want me to spy on this woman.”
“Yes.”
What must it be like in Ryland’s head? Colin’s lips flattened. “I refuse to interrogate a lady as to whether or not she’s forgiven you. Besides, as you said, she doesn’t know we know each other.”
Ryland examined his fingernails. “You could ask her about the card game.”
Colin burst from the chair and paced across the room. “You want me to go to this woman’s house, ask her to go for a ride, and then proceed to embarrass her thoroughly so that you can have more information with which to create your plan of attack?”
“Yes.”
“No. This is a courtship, not an army invasion.” Besides, if he went to Hawthorne House he’d have to see the social-climbing Ice Princess as well as Lady Miranda. No, thank you.
“One should always know the factors involved when creating a plan of action. Information is power, and I’m going to need all of the leverage I can get to bring her around. She’s being stubbornly female about the whole thing.”
Colin scoffed. “How dare she?” He glared at Ryland. “Find yourself another lackey. I won’t do it.” This time he really meant it. Colin would not get involved.
Not any more than he already had.
The two men stared at each other. Time stretched on, the clicking of the mantel clock the only sound.
“This is about more than your spying, isn’t it?”
Ryland frowned. “It’s possible I obtained some of her personal papers during my investigation.”
Colin waited. His inner resolve had already crumbled, and he knew he was going to agree to Ryland’s request, but he refused to admit it yet. His agreement was the only bargaining power he had at the moment, and as Ryland had said, information was power.
“I wrote to her,” Ryland mumbled. “As the duke.”
“While you there as the valet?”
Ryland nodded.
Colin gave a low whistle. That was a lot of deception for one woman to forgive. Ryland rather deserved to go through the gauntlet to get her back. “’Twas a fine piece of horseflesh you got at Tattersall’s this week.”
Ryland frowned. “You can’t have the horse.”
Colin simply grinned.
Chapter 12
Georgina plucked a stray thread from her skirt before fanning the fabric across the gold-and-white settee. She smiled as Lord Andrew made his bows and good-byes. Being heir to only a viscountcy, he wasn’t marriage material, but he was handsome and well-liked. It was important to have a group of acceptable dance partners.
Otherwise she might end up dancing with Mr. McCrae again.
“My lady, Mr. McCrae has arrived.”
Had she conjured the man up from thin air? Georgina’s eyes widened as she searched the butler for signs that he was lying or taking part in an elaborate joke. That Gibson had never been anything but serious and competent about his job meant nothing. The man had to be lying now.
“Odious man,” she hissed under her breath. “I don’t wish to see him, Mother.”
Gibson cleared his throat. “He asked to see Lady Miranda, milady.”
“Oh.” Georgina turned to Miranda, who looked equally as stunned.
After a moment Miranda’s expression turned smug. Did she think to make Georgina jealous because that man was calling? As if Georgina would ever desire his company.
Miranda looked gleeful as she answered the butler. “Thank you, Gibson. Please show him in.”
Maybe Georgina’s sister just wanted to torture her. It wouldn’t be the first time.
Gibson bowed and returned to the hall. Mr. McCrae strode in moments later.
Part of Georgina admitted that he made a very striking picture entering the drawing room. His clothing was impeccable. Cut with an expert hand and worn with care. The lines of his cravat were sharp enough to cut someone.
Maybe even himself.
Then he’d be too busy nursing his wounds to hinder Georgina’s plans.
He bowed to Georgina’s mother. “Good afternoon, my lady.”
“Same to you, Mr. McCrae. I didn’t know we would see you again so soon.”
Georgina’s mouth tightened at the warm smile on her mother’s face. Did she really want this man in the family? Miranda’s spinsterhood was better than marrying this lout.
The lout bypassed her completely.
What was he up to? Hadn’t he just been warning her off the duke, suggesting that Miranda had feelings for him?
“Lady Miranda, I know this is quite presumptuous of me, but would you care to go for a drive?”
“Yes.” Miranda popped up from the settee. “Yes, I would love to.”
Entirely unlike a woman in love. Tension Georgina hadn’t even known she’d been carrying around released. The duke was available after all.
Miranda laid her hand on Mr. McCrae’s arm, smiling as he covered her hand with his own.
Georgina’s stomach tightened up once more.
Now that Lady Miranda was in the carriage, Colin wasn’t sure what to do with her. He was fairly certain Ryland wanted Colin to pretend to want to court Lady Miranda himself, but chances were he’d be seeing this woman for many years to come and they didn’t need that sort of history.
“I enjoyed meeting you last night. I haven’t played such an interesting hand of whist in years.” Not since the night his father had gambled away a quarter of the family shipping company.
Lady Miranda flushed and turned her face away. “I confess that I have not either.”
He hated bringing up that absurd card game. To most people the conversation Ryland and Lady Miranda had held over a hand of cards would have been nothing but strange, but Colin knew enough of the situation to follow their coded statements.
Not that Lady Miranda would know that.
A few people looked his way with narrowed eyes as they drove down the street. What were they thinking? Colin never took a woman out for a drive. That he was doing so now might be seen as significant. If people started calling him grasping and thought him intent on truly courting Lady Miranda, they might become wary of his presence on the fringe of their circles.
He shouldn’t have done it. No matter how good a friend Ryland was.
“Lady Miranda, may I be ruthlessly honest with you?”
“Of . . . of course.”
Colin shifted in his seat. “We both know there was more afoot than a game of cards last night, and we also know that I could never compete with a duke as far as social status goes.”
He was playing right into Ryland’s plan, but there was no other way to have this conversation and not make things worse for the duke. While it was true he shouldn’t have agreed to do this, he was here now and might as well make the best of it.
“Mr. McCrae, I can assure you that I find you a most interesting gentleman.”
Colin had a feeling God was not happy with his behavior at the moment. Why was he doing this? It had been obvious last night that Lady Miranda felt strongly for the duke. Shouldn’t that be enough for Ryland to move forward?
An Elegant Façade (Hawthorne House Book #2) Page 12