Never Trust a Scoundrel

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Never Trust a Scoundrel Page 27

by Gayle Callen


  But Lady Elizabeth was chatting about the young men she’d been introduced to, and it was a while before Grace could politely take her leave.

  She wandered the ball alone, not bothering to look for Beverly right away. She ran into the occasional lady whose acquaintance she had already made, and was greeted civilly, politely, without a hint of lurid curiosity. Then Grace would move on again, swept up in the current of the ballroom, skirting the many couples dancing in the center of the room, passing the refreshment room.

  And then she caught another man’s eye, and instead of a polite bow, she received a shocked stare. He was speaking with an older lady, who gasped when she saw Grace, and began to speak even more forcefully to the man, using her hands to gesture wildly. And they continued to stare at her as if politeness would no longer apply to a woman whose own mother had sold her on a bet.

  In the refreshment room was a long buffet table full of gleaming silver tureens and platters displaying tempting foods, but Grace couldn’t eat. She was too busy holding her head high, nodding to people she passed, pretending nothing was wrong—pretending that she was above it.

  She saw Daniel, and her heart beat wildly for a moment with just the pleasure of his looking at her. And then her feelings plummeted, knowing she could not allow it to continue. These past weeks, people had watched the two of them with interest, but now there was an undercurrent of ugly fascination. She wanted Daniel to stay away, but he came toward her with clear purpose. The crowd parted eagerly, watching, waiting. Surely a woman like her was only worth being his mistress.

  He took her gloved hand and kissed it, and although she was warmed clear to her toes by the sweet gesture, it took everything in her not to pull away.

  “Mr. Throckmorten,” she began in a low voice.

  “Miss Banbury, you look stunning as always.”

  His low, smooth voice made her shiver inside. How was she to spend her days without these wondrous feelings he inspired in her? She had to school her features, had to show the ton that she could be as remote as any of them.

  But she knew she was foolishly smiling at Daniel, sealing her fate.

  “We’re quite the object of gossip tonight,” he said quietly, holding up his arm to her.

  She reluctantly placed her hand on his forearm. “I told you I could handle my…problem, and I guess you feel that I haven’t done a very good job.”

  “You stood up to a blackmailer,” he said softly. “You have the courage of a lioness.”

  She blinked up at him in surprise, heat and tenderness spilling through her. “But…it didn’t work. He has told people what my mother did to me. Can’t you tell? You shouldn’t even be seen with me.”

  “He’s told everyone that I was a part of a base game where a woman’s reputation was at stake. You are only the victim, while I was a knowing participant. It’s been over an hour now since the rumors started. Do you know how the story has grown?”

  Though he spoke with amusement, she felt her face drain of blood.

  He patted her hand. “Don’t worry. It will all come to right.”

  “How can you say that?” she whispered fiercely, her face frozen in a false smile. “What are they saying?”

  “Grace—”

  “Tell me!”

  “The bet has grown from the right to court and marry you—which didn’t bother many people, I might add—”

  “Daniel!”

  “Very well, the next version was that I won the right to your virginity.”

  She gasped. “Can the story become worse?”

  “I can see you are not familiar with the deviltry of the ton, my love, because now the rumor is that we have a baby together, which we just visited at Madingley Court.”

  It took her a moment to hear what he said, because the words “my love” were ringing in her ears and in her heart. My love? What was he saying? Was he trying to shore up her reputation? She felt ill thinking he’d feel like he had to save her—like she’d just trapped him into marriage by her foolish confrontation with Jenkins.

  How could she ever know if he really loved her if he felt forced to marry her?

  But maybe marriage wasn’t even occurring to him. After all, she was just like her own mother—and his: giving her future children a scandal to live down.

  Was she alone in this disaster?

  Then her brother Edward approached them, and on his arm was a lovely young woman with striking red hair who betrayed a bit of nervousness as she stared all around her. Grace glanced about, and people were watching openly, as if they expected Edward to challenge Daniel.

  “Grace, this is Miss Hutton,” Edward said. “Miss Hutton, my sister, Miss Banbury.”

  Grace remembered to curtsy, and the other woman did the same. On a night like this, how could Edward introduce her to the woman who’d captured his attention? Didn’t he know that this scandal might drive away Miss Hutton, leaving him all alone?

  She felt Daniel’s steady arm beneath her hand, and she remembered to breathe. “It is so nice to meet you, Miss Hutton.”

  “A pleasure meeting you, Miss Banbury,” she said in a sweet voice. “Your brother has told me so much about you, and said I’m supposed to ask you any questions I might have, but I’m not sure I could be so forward.” She glanced at Edward with guilt. “And I think I probably speak too quickly.”

  But Edward smiled down at Miss Hutton with such fondness that Grace found some of her tension easing. She so wanted him to be happy. “Please, Miss Hutton, ask anything you’d like. And come to call on me, so we can become better acquainted. Have you met Mr. Throckmorten?”

  “I have,” she said, smiling up at Daniel. “He has been a guest of my parents. Good evening, Mr. Throckmorten.”

  While Daniel answered politely, Grace saw that the duke was approaching them, escorting Beverly.

  And then Grace realized that all the people she cared about were rallying in support of her, showing the gossipmongers how little the scandal mattered. She could have cried.

  But she couldn’t imagine it would be enough to make her a valued guest in people’s homes. Except maybe as an attraction, like at the zoo.

  As Edward and the duke spoke with each other, Daniel said into her ear, “Grace, stay with Madingley. I have something I need to do, but we’ll be together again soon—and no, I’m not going after Jenkins.”

  “I never thought so,” she said solemnly. Looking up into his warm eyes, she murmured, “I trust you, Daniel.”

  He smiled and kissed her hand before he walked away.

  Then it was Edward’s turn to make his excuses for a moment, leaving Miss Hutton with them. Miss Hutton stared at the duke as if he were the Prince Consort himself, and Grace was amused at the duke’s patient smile.

  The orchestra finished playing a quadrille and did not begin another musical selection. Grace looked up at the duke in surprise, but surely he was not about to make a speech to the assembly since he was right beside her.

  He smiled and extended his arm to Grace. “Will you come with me?”

  “Of course, Your Grace,” she said, wondering what he was about. There was no music to dance to. She glanced at Beverly and Miss Hutton, who both looked as confused as she felt.

  The crowd parted for them, and people did not give her the shocked smirks they’d been giving her before, now that she was on the arm of the duke.

  She still could not see through the crowd when she heard the first chords of a piano. Silence started before her, then spread all around as people whispered to others behind them. Grace didn’t know what was going on, but the duke still seemed calm.

  As they neared the corner of the room where the orchestra had been set up, the last of the guests backed away before them, and Grace saw who was playing the piano.

  Lady Flora, Daniel’s mother. Grace inhaled a shocked breath.

  The light gray gown she wore softened the severity that Grace had first associated with her. Her face was full of concentration, and the next few lines of mus
ic were hesitant. But then confidence seemed to suffuse her, and she smiled faintly as she continued the piece. Grace thought she recognized one of Baldwin Throckmorten’s compositions. Why had Lady Flora decided to renew her musical career in so public a place?

  The first sweet strains of a violin made Grace’s head turn swiftly. Daniel was walking toward his mother, the antique violin beneath his chin. He played from memory, and although his rendition was not flawless, since he had obviously not been practicing, the fact that mother and son performed together after all these years made her eyes start to water. At her side, the duke looked solemn, but proud, and she saw Lady Elizabeth blowing her nose into her handkerchief.

  And then she began to wonder why Daniel and his mother were putting themselves on display for all the gossips in the crowd, resurrecting an old scandal about jealousy and betrayal and murder. Did they want people to start talking again, or were they testing to see if at last the scandal had faded away?

  And then Daniel met her eyes, and she caught her breath in sudden understanding. Tears began to run down her cheeks, and when she fumbled with her reticule, the duke handed her his monogrammed handkerchief, which she used unabashedly.

  Daniel and his mother were doing this for her. They were distracting the crowd with memories of a worse scandal.

  Daniel came closer, serenading her. The sweet notes of the violin were pure and touched her heart deeply. Did he love her? Could she risk telling him how she felt?

  “He’s quite good,” said a dry voice in her ear.

  She barely glanced at her brother, so focused was she on Daniel and the soothing effect he and his mother were having on the hundreds of assembled guests.

  Then Grace looked more closely at her brother and saw a spot of blood in the corner of his mouth. “What did you do to yourself?” she demanded in a whisper.

  “Showed Jenkins what happens when he hurts a Banbury.”

  She gaped at him. “You fought with him? Here?”

  “Landed some really good blows,” Edward said cockily, grinning down at Miss Hutton, who was full of admiration. “He only managed to hit me once. And the conservatory was quite empty, what with the show Throckmorten is putting on.”

  “You poor man!” Miss Hutton said, reaching up with her handkerchief to dab at his lip.

  Grace blinked as she turned from Miss Hutton to Edward, who grinned back at her. He was going to be all right, in more ways than one. And so much of it was because of Daniel.

  The last notes of the piece rang in the air, and the applause seemed more than just polite, easing Grace’s fears. Daniel came toward their small group, and to her surprise, he handed Edward the violin.

  “Thank you for allowing me to borrow this,” he said.

  Edward’s expression was guarded, and Grace held her breath, but gradually he relaxed and smiled. “You’re welcome. But whatever else you’ve borrowed, you have to keep.”

  Grace knew her face flamed red.

  Daniel looked right at her, not bothering to hide the way his dark eyes smoldered at her. “I intend to.”

  She didn’t know what to do with herself, how she should behave. She had no secrets left to weigh her down, and she felt like she was floating, waiting for an anchor to claim her.

  Daniel took both her hands in his.

  “Oh, you shouldn’t do this,” she said, feeling suddenly shy, knowing how many people were watching them. “You’ve done too much for me tonight. I feel like it’s my fault that you and your mother tried to renew an old scandal.”

  “That wasn’t a scandal. It was just my family, doing what we do best.” He smiled tenderly at her. “Why don’t you marry me and join two scandalous families? Maybe we could even be the normal couple. Unless you’re too afraid to start a new scandal by marrying me?”

  Beverly was waving her offer of a handkerchief, and Grace realized that tears were still streaming down her face, but she didn’t care who saw.

  “Oh, Daniel, if you love me,” she said softly, “then I can bear anything.”

  He cupped her face in his hands. “Sweet Grace, I have fallen in love with you, with your generous heart and the way you care about everyone more than yourself. You would do anything to protect your family, and I would be proud to be one of them.”

  “But you’ve spent your life trying to protect your own family—perhaps not the same way I did,” she added, grinning. “But you’ve made me see that I’ve been trying to please other people, as if I had to fix everything, as if I didn’t deserve to be happy.”

  His eyes searched her face. “Will you be happy with me, Grace?”

  “Oh yes,” she whispered, and when he kissed her, she gladly leaned into him.

  Someone cleared his throat, and they both looked up into the face of the duke of Madingley.

  “Is this correct behavior for a ball?” he asked, his expression impassive, even though his dark eyes twinkled.

  “It is for a Madingley Ball,” Lady Elizabeth piped up. “It’s everything I ever dreamed of!”

  Grace and Daniel laughed, accepting the well wishes of the family and friends gathered around them. When they had a moment to breathe, she turned to him and said, “You know, life with me won’t be easy. You forget that I have a mother, too.”

  “How could I forget your mother after such a memorable introduction? Don’t worry, I have the perfect little property picked out for her. I’ll even give her a little spending money.”

  “Do you trust her with a home of yours?” Grace asked in disbelief.

  “I have to reward her—she’s the reason I have you.” He kissed her lightly on the mouth. “But we can’t possibly have her living with us—she’d teach the children how to gamble.”

  Grace laughed. With Daniel’s arm around her shoulders, she felt sheltered from the world—and loved.

  About the Author

  After a detour through fitness instructing and computer programming, GAYLE CALLEN found the life she’d always dreamed of as a romance writer. This USA Today bestselling author has written thirteen historical romances for Avon Books, and her novels have won the Holt Medallion and the Laurel Wreath Award.

  Gayle lives in central New York with her three children; her dog, Apollo; and her husband, Jim, the Romance Hero.

  Visit her website at www.gaylecallen.com.

  Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.

  By Gayle Callen

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  Copyright

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  NEVER TRUST A SCOUNDREL. Copyright © 2008 by Gayle Kloecker Callen. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or intr
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  EPub © Edition FEBRUARY 2008 ISBN: 9780061736384

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