by Laura Landon
“No. Please, wake up.”
He would have none of it and rolled her onto her back, preparing to ply his kisses. But this time his eyes opened and he looked at her. Confusion filled his gaze. He had no idea who she was. Where he was. How he’d managed to find himself here.
“Please, let me up,” she begged, and he started to obey her, but not in time.
At that moment the door flew open and Lady Blanche stepped inside. “No!” she cried, her voice reaching hysterical heights.
Suddenly, a growing crowd of nobility stood inside the room, filling it with their stifled gasps, their mouths hanging open.
“Who is she?” someone in the crowd asked.
There were several who answered they didn’t know who the girl was and Nella was thankful. She crawled gracelessly from beneath Lord Carmichael and thought perhaps she could escape without being identified. But that wasn’t about to happen.
“She’s the Earl of Shelton’s eldest daughter.”
There was a chorus of ‘oos’ and ‘ohs’ followed by the suggestion that someone fetch her father.
Nella wanted to run. She tried to make her way to the door, but a hand reached out to stop her.
“Oh, no you don’t, young lady. You will stay to face the consequences.”
Nella looked up into the face of the woman who had proclaimed herself the arbiter of Nella’s fate.
“Nothing happened, my lady. It isn’t at all what it seems.”
“That’s hardly likely,” clucked Lady Gladmoore, the ton’s biggest gossip. “Considering your torn gown, flushed cheeks, and swollen lips.”
“Petronella?” her father said as he entered the room. “What is going on here?” he added in an angry tone Nella rarely heard him use.
“Nothing, Papa. Nothing. It’s not at all what it seems. Nothing inappropriate happened. Nothing at all.”
As she spoke, she began to slowly realize her lie. Something inappropriate had indeed happened—as was evidenced by her torn gown. She raised a hand to cover her bared shoulder.
Lady Gladmoore stepped forward. “That’s not what we saw, Lord Shelton. Your daughter’s been ruined. The lot of us opened the door to discover your daughter on the floor with the Earl of Danvers on top of her.”
Every pair of eyes turned to stare at her. The earl’s head swung in her direction, as well.
Nella thought she might die of embarrassment. Not because of the condescending looks from the members of Society. But because of the look of horror and disgust she saw in Lord Danvers’ eyes.
The man of her dreams raked his hand down his face and shook his head. He was slowly coming awake and stared at her as if nothing made sense. She realized he couldn’t believe what had just happened.
Nella had never been so humiliated in her life. She knew what he was thinking. Knew from the expression on his face that he realized his world had just crashed down around his feet.
He slowly rose and turned to face her father. “Lord Shelton?”
“Yes, Lord Danvers.”
“Please, allow me to call on you tomorrow afternoon.”
“No!” Nella cried. “Nothing happened, I tell you.”
“I will be expecting you,” her father answered to Lord Danvers’ retreating back.
“No,” Nella whimpered, but her father clamped his fingers around Nella’s arm and ordered her to keep quiet.
“No, Papa. I will not! Because nothing happened.”
But no one heard her entreaty. And just that fast, it was over. She was ruined…
…and so was Lord James Carmichael, Earl of Danvers.
Chapter 2
Danvers, woke with a stampede of renegade beasts thundering between his ears.
“The Lords Candleton and Pomeroy are waiting in your study,” his butler announced in a voice so loud it echoed in the room.
“Very good, Hudson.”
James reached for the coffee Hudson had placed on his bedside table and took a hefty swallow.
He swung his feet over the side of the bed, then stood.
The room spun in circles going to the right while the floor seemed to move in the opposite direction.
“Bloody hell,” he growled, pressing a hand to his head. He dropped back down on the bed and waited for the room to stop spinning. When he thought he might have the movement under control, he rose to his feet and called for his valet.
He quickly washed and dressed, then went down the stairs and walked to his study. His longtime friends Richard Willoby, Earl of Candleton, and Vincent Scotshire, Viscount Pomeroy, sat in two of the three chairs clustered before the fire. When Danvers entered the room, Candleton and Pomeroy broke out in wide smiles.
“I say, Danvers. You look like hell.”
“That’s much improved from how I feel.”
“That bad, eh?”
“What happened last night?”
“How much of it do you remember?” Pomeroy asked.
“Very little before I returned home.”
“Oh, then you missed the good part,” Candleton said on a laugh.
Danvers poured himself a steaming cup of coffee. What he wanted was a glass of brandy, but the thought of drinking so early in the day turned his stomach. “What’s the good part?”
“You’ve become an engaged man, my friend,” Pomeroy announced.
“Bloody hell. I’d hoped that was only a nightmare.”
“You might think so when you hear who you got yourself engaged to,” Candleton answered.
James lifted his gaze. “Who?”
“Should we tell him?” Lord Pomeroy said. “Or keep him in suspense a while longer?”
“He looks like he’s in enough misery,” Candleton said on a chuckle. “I think we should—”
“Who!” James bellowed, and his head felt as if it might explode.
“Lady Petronella Westerly,” his friends said in unison.
“Who?” James tried to put a face to the name but couldn’t.
Candleton leaned forward in his chair. “Lady Petronella Westerly. The Earl of Shelton’s eldest daughter.”
“I’m afraid I can’t place her. Describe her to me.”
Candleton began the description. “About five foot seven. Twenty-three, maybe twenty-five years old.”
“So far so good,” James said. “Although I’d rather she were a little younger. Go on.”
“Fair hair, the color of year-old straw, dark eyes and a turned up nose,” he continued. “Are you sure you don’t know her?”
“I’m sure. Go on. What is it you’re avoiding?”
“She’s considered one of the wallflowers. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen her dance.”
James frowned. There was something Candleton avoided telling him. “Go on, man. Tell me the worst of it.”
“She’s not exactly ugly…”
James closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure he was prepared for this. “But she’s not considered a beauty,” he finished for his friend.
“Definitely not a beauty,” Candleton said on a sigh. “And…”
“There’s more?”
Candleton nodded.
A weight fell to the pit of Danvers’ stomach. “Out with it.”
“She’s…um…she’s…”
“What!”
“Not thin,” Pomeroy finished.
“What does that mean? She’s not thin?”
“It means she more than likely outweighs you by a stone,” Candleton finished.
“What!”
“She’s quite round,” Pomeroy said to soften Candleton’s description.
Danvers rose to his feet and walked to the fireplace. He braced his hands on the mantel and dropped his head between his outstretched arms.
“How am I going to get out of this, my friends?”
“I don’t know,” Pomeroy offered. “I’m afraid you might not be able to.”
Candleton leaned forward and added to the conversation. “Rumor has it the chit hasn’t had a suitor in her five Lond
on Seasons. No doubt her father is more than pleased that he can finally get her off his hands and concentrate on marrying off her four other sisters.”
“There is no doubt that you compromised the lady good and proper,” Pomeroy added.
“Explain good and proper.”
“When we walked through the door, you and the lady were on the floor and you were lying on top of her.”
“Bloody hell!” James closed his eyes and let the damning truth sink into his brain. “Why don’t I remember this? What happened?”
“We think you were drugged.”
“Drugged? By whom?”
Candleton shook his head. “I don’t know. The lady says she didn’t drug you but—”
“Well, someone sure the hell did!” Danvers yelled, clutching his head.
“I know. But, she and her friends claim it wasn’t her.”
James raked his fingers through his hair. “What am I going to do?”
“If you want my opinion,” Pomeroy said, “you only have two choices.”
“What two choices?”
“You can either sail on the first ship out of England. My suggestion is to go to France or America and stay there for several years, until this entire scandal is dead and forgotten. Or…”
“Or?” James asked.
“You can marry the chit.”
Danvers stared at his two friends as if they’d both grown two heads. “I am not the sort to run and you know it.”
“Oh, and Danvers, you should stop by your aunt’s town house on your way to Lord Shelton’s. She was there, you know,” Pomeroy said.
“My aunt was there last night? She saw…”
“Everything,” Candleton confirmed. “And I daresay she wasn’t pleased.”
James raked his fingers through his hair and sat in the chair between his two friends. He placed his forearms on his thighs and stared at the carpet until the paisley pattern swam before his eyes.
“She asked us to give you a message,” Pomeroy said. “She said she wanted you to talk to her before you did anything irresponsible.”
Candleton and Pomeroy got to their feet. “We’d best be on our way, Danvers. You have a busy day ahead of you.”
He heard his friends walk across the room, then close the door behind them. And James was alone.
Alone with his nightmare.
~■~
James dressed in his finest dark blue frock coat, checked that his top hat was meticulously brushed and his lavender gloves spotless, then traveled to his aunt’s town house. Having to speak to Lord Shelton after he’d ruined the man’s daughter wouldn’t be half so difficult as having to face his aunt.
His aunt, the Lady Angela Morningside, dowager Countess of Newbury, was his sole remaining relative. She was his father’s sister and had been a mother to him after his own mother died when James was only twelve. She’d also been more of a father to him than his real father had been. He’d died five years after his wife.
If it hadn’t been for his Aunt Angela, James wasn’t sure what would have become of him. If there was one person in the entire world he didn’t want to disappoint, his Aunt Angela was that person.
His carriage came to a stop in front of his aunt’s town house and James stepped to the curb. He took a deep breath, then walked to the front door.
It opened before he had to reach for the knocker and James stepped into the foyer.
“Her ladyship is expecting you, my lord,” her butler said, then closed the door and led James to the drawing room.
“Thank you, Perkins.”
Perkins rapped on the door once, then opened it.
“Lord Danvers to see you, my lady.”
“Thank you, Perkins. No need for tea.”
“Yes, my lady.”
The butler nodded respectfully then backed out of the room, and James was alone with his aunt. She hadn’t asked for tea. This was going to be an upbraiding and nothing more.
James was suddenly even more uncomfortable.
“Sit down, James,” she said pointing to the chair next to hers.
He walked to where she’d indicated and sat.
“Well, my boy. You’re in a fine pickle, I must say.”
James opened his mouth to speak but closed it again. He didn’t have a leg to stand on.
“Why don’t you explain what happened last night?” his aunt said.
“I wish I could, Aunt. But I don’t remember the happenings of last night.”
“What was the cause of that, do you think?”
“I believe I was drugged.”
“By whom?”
James brushed a hand across his temple. “I don’t know.”
“Do you think it could have been Lady Petronella Westerly?”
James shrugged his shoulders. “Most likely it was. Who else could it have been?”
“So, what is it you intend to do?”
“What options are open to me, Aunt?”
“Come, walk with me,” his aunt said, more as a command than a request.
James rose and led his aunt to the double doors that led out to the garden. It was early autumn and the flowers that had been in full bloom throughout the summer were losing their vibrant colors as well as their fullness. It seemed appropriate to James’ bleak mood.
When they reached the cobblestone path, they walked deep into the garden. A white wooden gazebo overlooked a pond in the middle of the garden. His aunt stepped up the two narrow stairs and sat on a wooden bench that outlined the perimeter of the small pavilion he’d practically lived in as a child.
“You have always been as a son to me, James.” She spoke with a wistful smile.
“As you have been mother and father to me, Aunt.”
She reached over to pat his hand.
“You know I love you and only want you to do what will make you happy.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Although I’ve heard rumors of your ill-disciplined lifestyle and have been aware of the scandals in which you’ve involved yourself, I have tried not to interfere in your life. I considered your escapades part of a young man sowing his wild oats.”
James flinched. “Yes, I have sown my share of wild oats, Aunt. But I’m afraid last night had nothing to do with sowing wild oats. I truly believe I was tricked.”
“And if you were?”
“Then I must consider calling the girl out and forcing her to publicly admit she intentionally drugged me to force a marriage.”
“No.”
James jerked his head to the side to look at his aunt. He was sure he’d misheard her. Surely she didn’t intend to force him to marry the girl. Not after what she’d done. Not a girl he’d never met before and had nothing in common with. Not a girl who was someone he could not tolerate looking at every morning and evening for the rest of his life.
“What?” he asked. “Why?”
“Because your good name will be ruined if you fail to do your duty. Even if you can force her to publicly admit she tricked you, your reputation will be forever tarnished. Besides, I’m told the girl in question is a young lady of culture and refinement. Under the circumstances, you could do no better.”
A rock fell to the pit of his stomach and he found it difficult to breath. He had known his aunt would be disappointed in him but he had been certain that once she understood what had happened she would agree with his decision not to fall into the maiden’s trap. Instead, she intended to force him to marry.
“And if I don’t?”
“You will force me to do something I never thought I would consider doing.”
“What is that, Aunt?”
“You know that as you are my closest living relative, I intend to leave you my fortune and estate.”
“Are you saying that if I don’t marry the girl you will disown me?”
After a slight hesitation his aunt answered. “Yes. That is what I’m saying.”
James rose to his feet, desperately controlling the panic that welled within him. He w
alked to the edge of the gazebo and braced his hands on the two wooden beams that lined the open entryway. “May I ask why?” he ventured.
“Because you are the only one who can keep the girl from being cast on Society’s dung heap. Because you are the only one who can save your own future from being consigned to tittle-tattle.”
She gave him a piercing look. “And because I think marrying the girl is the only decision you will be able to live with.”
Chapter 3
Nella sat in her bedchamber and watched out the window. The Earl of Danvers had arrived nearly an hour ago and was still with her father. They were discussing the details of her marriage to Danvers. A marriage that would never take place.
Nella leaned her forehead against the window pane and let the glass cool her warm flesh. Autumn was coming earlier than usual this year. Even though the sun was out, it wasn’t strong enough to warm the air. The days were cool and the evenings cooler yet.
Or, perhaps the coolness was a harbinger of the events of the day.
“Papa wants you to join him in his study, Nella,” her sister Evangeline said after she opened the door.
Nella took two steps toward her.
“Oh, Nella,” Evie said on a sigh. “You are the most envied female in all of London. Lord Danvers is the most handsome man in the world, and every female has been vying for his hand for the past several Seasons. I can’t believe you will be his bride.”
Nella didn’t say anything. How could she? She hadn’t won his affection. She’d won his hand through trickery and deceit. He didn’t care for her. After what had happened, he probably even hated her.
Truth be told, he didn’t even know who she was. He’d never paid her the least bit of attention. And wouldn’t even now if he hadn’t been drugged.
Nella made her way out the door and down the stairs. Over and over she told herself she only had to endure the next few minutes and this would be over. Once she refused his suit she could escape to the country and hide away for the rest of her life. Her father had already forewarned her that this would be her last Season. Nothing had changed except that for her, this Season had ended several weeks earlier than usual. She couldn’t be terribly disappointed in that.
She reached the bottom of the stairs and walked to her father’s study. She entered when a footman opened the door.