by Merry Farmer
Everything about Lenore was exactly what he’d been looking for in a bride since coming to London. She was so far from the simpering debutantes that waltzed through the season, pretending to be delicate and retiring while actually being as merciless as a general at war as they maneuvered their way into what they considered an ideal marriage. Lenore had life to her that far surpassed the airs and graces of every other middle-class maiden, whose mama thought his meager title was a step up, that had been thrown at him. And yes, the money she brought with her as a Dollar Princess was essential to his needs. But he had the feeling he’d marry her if she was penniless, if only to have her under him on a nightly basis.
He let his imagination wander to the ecstatic pinch of her face as she’d come last night, stroking himself mercilessly as he did, and finally spent in his hand with a grunt as he dared to imagine what she would look like with his cock deep in her mouth. Any other woman would probably faint if she knew he imagined her that way, but Phin had the feeling Lenore would be titillated and rise to meet his expectations by making his fantasy a reality. She’d find a way to turn those tables on him and leave him completely at her mercy in spite of being on her knees. That thought kept a lazy smile on his face as he dozed for a few more minutes. Lenore was feisty, and he had the distinct feeling she could be just as wicked as he was.
It was the sound of Dora, his maid, cleaning up the dining room downstairs that finally shook Phin to full wakefulness. He realized with a wry grin as he rolled out of bed and went to his washstand that he and Lenore had left their meal half-devoured on the table with the candles still lit. At worst, they could have burnt the house down. At best, Dora would guess why supper had been interrupted. Not that she would mind. He’d hired the young woman for her loyalty and discretion, and he trusted her to keep herself to herself.
By the time he made it downstairs, washed, dressed, and groomed for the day, Dora had moved on to dusting the parlor and barely took notice of him as he wandered into the kitchen for a cup of tea and whatever leftovers Mrs. Wallace, his cook, had saved aside for his breakfast.
“You’re looking rather chipper this morning,” Mrs. Wallace noted with a knowing grin. “But I’m vexed with you.”
“Whatever did I do to earn such censure?” Phin asked the matronly woman, unable to hide the grin that said he knew exactly what she was on about. They’d long since set aside the formalities their difference in class warranted in favor of brutal honesty, which was, Phin was convinced, why she stayed on with him when he couldn’t pay her as much as she was worth.
Mrs. Wallace huffed a laugh and shook her head. “That was a perfectly good chicken I roasted up for you last night, and you left it like it was dog’s meat.”
“I skipped straight to dessert,” he told her with a wink, kissing her on the cheek, then taking his tea and a bun out to his study. God bless all good and loyal servants, especially the ones who were as amused by their employer’s antics as they were by any stage show to be had.
Even though Phin’s mind swarmed with a thousand ideas for new Nocturne stories based on Lenore, he found he didn’t have the patience to write more than a few notes after sitting down at his desk. His mind was made up, and the more he thought about it—the more he thought about Lenore—the less he felt like waiting to get on with things. He’d spent over a year ostensibly searching for a bride already, and now that he’d found the only woman he could ever see himself settling down and building a life with, there was no point in waiting. After all, someone had to get down to the business of creating an heir to the Mercer title and estate, such as they were. God knew Lionel wasn’t going to do it.
Phin finished his tea and bun and returned the dishes to the kitchen, then donned his coat and hat and set out into the wilds of London. It wasn’t until he was halfway down his own street that he realized he wasn’t entirely certain where Lenore lived. Good sense and propriety said she would live at her fake soon-to-be sister-in-law’s house. Freddy Herrington was known to be living with his sister, Lady O’Shea, and her husband. But Phin was certain that Freddy actually lived with Reese Howsden at his townhome. Considering that Lenore was as thick as thieves with the two men, it was as likely as not that Lenore lived there.
Which was how he found himself in the middle of Mayfair, knocking on Reese Howsden’s front door.
“By any chance is Miss Lenore Garrett home?” he asked Reese’s stone-faced butler when the man opened the door.
The butler stared thoughtfully at Phin for several, anxious seconds before stepping back and saying, “Do come in, Mr. Mercer.”
Phin arched an eyebrow and followed the man’s instructions with a certain degree of foreboding. Not many of the butlers in fine homes across Mayfair knew who he was, and even fewer would have been willing to let him in without an invitation. Particularly when he wasn’t asking to see the person who actually lived in the house.
Without a word, the butler escorted Phin down the hall to a well-appointed parlor that faced a sunny courtyard. It was decorated with the fastidious good taste of someone who knew how to blend fashion with comfort. Phin instantly thought that Lionel would approve.
“Mr. Mercer, my lord,” the butler announced to the room’s occupant, Freddy Herrington.
Phin couldn’t help but grin to himself. He’d guessed right. Freddy sat near the fire with an infant girl in his lap, reading a picture book to her, though she was far too young to appreciate more than the pretty colors the book was likely to contain. Freddy seemed to be in absolute heaven, and glanced up to Phin with a smile as the butler nodded and left the two of them alone.
“Mercer,” Freddy said, shuffling the baby and the book in his arms so that he could put the book down and hold the baby against his shoulder as he stood. “Reese owes me ten pounds.”
Phin blinked at the unusual statement, but he shook Freddy’s hand all the same when the man crossed the room and extended it. “I beg your pardon?” he asked instead of giving the man a proper greeting.
“I bet Reese ten pounds that you’d show up on our doorstep this morning, searching for Lenore,” Freddy explained, his smile victorious and completely nonjudgmental. “Though, since Reese more or less pays for me to exist anyhow, it isn’t much of a victory,” he added.
Phin’s mouth dropped open, but he couldn’t think of a damned thing to say to such a personal admission.
“Oh, come now,” Freddy said with a sardonic look, gesturing for Phin to take a seat in the chair opposite the one where he sat with the baby. “I have it on good authority that you are the sort who has guessed everything already and doesn’t care at all how others live.”
The sharpness in Freddy’s eyes said much more than that. It said that he had asked around about Phin and had gotten more than a few answers that meant Phin had as many secrets to keep as Freddy and Reese did. Paradoxically, it made Phin feel instantly at ease.
Phin didn’t sit. Instead he said, “I’ve come to speak with Lenore, actually.”
“She isn’t here,” Freddy said, repositioning the gurgling baby on his knee.
“Oh. Perhaps I guessed wrong, then. Is she staying with your sister?” Phin asked.
“No, she lives here, with us,” Freddy admitted. “Don’t go alerting the press,” he added with a telling grin.
As cheering as it was to see Freddy in such good spirits, Phin felt more baffled and off-kilter than ever. “I was hoping to speak to Lenore on a matter of some delicacy,” he said.
“She’s gone to Trafalgar Square,” Freddy told him, most of his attention focused on the baby. “The May Flowers are having some sort of a rally in support of women’s suffrage.”
“I see.” Phin nodded slightly. “I guess I’ll take myself there, then.”
He started to go, but Freddy stopped him with, “Not so fast. I have a second bet with Reese about the reason why you would show up on our doorstep this morning.”
Phin turned back to him. Freddy’s smile was not the sort that was intended to make fu
n of him, so Phin squared his shoulders and faced the man as the friend he was now certain Freddy was. “Tell me what you think my reason is and I’ll tell you whether your lover owes you another ten pounds.”
His words were deliberate. By telling Freddy bluntly that he knew where things stood between him and Reese—not to mention between him and Lenore—he was laying all of his cards on the table and identifying himself as an ally.
Freddy knew it too. He arched one eyebrow slightly, then took a breath and went on as though the exchange had never happened. “You’ve come to ask Lenore to marry you. At least, that’s what I wagered would be your reason for darkening our doorstep this morning.”
Odd prickles raced down Phin’s back. “You’re correct,” he said with a nod of concession.
Freddy’s grin widened. “Reese and I decided to wait up for Lenore last night so that we could play the role of disapproving fathers and tease her into oblivion for returning so late.” His eyes danced with mischief as he recounted the story. Phin liked him more than ever. “We were handsomely rewarded for our efforts too. She came back looking thoroughly debauched and stammered her way through half a dozen pitiful lies by way of explanation before wriggling away from us and going to bed. Well done, sir.”
It was absolutely ludicrous, but Phin found himself grinning proudly and bowing, one man acknowledging the praise of another for seducing his fiancée. “I have never had any complaints,” he said as he rose.
“No, and nor do I think Lenore will have once she accepts your suit,” Freddy laughed. “I haven’t seen her look that pleased with herself since meeting her, and that’s saying something.”
Phin found the compliment strangely encouraging, even though the conversation he was having ranked among the most bizarre he had ever had or likely ever would have. One simply didn’t inform a woman’s fiancé he intended to marry her. “If that’s the case,” he said, wincing slightly, “and assuming Lenore agrees, how would you like to proceed?”
Freddy shrugged. “Carefully. More reputations than just ours are at stake in this game, of course.”
Phin nodded, understanding. With the entire picture clear in his mind now, it was obvious that Freddy and Lenore’s engagement was purposefully intended to deflect suspicion away from Freddy’s relationship with Reese. Which meant that in order for that suspicion to continue to be deflected, an ironclad story would need to be concocted about why Lenore threw Freddy, an earl, over for the son of a mere baronet.
“Perhaps I should sort things out with Lenore first,” Phin said. “She’s enough of a minx to come up with the perfect explanation for the mad business.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Freddy said, just as the baby decided, for no apparent reason at all, to cry. “Rose, darling, I swear to you, your good name will not be sullied as the silly adults play their silly games,” he told her.
Phin couldn’t help but smile as baby Rose fussed even more. “I’ll leave you to your company, if you don’t mind,” he said stepping sideways and heading toward the hall. “I’m off to Trafalgar Square to ask an engaged woman to throw over her fiancé for me.”
Freddy laughed, but he wasn’t capable of much more of a goodbye, as Rose needed his full attention. Phin saluted him one last time, then hurried out to the hall. As soon as the butler showed him to the door, he turned his steps toward Trafalgar Square, feeling strangely uplifted by the odd conversation he’d just had. Life was as twisted as a maze, and anyone who didn’t explore it thoroughly was missing out on some of the finer things it had to offer. He pitied the proper men and women he passed in the street on his way to Trafalgar Square. Their lives might have been the sort of thing that earned them praise on a Sunday or that fell in line with what all of the moralizing pamphleteers wrote about, but he doubted they were anywhere near as fun.
Trafalgar Square was a mash of people from all walks of life, as it usually was, as Phin joined the throng. Street performers mingled with ladies and gentlemen in the latest fashions from the continent. Men and women with every color of skin and dressed in the style of every imaginable nation blended in with working-class folk selling everything from souvenir post cards to roasted nuts. A Salvation Army band made an ungodly racket near the steps of St. Martin in the Fields while at least three other speakers commanded the attention of miniature crowds spread out in front of the National Gallery. And there, in the midst of it all, were the unmistakable ladies of The May Flowers in their bright colors and plumed hats. The flower of the week each of them wore pinned to their bodices was a fetching, autumnal chrysanthemum blossom.
Phin warmed at the sight of them, not only because Lenore stood out prominently among their ranks as they lined up behind Lady Diana Pickwick near the edge of the fountain. Whereas half or more of the men listening to Lady Diana’s speech shook their heads and frowned in dismay, Phin loved the fact that women were finally speaking up and getting the voice they so deserved. He wasn’t progressive only when it came to nocturnal activities and salacious publications. He would have been the first to line up to vote for whatever measure in Parliament would give women an equal say, if his father’s title had been enough to give him a peerage. Men like him did exist, they were just so badly outnumbered at present that he felt as rare as a kangaroo in the arctic.
“Which is why, dear friends, women’s suffrage must be taken seriously,” Lady Diana raged, seeming to come near to the end of her speech. Behind her, Lenore’s face brightened, then turned scarlet, as she spotted Phin. “We must be given the right to vote.”
Lady Diana’s words were followed by a round of applause and boos before those listening to the speech moved on to the next diversion with almost laughable speed. Lenore said something to one of her friends, then hurried away from the crowd of May Flowers who rallied around Lady Diana as the meeting broke up.
“What are you doing here?” Lenore asked, all brightness and beauty with a little bit of sheepishness that Phin found utterly charming.
“Your esteemed fiancé told me I would find you here,” he said with a rakish grin.
“How very kind of Freddy,” Lenore said in a flat voice, pretending to frown, though her eyes gave away her amusement. “I shall be sure to thank him profusely once I return home.”
“Why don’t I walk you there?” Phin offered his arm. “I have something quite delicate I’d like to discuss with you.” There was no point wasting time with his declaration, not when Freddy already knew what he intended.
“I should really stay and support Diana and the others as they canvas the crowd,” Lenore said, looking as though she’d rather come with him. She took his arm all the same, though. “Diana has put so much work into—”
“It was you, I know it was.”
Lenore stopped cold and Phin’s attention was snagged as well as none other than Lady Hamilton marched straight up to Lady Diana wagging a finger in her face. Phin exchanged a startled look with Lenore before they gave their full attention to the confrontation.
“I’ll find you out, you know,” Lady Hamilton railed on. “Only a woman as brazen as the head of the May Flowers would dare to publish such trash. You’re likely using it to fund your cabal’s nefarious schemes.”
“Good heavens.” Lady Diana pressed a hand to her chest. “I have no idea what you could mean, my lady.”
“Don’t play innocent with me,” Lady Hamilton said. “Either I will find you out or Detective Gleason will.” She turned to pull forward a nondescript man who was lingering behind her. Phin had assumed the man was merely watching the unfolding scene, but as soon as Lady Hamilton drew attention to him, he straightened and nodded respectfully to Lady Diana. “Det. Gleason is one of the finest private investigators in London. I’ve hired him to get to the bottom of this ordeal and to expose the author of the salacious libel hurled against my daughter.”
Lenore snorted with laughter. “Oh dear. Did you hear that?”
She turned to Phin, but Phin wasn’t laughing. In fact, his stomach felt as though so
meone had poured molten lead into it. The very last thing he needed was a private investigator on his tail. Lady Hamilton on her own was one thing, but Lady Hamilton combined with someone who might actually know what they were doing was a disaster.
Lenore’s laughter turned to a disdainful stare, and she rolled her eyes. “Come on, man. Now is your chance.”
“My chance for what?” Phin asked her, one eyebrow arched.
“To make yourself known. To claim all of the fame and glory of being the author of Nocturne for yourself. Here. I’ll get you started. Over here.” She raised her hand and waved as if to draw everyone’s attention.
Phin grabbed her arm and wrenched it down to her side so fast he feared for a moment that he might have hurt her. “Hush,” he warned her. “You can’t say a word.”
Lenore spun to face him, eyes wide. “Whyever not? You’d be famous.”
“For all the wrong reasons,” Phin said, stepping closer to her. “I am not the only one whose livelihood is at stake here, should Lady Hamilton follow through with her threats to press charges.”
“You’re not?” The reality of the situation seemed to slowly dawn in Lenore’s eyes. She glanced around as if checking to see if anyone had noticed her efforts to draw attention to him. Fortunately, the square was so crowded and there was so much going on that one more outburst drew almost no attention at all.
“I rely on the money Nocturne earns to send home to my ailing father and three sisters,” Phin said under his breath. If he was going to make Lenore his wife, she would need to know the full story of his reality. “They have no means of income other than what I and my brother can send home, and Lionel has recently left a relatively lucrative career, if that’s what you would call it, to work in a decidedly less glamorous role as a legal clerk.”
“Oh, I see.” Lenore stood closer to him as well, but she continued to look around.