Lord of Sin

by Boyd, Heather

  “You want me to introduce you to a young lady.”

  “Indeed. Her name is Miss Waters. She is new to Town. I believe you have an acquaintance with her, and her aunt and uncle.”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Lowell are old acquaintances of mine from the north.” Lady Ettington glanced past him, and her brow furrowed. “Oh dear. Regina is hugging the shadows behind her aunt again. No one will notice her there. But tell me, why have you noticed her?”

  The marchioness was perceptive, which is what had made her a perfect partner for the marquess. “I made a promise to a friend to dance with Miss Waters, but it must be tonight,” he quickly explained.

  The marchioness looked him up and down, then smiled. “I would be happy to. How would you like to proceed? It would look odd to just march up to her.”

  He thought so, too. Rushing at her would be unseemly and suggest he was desperate to win her favor. “Perhaps you’d care to take a turn about the room, so our introduction does not look so obvious,” he said quickly.

  “You’ve done this before,” Lady Ettington murmured as she slipped her arm through his. “How many times have you danced with a wallflower to make them seen?”

  He shrugged. “Once or twice.”

  “Oh, more than that I would wager.” She laughed softly. “Since our last conversation all those years ago, I’ve made a point of paying attention to where you are—for safety’s sake, you understand.”

  He nodded, but wondered how long she’d hold his prior behavior against him. “I’ll never harm you again, I swear. I never meant to in the first place.”

  She glanced up at him, her eyes boring into his. “You dance with a lot of wallflowers but never end up married to any. Why?”

  He shrugged again. “What can I say, their taste in men is appalling.”

  The marchioness faced forward, nodding to acquaintances as they passed. “The ones I noticed you spending the most time with ended up marrying for love.”

  “Foolishness,” he murmured, hoping the lady would not question him so closely about his business. He was usually very quick to spot the signs of an ardent infatuation in his friends and acquaintances. He might have even nudged more than a few along to a satisfying conclusion. It was a family habit. Aunt Hesper had it down to a fine art.

  “I knew Miss Waters’ parents very well. They were neighbors to my childhood home but both died last year in a carriage accident. Regina is of age, but remains under the protection of her maternal aunt and uncle. They are good people, but not familiar with the ways of the ton. She has a dowry, of course, enough to interest a great many gentlemen who might court her. She is staying with us as our guest for the month.”

  “Having the Marchioness of Ettington’s stamp of approval will ensure she is married quickly,” he murmured.

  “Speed is not important so long as she is made happy,” Lady Ettington replied. “I trust you will keep that in mind and not lead her to imagine you have intentions when you do not.”

  “I would never do so,” he promised. He glanced down at the lady on his arm and smiled. “You are very wise.”

  An impish smile crossed her lips, and then she laughed. “I know.”

  Julian laughed along with her and looked ahead with newfound excitement for the evening. If he had just reclaimed the marchioness’ approval, he may find that her help might see him happily matched one day, too. At the moment, he was more interested in this new matchmaking scheme. He had no idea who would do for Miss Waters but by the end of the night, he might.

  They finally reached the location of his quarry, and the aunt was very quick to catch the marchioness’ attention and begin talking. The marchioness was very gracious and kind to a woman clearly out of her depth in such company.

  Lady Ettington patted the woman’s arm and smiled. “My dear, I trust you are enjoying the party.”

  “Indeed we are,” the uncle enthused, looking around with wide-eyed wonder.

  Wade kept his place, striving to seem bored but noticing everything. The debutante blushed at the first mention of her name in the conversation but spoke well for herself. When finally Lady Ettington introduced him to them, describing him as a fine gentleman and a close friend, Regina Waters reddened quite a bit.

  He bowed over Miss Waters’ hand to hide his amusement. Virgins were so easy to spot in a room with more experienced and bored women for comparison.

  When he asked her to dance, Miss Waters looked to her aunt for permission.

  “He is a friend of the marchioness, so of course we are delighted,” the aunt said boldly, winking to the marchioness.

  Julian shifted uncomfortably. He was only trying to dance with the girl, not commit to marry her. She had a good-sized dowry, and if that had been all important, he might have done his best to sweep her off her feet there and then.

  They said their goodbyes, promising to return for the dance before supper, but after a few steps on his arm, Lady Ettington began to chuckle.

  Julian glanced at her inquiringly. “Did I miss the joke, my lady?”

  Lady Ettington’s grin grew positively evil. “Oh, forgiving you was well worth witnessing your terror just now.”

  He sighed, which made her laugh all the harder.

  As they continued their saunter about the room, pausing to speak with mutual acquaintances, the marchioness slowly settled. “It’s not like you’ve never known that one day you’d marry. I swear all men think it’s so far in their future it doesn’t concern them at all. However, when faced with a lady they find interesting, they get tongue-tied. You used to talk more.”

  “Did I?” He glanced back over his shoulder, noticing Miss Waters watching him. He nodded and looked away. She was pretty but…she did not stir his blood. Not the way Portia always had. Perhaps a longer acquaintance would improve his attraction to her. “Perhaps next time.”

  When they reached the Marquess of Ettington, Julian’s stomach fluttered momentarily with anxiety. The marquess’ expression was utterly frosty tonight. Ettington was not a man to offend, and everyone knew that. However, his wife rushed to her husband and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “Be nice. We are friends again.”

  “If you say so,” Ettington murmured, and the frost melted away as he smiled down on his wife. “What have you been up to?”

  “A bit of this, a bit of that. I’ll tell you all about it later,” she promised, patting Ettington’s expensively tailored chest.

  Julian bowed deeply and excused himself just as quickly. He sauntered toward the nearest servant holding champagne and took up a glass from the tray. He found a quiet spot to wait his turn dancing with the wallflower and watched the ball progress in silence.

  Although Portia Hayes took to the floor with a distinguished rogue, Julian studied Miss Waters instead. She was pretty, despite her blushes. She was introduced to another gentleman then, and added another dance partner to her card.

  Her eyes sought his suddenly, and Julian nodded, encouraging. Her shoulders rose and fell, and she turned away to bid farewell to her new acquaintance wearing another blush.

  He chuckled to himself. Virginal girls were a continual source of amusement. He only hoped that when he finally reached the dance floor with Miss Waters, that the poor girl didn’t faint from overstimulation of being seen.

  There was something of a stir behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder briefly.

  The Duke of Exeter had moved.

  Julian chuckled again and paid attention to those guests standing around those nearest to himself. The ladies, young and old, had their eyes practically glued to the Duke of Exeter’s location. But it wasn’t due just to the title his grace possessed or his bottomless pockets; it was the ageless quality of his face and form that kept the ladies panting after him. When he stood close to his nephew, the Marquess of Ettington, Julian swore some of them swooned.

  They were probably hoping they’d be lucky enough to be asked to dance by him. Julian didn’t like their chances. The duke was particular and had never m
arried, or seemed likely to do so at his age. He was over fifty years now, but still appeared a man in his prime. Some men never bothered with marriage, although the duke was devoted to his family.

  A nervous twitter swept through the crowd and a presence stopped at Julian’s side unexpectedly.

  “Good evening, Lord Wade,” the Duke of Exeter murmured.

  Julian turned to face the duke and bowed deeply. “Your grace.”

  The duke gestured him up with an impatient sigh. “I trust you are having a pleasant evening.”

  “Indeed.” He saw Portia watching him from across the room and smiled, remembering the events of earlier in the night. Unfortunately, everyone else was watching him now, too. His grace rarely prowled the ballrooms unattended. “And you?”

  “Fair.”

  Julian winced. Their hostess would be crushed by that faint praise.

  “I trust you are still coming to visit at Christmas,” the duke asked.

  “Yes, indeed, and very much looking forward to the holiday,” Julian promised. “My aunt is, too.”

  “Yes, she mentioned that last time we spoke.” The duke sighed again and glanced over those present. Some noticed the duke’s attention on them and fans snapped out as the ladies offered him every encouragement to come closer. Some even waved and primped their hair. The duke, however, shook his head and turned back to Julian. “Does this all seem as tedious to you as it always has to me?”

  “Sometimes,” Julian promised as a lady performed a perfectly artless swoon. She fell in a tidy heap on the parquetry, waiting for the duke to rush across the room and swoop her up. He did not, of course. “I obviously don’t provoke the same level of universal adoration as you.”

  His grace barked out a laugh. “You are probably wondering why I really stopped to talk to you.”

  “I’m all ears,” he promised.

  The duke’s expression grew pensive. “I’m afraid I have a favor to ask of you.”

  Doing favors for friends was not unusual for him, but he gave the duke his full attention now, because it was the first time Exeter had ever approached him for one. He sensed extreme discomfort in the duke—and that intrigued him. How often did a duke seem reluctant to demand anything of anyone and expect it done without question? “How may I be of assistance?”

  The duke glanced around swiftly, his expression souring. “Not here or tonight. Would you ride with me in Hyde Park tomorrow morning?”

  The duke rode every morning, but Julian did not. A year ago, he would have leapt at the chance, but he didn’t own a horse anymore to take out. He winced as he realized he must refuse. “I’m afraid tomorrow morning is not convenient. Perhaps we could talk at White’s later in the day.”

  “I have an engagement tomorrow afternoon that cannot be put off.” The duke frowned. “Would it be possible to drag you away from all this merriment tonight for our discussion?”

  “I only have a dance with Miss Waters coming up, second to last before supper,” he told the duke.

  “After supper then.” He nodded, turning to go. “I’ll be in Northam’s study.”

  Julian was concerned enough about the duke’s haste to detain him. “Is something the matter, your grace?”

  The duke turned back, his expression troubled. “No. Yes. Perhaps. We’ll talk later, and then you will understand.”

  “Of course. Until later then,” Julian promised.

  The duke pivoted and strode off toward his nephew, leaving a number of ladies sighing in his wake. Julian was clueless about what the duke could want with him, but he couldn’t wait to find out. He rubbed his hands together. It must be something very delicate or very scandalous.

  Chapter 16

  Portia ran her fingers though the silk ribbons, admiring the array of colors a lady could choose from. She rested her fingers on a particularly lovely shade of soft blue, and Lavinia quickly snatched it up. “I like that one,” Lavinia cried.

  “We have remarkably similar taste,” Portia murmured but hid a smile. She’d been leading her sister around by the nose in this shop for the last half hour, and was well pleased with the additions she’d made to her sisters wardrobe without the girl realizing she was being manipulated. However devious Portia’s action might seem, they would both benefit—but mostly it was to keep Portia’s possessions safe.

  A quick glance across the room confirmed that their mother was well occupied, speaking to the proprietor. Lavinia was undoubtedly being spoiled but it was for a good cause. She deserved to be noticed. “Is that enough to wear with the new gowns Mother ordered made for you?”

  “I think so. Do you think I need more?”

  Portia considered her sister again. “Perhaps another length of white ribbon. White goes so well with everything and always looks lovely in your hair.”

  Lavinia moved back to the selection of white ribbon and selected a quarter-inch strip to bind around her head then showed her.

  “A good choice,” Portia promised. “We have plenty of the wider length at home.”

  Lavinia glanced at Portia’s empty hands. “What are you getting today?”

  “I need nothing, now my sister has her own ribbons.” She put her hands on Lavinia’s shoulders and squeezed. “I can always borrow from you if I need anything.”

  Lavinia held her selections tight against her chest, protecting them. “Oh, don’t.”

  “I’m only teasing.” Portia laughed softly and they returned to their mother.

  The proprietor of Cabot’s Haberdashery greeted her with a smile. “Miss Hayes, what a pleasure to see you visiting the emporium again.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Cabot.”

  “May I say congratulations on the occasion of your future marriage?”

  Portia nodded. It wasn’t the first time a business they patronized had made mention of her upcoming wedding that morning. “Thank you.”

  “If there is anything you might need, please be sure to send word. Day or night, we are at your service, and happily so.” He smiled quickly, and then looked past her, frowning. He nodded and looked toward their mother. “Is there anything else you require at the moment, madam? I must see to another customer’s needs.”

  “No indeed. We are happy to browse a little longer before completing our purchases.”

  “Thank you.” He bowed. “Excuse me.”

  Portia glanced over her shoulder to watch him go—and saw Lord Wade enter the shop.

  She turned fully to face him, watching him quickly conduct his transaction. He purchased something quite small but tucked it into his pocket before she could determine what it might have been.

  Business done, he made his way to her side. “Good morning, ladies,” he said with an indulgent smile. “You are all out bright and early today. Did you enjoy your evening last night?”

  “Indeed we did, but I thought there were far too few chairs to sit upon.”

  “Ah, it is always so at the Northam events.” He leaned close to her mother. “They do it so everyone must mingle rather than perch.”

  “Oh, that is so devious,” Mother cried, but then she turned to Portia. “You must remember that trick, darling, for when you host your first ball as a duchess.”

  Portia noticed that Lord Wade’s smile slipped a little before he spoke again. “I’m certain her dance floor will be a crush of bodies no matter how many chairs she puts out.”

  “I quite agree,” Mother murmured, and then turned away to complete her purchases for Lavinia.

  Portia was happy to be left with Wade to confide her fears. “I hoped that might be the case, but now I’m terrified I’ll be abandoned.”

  Lord Wade’s shook his head quickly. “No one will snub a duchess, but you might find yourself with an entirely new set of acquaintances.”

  She caught his eye, admiring his countenance. He was one of the few gentlemen she knew who seemed the same morning and night. She’d never heard him complain of being up too early or abed too late. “Did you enjoy the dance you shared with Miss Water
s?”

  “I did,” Lord Wade promised. “She has a lively disposition.”

  “And Lady Ettington was happy to introduce you?”

  “Indeed.” He shifted on his feet. “The lady quite enjoyed my discomfort, too.”

  Portia gaped. “Was she mean to you?”

  “No, nothing like that. She was very gracious and has forgiven me.”

  Portia settled quickly. “What other discomfort could you mean then?”

  “I think she has it in her head that I lied about my reason for asking for the introduction. I did tell her about the promise I made to you, without saying it was for you, but I’m afraid she imagines I’m truly interested in Regina Waters.”

  “But you’re not,” Portia replied quickly. “You were doing me a favor.”

  “That is not how she saw it, or probably anyone else. Miss Waters has a tidy little dowry and the marchioness’ favor. Despite my initial reluctance to approach her, I did find Miss Waters very pleasing to dance with, and believe that the marchioness’ drawing room will be filled with the cream of the crop today.”

  “I am so pleased for Miss Waters,” Portia said, setting her hand on his arm. “Every lady should be overrun with choice when it comes to choosing a husband. Do you feel she favors any particular gentlemen yet?”

  Wade squinted at her hand. “I’ve no notion, but I hope to learn soon when I pay my call upon her, and in the coming weeks.”

  “Good. Do let me know what you discover,” she whispered, drawing her hand back. “Perhaps we could help make a match for her.”

  Lord Wade blinked. “I think Miss Waters has all the help she could ever need in the Marchioness of Ettington.”

  “True, but you never know. She might choose someone quite unexpected.”

  Wade shook his head. “If only. However, I suspect she will marry very sensibly in the end. Most women have already formed an opinion of the gentleman they want before their season begins.”