London Temptations: Historical Regency Romance Collection

by Joyce Alec

  Lady Rutherford’s eyes sparkled for a moment as she glanced at him. “Indeed,” she replied calmly, although from the gleam in her eye, Thomas knew that she found the remark rather mirthful. “I am very grateful to Lord Farrington for speaking to me as he has done.”

  Lord Warwick cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention. He rose from his chair and, much to Thomas’ gratitude, poured two glasses of brandy and held one out to him.

  “You say that Lord Timothy is returning to London on Tuesday,” he said, looking steadily at Thomas. “Given how matters were left between you both and given that you have barely seen him in five years, why should he be so willing to write to you in that manner? Why inform you that he is returning to London if he knows that you have no interest in seeing him?”

  Thomas shrugged. “He is a gentleman most extraordinary,” he said, swirling his brandy. “He did not think that there was anything wrong with what he had done, thinking that I was merely useful to him and never once considering that I might be upset or offended by the way he had used me. Thus, I fully believe that he now expects that I shall have forgotten all that has taken place and now intends to continue on with our friendship just as it was before.”

  “But you told him outright that you were greatly displeased with how he had treated you?” Lady Fortescue asked, and Thomas nodded. “You made it plain that such a friendship would not continue?”

  “As clearly as I could, yes,” Thomas replied honestly. “But as I have said, Lord Timothy obviously expects that I shall have forgotten all about such a thing and will now be glad to have him back in my acquaintance.” He shrugged and gave Lady Fortescue a rueful smile. “I shall be very displeased indeed, of course, but for Lady Rutherford’s sake, I shall play the part of his friend.”

  Lady Rutherford rewarded this statement with another smile and Thomas could not help but smile back at her, unaware of the look that was exchanged between Lady Fortescue and Lord Warwick as he did so.

  “Then, you shall meet with him, yes?” Lord Warwick asked as Thomas dragged his attention away from Lady Rutherford. “And what shall you state?”

  Thomas grinned. “I shall state that I am very dear friends with one Lady Rutherford. I shall tell him that I have been invited to a dinner party at her townhouse in a few days’ time, although I must hope that the small boy she has with her will not be present.”

  “Thus piquing Lord Timothy’s interest,” Lady Rutherford replied calmly, although Thomas noted how her fingers tightened as she clasped her hands together. “No doubt, he shall seek to attend also, and I shall be glad to extend him an invitation.”

  Gesturing toward Lord Warwick, Thomas finished his explanation, a plan both he and Lady Rutherford had concocted in the carriage on their way to Lord Warwick’s home only a short time before. “Thereafter, you shall be waiting in the room that either one of us, or one of the staff, shall inform Lord Timothy the boy is in,” he said, as Lord Warwick’s interest grew, for he began to nod excessively, frowning just a little as he considered their plan. “You shall have to keep him there until Lady Rutherford and I arrive.”

  “I see,” Lord Warwick murmured. “And thereafter, you shall state all that you know and pray that he concurs with it?”

  Lady Rutherford glanced at Thomas, who nodded. “That is our intention, yes,” he said softly. “After all, the man will be discovered in the room of a small boy with no true explanation as to why he was there. I believe,” he added with more confidence in his voice than he truly felt, “that Lord Timothy will have no other choice but to speak the truth, whether he wishes to or not.”

  Silence filled the room for a long moment and Thomas watched Lord Warwick exchange a look with Lady Fortescue before, finally, he nodded. Letting out a breath of relief, Thomas held out his glass of brandy in a toast. “I thank you, Lord Warwick.”

  “As do I,” Lady Rutherford added, an expression of sheer relief capturing her features. “My first thought is for my son but, as Lord Farrington has correctly stated, it will be very difficult indeed for Lord Timothy to discover his whereabouts, given that I have only spoken of it to Lady Fortescue.” She smiled. “And I received a letter from my aunt only yesterday informing me that all was well.”

  “I shall do whatever I can to be of assistance also,” Lady Fortescue interrupted, looking now quite determined. “After all, I have been with you in this from almost the start of the Season, have I not?”

  Thomas watched as Lady Rutherford smiled and nodded, glad that she was soon to be freed of this burden that had obviously held her life for a long, long time. He could not imagine what emotions were shaking her at this very moment, to know that her husband had been taken from this world by the hand of his brother, and to realize that the very same man might well be ready to do the same to her son. She was, he thought, a lady of great strength and determination and those qualities were yet another reason to admire her.

  “Then we are settled,” Lord Warwick said, smiling broadly although there was still a wariness in his eyes as he glanced at Thomas. “You shall have to plan your dinner party, Lady Rutherford.”

  “I shall do so the very moment I return home,” she told him as Thomas held back a sigh. “And Lord Farrington shall have to write to Lord Timothy and inform him that he will be glad of his company when Lord Timothy returns to London.” She arched one eyebrow and looked at him, making Thomas sigh heavily and rub at his forehead.

  “I shall do so the very moment I return home,” he told her, repeating her words exactly as a small smile lifted his mouth. “Although I cannot say that I am looking forward to the meeting.” With a small sigh, he shrugged his shoulders. “But it must be done. Let us pray that I have success.”

  “I am sure you will,” Lady Rutherford told him, her eyes still fixed to his. “And thank you, Lord Farrington. Thank you for all that you have done.”

  Those words rang in Thomas’ ears as he made his way to White’s, some four days later. He had met with Lady Rutherford every day since he had returned home, and their meetings had been of a rather long duration. It had been solely meant to discuss their plan and to make certain that all their intentions were clear and without fault. However, once such conversations were completed, Thomas had found himself lingering, wanting to know more about this lady. It was as though a mask had fallen from her face, as though she had stepped away from a shadow that had held her back from him. There was a great deal about Lady Rutherford he admired, and Thomas had to confess that he was finding her company to be more than a little enjoyable.

  It seemed as though Lady Rutherford felt very much the same, for she did not ever ask him to leave or make any appearance of awkwardness in his company. They spoke of a great many things, including the fact that she had been so bold as to kidnap him, which had brought something of a blush to her cheeks. She, in turn, had asked him about his true nature, clearly believing what he had told her about the gentleman he had once been rather than the one he was at present. Thomas had found himself eager to divest himself of all the characteristics he had assumed in the last five years, astonished that he could think of nothing more than Lady Rutherford, rather than pining for any of the other ladies that normally held so much of his attention.

  “You look delighted with yourself.”

  Those were the first words Lord Timothy spoke to him, making Thomas look up sharply, hauling himself out of his thoughts with great urgency. Lord Timothy had been waiting in a chair near to the window and was now rising from it, one hand outstretched and a broad smile on his face.

  Hesitating and remembering that he was not to make himself appear too eager to continue with the acquaintance as it was, Thomas took a moment before shaking Lord Timothy’s hand, praying that the uneasiness he felt was written across his expression.

  Lord Timothy’s smile began to falter.

  “A whisky,” Thomas told the nearby footman, before sitting down opposite his old friend. Memories and regrets began to swamp him, but Thomas controlled th
em with an effort. Now was not the time to begin losing himself in a cloud of foggy reminiscences. He had to fix his mind entirely on what he was to say to Lord Timothy.

  “I can see you have not fully forgiven me,” Lord Timothy said easily, sitting back in his chair and eyeing Thomas lazily. “Come now, old boy. It was five years ago and nothing that you need to hold a grudge over.”

  “I think you will find that I am more than able to allow my feelings to remain for as long as they wish,” Thomas replied, a little icily. “You used me ill, Lord Timothy.”

  Lord Timothy picked up his own glass and took a sip, looking steadily back at Thomas with that same, unflinching gaze that Thomas knew so well. The man had barely changed in five years, for he still had the thick brown hair, green eyes, and haughty smile that Thomas knew so well—except there was no enjoyment for him in being in Lord Timothy’s company as there had been before.

  “If it is of any consolation, I shall apologize for using you as I did,” Lord Timothy said eventually, although, Thomas realized, this was not a particular apology but rather one that spoke of no remorse whatsoever. Lord Timothy was doing whatever he could to say the words that he expected Thomas wanted to hear. “I wanted only to see my brother again, so that I might speak to him. He would not allow me near him, would not even accept my letters, and thus, in my desperation, I did what I had to. Although,” he finished, a spark of anger in his eyes now, “I did not achieve what I had hoped.”

  “No,” Thomas agreed softly. “You did not.”

  This brought a sharp look from Lord Timothy, but Thomas did not flinch. He could not simply accept Lord Timothy’s company immediately, for fear of making the man suspicious, but there was a fine line between pushing the friendship away entirely and welcoming Lord Timothy back into society.

  “You have heard, I suppose, that my brother died shortly afterwards?” Lord Timothy said abruptly. “And now there is a child, apparently.” He snorted, his lip curling. “Although whether or not that lady was true to my brother, I shall never know for sure.”

  The insult to Lady Rutherford sent such a spiral of heat up through Thomas’ chest that it was all he could do to simply remain in his seat and to keep his mouth closed tightly. If he responded in the way he wished, then Lord Timothy might be lost to them for good.

  “I am not sure if you are acquainted with her,” Lord Timothy continued, rather airily. “Lady Rutherford?” He eyed Thomas keenly. “I heard she was in London.”

  Wondering which of Lord Timothy’s other acquaintances had informed him of such a thing, Thomas finally allowed himself to nod.

  “I find her a very charming lady indeed, although I do so wish she would keep her son away from our conversations,” he said with a shrug. “I am to go to a dinner party in a few days’ time, in fact. She has caught the ton’s attention here in London and I shall be very glad indeed to join her for dinner.” He said nothing more but picked up his whisky from the footman’s tray, giving him a small wave of his hand by way of dismissal. Taking a sip, he allowed the amber liquid to spread warmth all through him, ignoring the thudding of his frantic heart and his whirling, anxious thoughts as he wondered just what Lord Timothy was thinking.

  “What is it you intend to do here in London?” he asked, changing the subject from Lady Rutherford and giving her no more importance that he would anyone else. “Are you come merely to enjoy the Season?”

  Lord Timothy studied Thomas for a moment or two before answering. “I thought, in fact, to do precisely that,” he said with what Thomas presumed was meant to be a bright smile. “I have been away from London for too long and thought it time to reacquaint myself with the beau monde.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Besides which, if my sister-in-law is present, then I believe I should take the opportunity to acquaint myself with her.”

  “I am sure she would be glad to know you,” Thomas replied in what was, he realized, a rather truthful statement. “I am sure I can introduce you, should an opportunity arise.”

  “That would be very kind,” Lord Timothy replied with a small smile, although Thomas did not miss the calculating gleam in Lord Timothy’s eye. “I presume she is a very fine woman still?”

  Thomas hesitated, feeling sweat break out on his brow. Surely Lord Timothy could not intend to try to court Lady Rutherford? To try and marry her? The marriage would be voidable as Lady Rutherford was the widow of Lord Timothy’s brother. The idea was laughable, and Thomas simply shrugged, not giving his true opinion to Lord Timothy and, instead, doing what he could to protect the lady. The thought of Lord Timothy trying to court Lady Rutherford was quite horrific, although, he considered, there would be no great need for Lord Timothy to do such a thing given that he would still never be the Marquess of Rutherford. As Thomas took another sip of his drink, he felt a coldness sweep over him as a sudden realization gripped him.

  If Lord Timothy’s intention was to rid the world of the newly titled Lord Rutherford, then that would mean that, in courting Lady Rutherford, he might hope to ingratiate himself with her to the point of matrimony. Thus, he would become the new Lord Rutherford and would be able to produce his own heir, so that the title would continue in the family line—but a line of his own making.

  He shuddered.

  “Cold?”

  “Tired,” Thomas replied with a small smile. “The truth is, Lord Timothy, I have found myself distracted of late by Lady Rutherford.” He did not know why he was saying such things but allowed himself to speak freely anyway, knowing that it came from an urge to protect the lady from her brother-in-law. “I have been putting all my efforts into encouraging her to accept my courtship.” The corner of his mouth lifted and he lifted his brandy as though in a toast to his own mettle. “Finally, only last evening, she accepted me,” he finished with a grin. “Although none of the ton are aware of this as yet, of course. You are the very first.”

  Thomas watched Lord Timothy closely, quickly taking a mouthful of brandy and setting the empty glass down on the table with a sigh of contentment. Lord Timothy said nothing, no smile on his face but rather a hard, calculated look in his eye that sent a chill through Thomas’ heart. He himself chose to say nothing further either but instead gestured to the footman for another drink.

  “Are you intending to court?” he asked, but Lord Timothy suddenly sat up, his expression dark.

  “I should like to be introduced to Lady Rutherford as quickly as I can,” he said, his tone holding an edge of anger. “Do you think you might be able to do so?”

  Thomas shrugged. “Of course.” He studied the man carefully. “There is an evening assembly tomorrow evening. I am sure you will already have an invitation.” Quickly, he gave Lord Timothy the details and saw the man nod, feeling a panicked thud of his own heart as the expression on Lord Timothy’s face grew dark.

  “I look forward to being introduced to your lady tomorrow evening, then,” Lord Timothy said firmly. “It will fulfill a long-held intention of mine, Lord Farrington, and for that, I am profoundly grateful.”

  “I am certain she will be very glad to make your acquaintance,” Thomas replied honestly. “I look forward to introducing you both tomorrow.”

  13

  “Are you all right?”

  Josephine took in a steadying breath and then turned to face Lord Farrington, rather surprised to see the depths of concern written all over his face. These last few days, his character had undergone such a change that she barely recognized him any longer, but that in itself was an excellent thing. Josephine felt as though she could rely on Lord Farrington, as though she were quite able to trust him, and, in this situation particularly, she was most grateful for it. He had shown her loyalty when, in truth, she deserved none from him, and he had, in the way he had acted and the actions he had taken, shown her that he fully intended to do all he could to help her.

  “I am well,” she said, taking in a deep breath. “Your arm, perhaps?”

  Lord Farrington flushed and then offered it to her, making her
smile faintly as she took it. When he had come to her with a strange explanation as to why they must now court, Josephine had not been immediately convinced. However, the way he had described what Lord Timothy had said and what he himself believed Lord Timothy’s intentions were toward her had made her realize precisely why he had done so and thus, she had quickly accepted his suggestion that they give every appearance of courtship.

  “You are smiling, Lady Rutherford,” Lord Farrington murmured as they walked into the great hall. “That makes it appear, at least, as though you are enjoying my company.”

  She could not help but laugh. “I was only thinking that it is quite ridiculous that I should find myself on the arm of a gentleman I swore I should never stand beside again,” she told him, making him smile back at her. “Although I am truly grateful for your company this evening, as well as all you have done so far.”

  “I do not do it all entirely for your sake,” he told her honestly. “In a way, this is my penance. Although I must hope that we are successful.” For a moment, anger filled his features, only to be smoothed away in an instant. “Lord Timothy behaves as though all he has done ought to be entirely forgotten,” he said darkly. “He may be able to set it aside and think nothing more of it, but I myself am haunted by the fact that, in doing what I did in allowing Lord Timothy to manipulate me for his own causes, in pleading his case with Lord Stevenson, I inadvertently brought a murder to the house party.” Looking at her, Lord Farrington’s wretched expression seemed to reach out and envelop Josephine, making her feel a deep sense of compassion for his trials as well as the urge to convince him that all was not as he said.

  “You could not have known what he intended to do,” she said gently. “None of this is your doing, Lord Farrington. You have done wrong, yes, but you are, at last, admitting to what part you played.” On instinct, she reached across with her free hand and found his, pressing it gently as she returned his searching gaze. “Do not take on guilt that is not your own.”