Dare to be Brazen (Daring Daughters Book 2)

by Emma V. Leech

  She nodded, accepting this without so much as a blink. “Explains it.”

  “She lifted your watch?” Nic said sceptically. “Have you gone soft?”

  Louis tsked. “Hardly. She tried to lift my watch. Her technique was so lamentable I felt compelled to show her how to do it properly, but then….”

  He sighed and stared at the girl with a puzzled expression.

  “You are a soft touch,” Nic said with a snort. “I might have known.”

  “I am not!” Louis retorted.

  “You are, though,” Aggie replied seriously. “Bringing me here. Why, I might have lifted a dozen things and scarpered before you could blink.”

  “I wouldn’t suggest you try it,” Louis warned, frowning.

  Aggie rolled her eyes at him. “I told you, I ain’t that daft. I got a full belly and a warm fire to sit by, a place to sleep. Even if I sold what I took, it wouldn’t last long, would it? Or someone bigger would nick it.”

  Nic felt a wave of sorrow for this scrawny child with her wild dark hair and her big blue eyes. He remembered the night he’d found Louis, seen the look in his brother’s eyes that told him Louis would follow him to the ends of the earth if only he was shown a little bit of kindness. It was the way Aggie looked at his brother. He met Louis’s eyes and smiled his approval.

  “You’d best hide her from Mrs Grigson. She’ll have our hide if she discovers a stowaway.”

  Aggie nodded. “He told me to keep out of her way. Don’t worry, I’m good at hiding.”

  Nic did not ask her why she was good at hiding, the answer was too obvious and only made him glad Louis had given her a safe place.

  “Well, then, we had best do all we can to ensure Eliza’s school opens on time,” Nic said, tugging at his cravat. “But you’d best get ready, or had you forgotten we are dining with the family tonight?”

  By the look on Louis’s face it was clear he had forgotten. He frowned at Aggie, obviously concerned.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be right as ninepence,” Aggie said cheerfully, curling up in a chair by the fire. “And I swear I won’t nick nothing. Don’t suppose there’s any chance of some more grub, though?”

  Louis laughed.

  “I am sure something can be arranged, though I swear she has hollow legs,” he said to Nic, and with such affection that Nic felt his heart clench.

  He had never known Louis to give a damn for anyone other than him before, and he could not help but think Aggie was just what his brother needed. Someone who needed him.

  “Courage, brother. Faint heart….” Louis murmured, patting his shoulder as they entered what looked to Nic very much like the lion’s den.

  Nic met his eyes and nodded, but he could not pretend he was at ease. This was what he feared, a situation where he would be shown up as an imposter, as not belonging to this world. Not that he had ever pretended otherwise, but now… now he must try to fit. For Eliza. He greeted her parents, relieved by her mother’s warmth. The duke was scrupulously polite, but Nic knew he was being set a test. He only hoped he could pass it.

  The duke had just asked him a question about their visit to view Mr Knight’s telegraph system when Eliza entered the room and everything else ceased to exist. Nic’s heart knocked about in his chest, battering at his ribs so erratically it was hard to breathe. Good God, could he really have this… this extraordinary woman?

  She wore a white satin gown that showed much of her bare shoulders, an expanse of creamy skin that made his mouth feel suddenly dry. The skirts were caught up at the sides to show another pale pink skirt beneath. For some reason this made him think of what they’d done earlier, of his hands burrowing beneath her skirts to seek out the secret pink skin hidden under all that excess material. He couldn’t breathe.

  “I remember when you used to look at me like that, Robert,” the duchess said, her amusement obvious.

  Nic blinked as the duke tutted and replied to his wife, his voice low and intimate.

  “I think you’ll find, my love, that I never stopped.”

  The duke’s gaze was assessing as Nic met his eyes, but he heard the duchess laugh, a low breathless sound that made Nic turn towards her. She was staring at her husband with undisguised adoration, and Nic knew that he wanted that. He wanted a lifetime with a woman who looked at him like that, like Eliza looked at him. Whatever happened tonight, he would fight for her. He would fight to be good enough to win her.

  Nic had been more than pleased to discover Gabriel Knight and Lady Helena were here. It was too early in their acquaintance to be certain, but he thought perhaps they might approve of him, or at least not disapprove too strongly. Though Gabe had taken Nic aside and warned him that he could bury a body somewhere no one would ever find it, if he ever made Eliza regret her decision to marry him, he had been otherwise friendly. Just as well, really.

  Among the other guests were Alice and Nathanial Hunter—owner of Hunter’s—and their daughter, Arabella, and the Marquess and Marchioness of Montagu. The marchioness was in fact Nathanial Hunt’s sister, and so far seemed disposed to be friendly towards Nic. He hoped the rather fearsome marquess might also be amicable enough, considering how they had helped his daughter Phoebe during a little difficulty she had experienced in Paris some ten years ago. He could judge nothing from the man’s cool silver gaze, though, and wasn’t holding his breath. Nonetheless, Nic was feeling optimistic enough to believe he might survive the night when the final guests arrived.

  Louis sidled up to him, keeping his voice low. “If you were under any illusion that this is not a test, I think this should dash those hopes quite effortlessly.”

  Nic grunted. “Oh, it’s a test all right. Why else would they be here?”

  “Well, I believe Pinnock and Bedwin have some interests in common. Pinnock is keen to gain the duke’s support for a bill his father is trying to get through parliament, but they are not close to my knowledge. Especially not since—”

  “Since Eliza rejected his proposal of marriage two years ago,” Nic said, sotto voce, before turning and finding Lord Pinnock glaring at him like something the cat had coughed up on his shiny boots.

  Well, this looked like being a fun evening.

  “Do not let him rile you,” Louis warned. “He’s going to do his best, you know that, and everyone will see how you react. Everyone else is friendly enough and willing to think well of you if you give them reason too. If you lose your temper, you’ll lose Eliza.”

  Nic nodded. “Then I won’t lose my temper.”

  Put like that it was easy enough. He had broad shoulders, and he’d suffered his father’s insults for long enough to endure anything Pinnock could throw at him. Besides, it was him Eliza wanted to light a candle for, to guide him to her bed. That thought made him smile, and he sat down at the table with a lot less anxiety than he might have expected.

  To his chagrin, Nic discovered he was seated opposite rather than beside Eliza. No possibility for a stolen touch, then, which was no doubt why there was the width of a table between them. It meant, however, that they were facing each other, and that he could see every nuance of emotion that crossed her beautiful face. Louis was seated beside Eliza and opposite Arabella Hunt, who was on Nic’s right. The girl, who could only just be out, was staring at his brother with undisguised admiration. That was Louis’s problem, though; Nic’s was Lord Pinnock—or Lord Pillock, as Nic had mentally labelled him—on Eliza’s right. Eliza didn’t look any happier about it than he did, judging by the sharp glare she sent her father. The duke just quirked an eyebrow at her and raised his glass to Nic.

  Son of a…

  Dinner began well enough. Most of the guests here were good friends and at ease with each other, and the conversation flowed with the wine. Nic found himself drawn out by Lady Helena, who was on his left, and for a while forgot he was being tested for his suitability as husband material. She was quick-witted and extremely funny, and he laughed aloud more than once. He could certainly understand why Gabe had stolen
her away to Gretna Green and wondered if he oughtn’t take a leaf out of the man’s book. He tried to engage Arabella in conversation, too, and was amused to be bombarded with questions about Louis César. His brother needed to watch his step there and no mistake.

  They got through to the main course without mishap, but Nic knew it couldn’t last and was almost relieved when Lord Pillock finally addressed him. The man had been throwing him filthy looks all evening, but they had been more than compensated for by the looks he got in equal measure from Eliza. She was glowing, her eyes alight with pride in him, and that was something he had never expected. He now believed that she really did love him, but he had still doubted she would feel the same when she saw him in her world, among her friends and family. So, when Lord Pinnock opened his mouth, Nic was more than ready to meet the challenge.

  “What is it you do, Mr Demarteau?” he asked, his expression cool.

  “Very little these days,” Nic replied lightly. “Except enjoy the benefits of such excellent company as I have been given this evening.”

  “Yes, but you own some kind of club, I believe?”

  Nic nodded and glanced down the table at Nathanial Hunt.

  “I do,” he said, amused when Mr Hunt winked at him. “Rouge et Noir, in Paris.”

  “A gaming hall?” Lord Pinnock said, with a curl of his lip.

  “Oh, dear. I think our daughter might take exception to that description.”

  Nic looked around, surprised to discover Lady Montagu had spoken. Lord Pinnock frowned at the remark.

  “Lady Montagu’s daughter and her husband visited the club some years ago, my lord,” Nic said, careful not to mention the fact that their daughter had not actually been married to Lord Ellisborough at the time, but had run away to France with him in pursuit of a stolen painting.

  “Indeed,” Matilda said, leaning forward a little to meet Nic’s eyes. “Phoebe said she had seen nothing like it in all her life. Such a vast building, and so opulent. Like a golden palace, she said. I have quite envied her, I assure you.”

  “Then I do hope you will visit yourself, Lady Montagu. Do be certain to let me know if you would like to, for I would wish to ensure that you are treated as honoured guests.”

  “Ah, there goes my quiet summer at home,” Montagu murmured with a sigh, though there was a glimmer of a smile at his lips as he looked upon his wife.

  “A quiet summer, with Cat?” Lady Montagu replied with a smothered laugh.

  “You have a point,” her husband admitted. “We will run away and hide at Rouge et Noir. Phoebe may have the keeping of my dearest hoyden.”

  Laughter rolled around the table and Matilda turned the conversation to ask Louis César about the girl Lady Catherine had met at Eliza’s school. Lord Pinnock, however, was not satisfied.

  “A nightclub owner, then,” he said, sitting back in his seat, and gesturing for a servant to fill up his glass. “And who are your people?”

  Nic returned a lazy smile. Really, this was too easy.

  “My brother is there,” he said, gesturing to Louis. “You were introduced earlier.”

  “And your father?” The Pillock pressed him.

  “The late Comte de Villen,” Nic replied patiently, ensuring he sounded bored and not as if he wanted to break the prick’s nose. “Though I think what you wish me to admit is that I am the comte’s bastard. It is true, and I believe everyone here knows it.”

  He didn’t bother to say including you. That was obvious, and he didn’t need to point it out to make the man look like a vindictive fool for his efforts to embarrass Nic.

  Lord Pinnock’s glare became glacial, even as a tinge of colour touched his cheeks. His jaw set and he returned his attention to his dinner. Nic sighed inwardly, relieved that was over, but not convinced it would be the last attack. Feeling eyes upon him, he looked over to see Pinnock’s sister, Miss Talbot, studying him with interest. She smiled, a smile no innocent young lady ought to bestow on an unmarried man. Her fingers trailed about her neck and Nic’s eyes widened. Not with interest in the girl, but with astonishment at the emerald necklace she wore. It was glorious. Why she was wearing it to a dinner when it was more suited to a ballroom, he did not know. He did know that it was quite the most splendid set of jewels he’d ever seen in his life. His fingers twitched, and he was forced to remind himself quite sternly that they didn’t do that sort of thing anymore. A pity really, as Lord Pinnock certainly qualified as being someone they would not mind stealing from. The prick.

  “The family emeralds,” Miss Talbot said, noting his interest. “They’re worth an absolute fortune,” she added with a little laugh.

  Nic frowned, surprised by that comment. Even he knew alluding to the value of something you owned was very bad manners. He met Louis’s eyes and saw the warning there, as if he needed it. This woman and her brother were trouble.

  “I understand you are travelling to France,” Lady Helena said to Lord Pinnock, in an obvious attempt to diffuse the increasingly taut atmosphere.

  “Indeed,” Lord Pinnock said, cutting up a slice of beef with far more aggression than was required as it was beautifully tender.

  Nic suspected Lord Pinnock was imagining his heart on the plate.

  “Though I would rather not, I have business interests that mean we must travel to the south. So, too many weeks of unaired beds, indigestible food, filthy rooms, and fleas, no doubt,” he added in disgust.

  “Well, you get what you pay for,” Louis murmured.

  “What was that?” Pinnock demanded, his tone angry.

  Louis looked up, all guileless blue eyes. God, but his brother could look like an angel when the mood took him. “Why, only that if you pay for quality, you get quality. I do realise not everyone can afford it, of course, which is a pity. I hope you manage your journey with less discomfort this time. It sounds very disagreeable to travel on such a budget. I do know of a lovely little place in the Loire. Very reasonable. I would be happy to give you the address if—”

  “I do not need to travel on a budget,” Lord Pinnock said, fury glittering in his eyes.

  “Oh.” Louis looked mildly surprised as he lifted his wine glass. “Forgive me, I misunderstood. My English, you know… it is not quite perfect.”

  It was all Nic could do to keep his countenance, and he was certain Eliza’s shoulders were shaking with silent laughter. Louis César, however, was not done and carried on, apparently blithely unaware of Lord Pinnock’s growing indignation.

  “In that case, do stay at the Hotel d’Europe in Avignon if you have the chance. It is quite exceptional. There are certainly no… er… what is the word, Nic…puce?”

  “Fleas, Louis. The word is fleas,” Nic managed, struggling to keep a straight face.

  “Ah, oui,” Louis said, beaming at Lord Pinnock. “There are certainly no fleas.”

  There was a choking sound from the end of the table and Nic turned to see the icy Marquess of Montagu reaching for a glass of water.

  “Went down the wrong way,” Montagu muttered apologetically, but there was laughter dancing in his cold eyes.

  Dinner ended, thank the Lord, but the ordeal was not quite over as the company retired to more relaxed surroundings. Nic heartily endorsed the duchess for eschewing convention, as she was known to do, and refusing to let the men alone to drink their port without the ladies present. He wanted to stay as far away from Lord Pillock as possible.

  The man himself seemed surprised and displeased by the rather unconventional turn of events though and said as much.

  “But why on earth would you wish to be free of such delightful company?” Mr Hunt asked with interest, to which Lord Pinnock did not have an answer.

  “I am so proud of you.”

  Nic turned to see Eliza at his elbow, her eyes alight with happiness. She blew him a surreptitious kiss before taking the teacup she held over to her aunt.

  He smiled at her, glad he’d acquitted himself well, though he knew it was only the beginning. This would
be his life, no doubt, defending his right to sit among those who were far above him in the pecking order. Eliza’s Uncle Gabriel walked over to him and handed him a large glass of brandy.

  “Stuff the port, I figured you could use this,” he said with a crooked smile.

  “Thank you,” Nic replied with gratitude. “You have no idea.”

  Gabriel snorted. “Oh, I think perhaps I do. Are you asking yourself if it’s worth it?”

  Nic’s eyes drifted over to Eliza, who was talking animatedly to Helena. She must have felt his gaze upon her, for she looked up and sent him a smile of such radiance his breath caught.

  “No,” Nic said simply. “It’s worth it. She’s worth it. I don’t care what I have to do, how much idiocy and insult I must bear. So long as she never regrets her choice, it’s worth it.”

  “Yes,” Gabriel said, staring at his own wife for a long moment before returning his attention to Nic. “Yes, it is. Courage, young man. You will find friends here, if you are prepared to be honest with us, but we dislike being surprised. Dishonesty, trickery or secrets that crawl out of the woodwork and take us unawares make us most unhappy.”

  Nic stared at him, heat creeping up the back of his neck.

  “What have you heard?” he asked, seeing no point in beating about the bush.

  “It is my business to hear things,” Gabriel replied, holding his gaze. “And you’d be a fool to think there’s a secret in England that Montagu doesn’t know about. Perhaps in France, but… it’s only a matter of time.”

  Nic’s heart was thudding too hard, too fast. “And if I reveal everything and discover I don’t have any friends after all?”

  Gabriel shook his head. “That’s not how this works. We all have secrets, but we can guard them better if those that care for us know what they are. Honesty. It’s the key to all of it, Nic. If you want this, if you want Eliza—”

  “I do.”

  Gabriel shrugged.

  “I can’t spill my guts now,” Nic protested. “And my secrets—”

  “Are not yours alone,” Gabriel replied, nodding. “Then you must ask your brother too. If you are accepted by us, you will be protected by us, but you must trust us as Eliza trusts us. We will stand beside her, and you, if we believe you love her and your intentions are honourable… no matter what may be in your past. Believe me, you are unlikely to shock us.”