Buch lesen: «Brushed By Scandal»
‘I have the feeling, Sir Barrington, that one is never entirely safe around you. You see a great deal without ever giving the appearance of actually looking. That makes you dangerous.’
‘Only to those with something to hide. The innocent have no reason to fear me.’ His eyes found hers and held them captive. ‘I trust you do not find me dangerous, Lady Annabelle?’
Author Note
It’s always a treat when an idea for a new story comes out of a book I haven’t even finished writing. And that’s exactly what happened with BRUSHED BY SCANDAL.
Lady Annabelle Durst and Sir Barrington Parker both made their debuts in COURTING MISS VALLOIS, and although they never met I knew they would be drawn to one another. After all, they were both intelligent, attractive people, who liked nothing better than to help others get out of or avoid potentially embarrassing or damaging situations.
But what if that potentially damaging situation happened to one of them? How would they feel about being investigated by the other person? Worse, could they ever bring themselves to love that other person if the crime they threatened to expose had the power to destroy everything they held most dear?
I hope you enjoy Barrington and Anna’s love story. I had great fun writing it.
About the Author
GAIL WHITIKER was born on the west coast of Wales and moved to Canada at an early age. Though she grew up reading everything from John Wyndham to Victoria Holt, frequent trips back to Wales inspired a fascination with castles and history, so it wasn’t surprising that her first published book would be set in Regency England. Now an award-winning author of both historical and contemporary novels, Gail lives on Vancouver Island, where she continues to indulge her fascination with the past, as well as enjoying travel, music, and spectacular scenery. Visit Gail at www.gailwhitiker.com
Previous novels by this author:
A MOST IMPROPER PROPOSAL*
THE GUARDIAN’S DILEMMA*
A SCANDALOUS COURTSHIP
A MOST UNSUITABLE BRIDE
A PROMISE TO RETURN
COURTING MISS VALLOIS
*part of The Steepwood Scandal mini-series
Brushed
by Scandal
Gail Whitiker
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To Mum and Dad, who continue to be an ongoing source of love and support in so many areas of my life. Thank you for always being there.
And to my good friend Lynne Rattray, who inspires me with her joie de vivre and her unflagging sense of humour.
Chapter One
It was a perfect night for sin. The mid-May evening was deliciously warm, the air sweet with the fragrance of rosewater and violets, and the attention of one hundred and forty-nine of the guests moving slowly through the overheated rooms of Lord and Lady Montby’s palatial London house was focused on anything but the young lady slipping furtively through the French doors and onto the dimly lit balcony beyond.
Fortunately, as the attention of the one hundred and fiftieth guest had been fixed on that silly young woman for some time, the chances of her making a clean escape were never very good. Over the course of the evening, Lady Annabelle Durst had watched the exchange of smiles and glances passing between Miss Mercy Banks and a certain red-coated officer, and, given that the gentleman had recently left the room by the same doors through which Miss Banks now passed, Anna had no doubt that a clandestine rendezvous was planned. A rendezvous that could only end in disaster for one or both of them.
‘Mrs Wicks, would you please excuse me,’ Anna said quietly. ‘I’ve just seen someone I really must speak with.’
‘Why, of course, Lady Annabelle, and I do apologise for having taken up so much of your time, but I really didn’t know who else to turn to. Cynthia simply refuses to listen and I was at my wits’ end, wondering what to do next.’
‘I understand perfectly,’ Anna said, endeavouring to keep one eye on the French doors. ‘Cynthia has always been the most stubborn of your daughters and if you force her to spend a month in Scotland with her grandmother while her sisters are allowed to go to Bath, she will rebel. However, I believe the compromise I’ve suggested should help to alleviate the tension and make everyone feel better.’
‘I don’t mind saying it’s made me feel a great deal better,’ Mrs Wicks murmured. ‘You’re an uncommonly wise young woman for your age, Lady Annabelle. Your father must be very proud.’
Aware that her father would have been a great deal more proud had he been sending word of her upcoming engagement to The Times, Anna simply inclined her head and moved on. There was no point in telling Mrs Wicks that her unwed state was an ongoing source of consternation to her father or that he had offered to settle not only a handsome dowry, but one of his smaller, unentailed estates on her the moment she announced her engagement. Why bother when there was absolutely no one in her life for whom she felt even the slightest attraction?
As for being deemed a very wise young woman, Anna supposed it could have been worse. She might have been called studious or obliging—agreeable, even—none of which truly described her character. Yes, it was true, she had been dispensing an inordinate amount of advice to wilful young ladies and their frustrated mothers of late, but what was she to do when they kept coming to her for answers? Their problems were relatively easy to understand and comparatively simple to fix, even if the parties involved thought otherwise.
As to the hapless Miss Banks, that was clearly a situation Anna was going to have to deal with personally if she hoped to ward off imminent disaster.
The balcony, illuminated by multiple strands of brightly coloured lanterns strung from one end to the other, ran almost the entire length of the house, but one glance in either direction was enough to show Anna that her quarry had already vanished into the gardens. Foolish girl. Did she really believe that the gardens were empty? That no one else had sought privacy in the shadowy follies and Grecian temples sprinkled throughout the trees?
Obviously not or she wouldn’t have allowed herself to be led astray—and Anna had no doubt the girl had been led. Mercy Banks was as green as a leprechaun’s jacket. Barely seventeen, she was in London for her first Season, so it was only to be expected that, upon meeting a young man who looked at her as though she were Aphrodite reincarnated, she would mistake attraction for something deeper.
Anna had been seventeen once, too. She remembered all too well the excitement of looking up to find a handsome gentleman watching her; the exhilaration of his hand casually brushing hers when they drew close enough to converse, followed by the warmth of his breath as he leaned in close to whisper a compliment.
Oh, yes, she knew well the lure of those forbidden bowers. But because she had been prevented from making a mistake by someone who had noticed her infatuation and taken the time to intervene, Anna now recognised the importance in doing the same for others. Unfortunately, as she walked down the stone steps and into the garden proper, she realised she was not the only one intent on locating the wayward Miss Banks. Marching with grim resolve along the gravel path ahead of her was the young lady’s mother, determined to find her errant daughter before some dreadful misfortune could befall her.
Obviously, more desperate measures were now called for.
‘Mrs Banks,’ Anna called in a pleasant but carrying voice. ‘What a pleasure to see you again.’
Mrs Banks, a small, rotund lady wearing a dark green gown and a headband adorned with flowers and fruits of an exotic hue, paused to glance over her shoulder; upon seeing Anna, she stopped, her expression of concern changing to one of pleasure. ‘Why, Lady Annabelle, how nice to see you again. It must be nearly a month since we last had an opportunity to chat. Lady Falconer’s musicale, wasn’t it?’
Anna inclined her head. ‘I do believe it was.’
‘I thought so. Dreadful soprano. I vow my ears rang most painfully for the rest of the night,’ Mrs Banks said with a frown. ‘But what are you doing out here all on your own?’
‘The house was so warm, I thought to enjoy a quiet stroll through the gardens,’ Anna said, keeping her voice light and her words casual. ‘But where is Mr Banks this evening? I take it he did come with you.’
‘Oh, yes, albeit reluctantly. He’s not much into these society affairs, but I told him we must make an effort if we hope to settle Mercy in an advantageous marriage.’ Mrs Banks sighed. ‘For his sake, I hope she finds a husband sooner rather than later. He’s that anxious to get back home.’
‘I’m sure it will be sooner,’ Anna said, heart jumping as she caught sight of a red coat just beyond Mrs Banks’s right shoulder. ‘But I wonder, Mrs Banks, if you’ve seen the new fountain Lady Montby recently had installed over by the reflecting pool? It really is quite spectacular.’
‘I’m sure it is, but at the moment, I am more concerned with finding Mercy.’
‘Really?’ Anna affected a look of confusion. ‘I am quite sure I saw her inside the house.’
‘You did? Where?’
‘Heading in the direction of the music room.’
Mrs Banks rolled her eyes, but Anna noticed a definite softening in the lines of tension around her mouth. ‘I might have known. Someone told Mercy that Lady Montby had recently acquired a new pianoforte and naturally she was anxious to see it. The child is quite musically gifted,’ her mother confided proudly. ‘And while I take care not to compliment her too much, I am hopeful it will help in the quest to find her the right kind of husband.’
‘I’m sure she will do you both proud,’ Anna said, slipping her arm through the older woman’s and turning her around. ‘But as long as we’re heading back inside, why don’t we take a peek at the fountain? It will only take a moment, and then you can carry on and look for your daughter.’
Obviously deciding it was a good idea, Mrs Banks made no demur as Anna led her in the direction of the fountain, which was indeed a spectacular affair, and which, more importantly, was located at the opposite end of the garden from where Anna suspected Mercy and her officer were hiding. Once there, she introduced Mrs Banks to Mrs Wicks, who immediately launched into a diatribe about the difficulties of presenting ungrateful daughters to society, whereupon Mrs Banks said how thankful she was that she only had one daughter to marry off, rather than three.
Anna left the two women happily commiserating with one another and quickly retraced her steps. She was almost at the far end of the path when Miss Banks stepped out, her cheeks flushed, her blue eyes wide with apprehension. ‘Lady Annabelle!’
‘Miss Banks. Enjoying a few minutes alone in the garden?’ she asked pointedly.
‘Yes! That is … no. That is … oh dear.’ The girl looked up and the expression on Anna’s face turned her cheeks an even brighter shade of red. ‘Please tell me Mama didn’t know where I was.’
‘She did not, but only because I suggested you were still inside the house,’ Anna said. ‘If she had caught you and your young man out here together, the consequences would have been dire!’
The girl’s pretty face fell. ‘I know. And I promise I won’t do it again. It’s just that …’
When she broke off blushing, Anna prayed the silly girl hadn’t done anything irredeemably stupid. ‘It’s just that what?’
Mercy sighed. ‘He said it would be all right. He told me … he loved me.’
Of course he had, Anna thought drily. Was a declaration of love not the most common justification for inappropriate behaviour on a young man’s part? ‘Then I take leave to tell you that he had a very poor way of showing it. Has he secured your father’s permission to speak to you?’
Miss Banks looked even more miserable. ‘We have not even been formally introduced. We first saw one another in Hyde Park a week ago, then again at a masquerade two nights past.’
‘At which time he suggested a rendezvous for this evening,’ Anna surmised.
The girl nodded.
‘Then you must not see him again until a formal introduction has been made. Whatever his feelings, asking you to meet him alone in a secluded garden demonstrates the worst kind of judgement,’ Anna said firmly. ‘He must seek a proper introduction and when the time comes to speak of his intentions, he must approach your father and ask permission to call upon you. Please believe me when I say that what he did tonight was not an indication of love, Miss Banks, no matter how much you would like to believe otherwise.’
The young girl bit her lip. ‘No, I don’t suppose it was. But I did so want to see him again … even if only for a few minutes.’
‘A few minutes are more than enough to ruin a lifetime,’ Anna said more gently. ‘You must guard your reputation as fiercely as you would your most precious possession, because right now, it is your most precious possession. Once lost it can never be regained and no one will suffer more for its absence than you. So, no matter what any gentleman says to you, or how sweetly he says it, do not let yourself be tempted into such an indiscretion again.’
‘Yes, Lady Annabelle.’
Anna could see from the expression on Mercy’s face that she had learned her lesson and that the episode would not be repeated. Nor did Anna expect that it would. It wasn’t that Mercy was bad. She was simply young and impetuous, as were so many girls her age.
As Anna herself had once been.
‘And now, we shall return to the house and you will find your mother and endeavour to set her mind at rest,’ she said, leading Mercy back along the gravel path. ‘As for your young man, you are not to look for him again, and, if he seeks you out, you are to tell him you will not speak to him until the two of you have been properly introduced … which I shall endeavour to do later this evening.’
Miss Banks gasped. ‘You would do that for me?’
‘I would, but only if you give me your promise that you will never see …’ Anna paused. ‘What is the officer’s name?’
‘Lieutenant Giles Blokker.’
‘Fine. That you will not see Lieutenant Blokker again without suitable chaperonage. I may not be around to save you the next time.’
‘You have my promise, Lady Annabelle. And thank you! Thank you so very much!’
Upon returning to the ballroom, Miss Banks did exactly as she had been told. When Lieutenant Blokker tried to approach her, she treated him to a look that would have done her crusty old grandmother proud and then went in search of her mother. The young man looked understandably crushed, but Anna hoped it had taught him a lesson. If he truly cared for Miss Banks, he would do whatever was necessary in order to further the connection in the manner of which society approved. If not, he wasn’t worth having in the first place.
‘Do you attempt to save them all from themselves?’ asked an amused masculine voice close to her ear. ‘Or only the ones who don’t know any better?’
Anna turned her head and found herself looking into the face of a stranger. A very handsome stranger, but a stranger none the less. ‘Were you speaking to me, sir?’
‘I was. And pray forgive my boldness, but I happened to be in the garden when you came upon the young lady, and such was my timing that I was privy to most of your conversation with her just now. She is indeed fortunate to have you as her champion.’
His voice was velvet over steel. Resonant, powerful, the kind of voice that held audiences spellbound and sent impressionable young women swooning. Anna could imagine him reciting Shakespeare on the stage at Drury Lane, or reading love sonnets by Bryon or Wordsworth, those low, sensual tones sparking desire in any young woman’s breast.
But was their meeting now entirely coincidental? While she thought him too old for Miss Banks and too casual in his addresses to her, the fact he had been in the garden at the same time as they had, and that he just happened to be standing next to her now, left her wondering.
‘I only attempt to save the ones I deem worthy of saving,’
she replied carefully. ‘The rest I leave to their own devices.’
‘Just as well,’ the gentleman said. ‘Most people sin for the fun of it and wouldn’t welcome your intervention, no matter how well intentioned. Unlike Miss Banks, whose romantic heart would likely have got the better of her had you not stepped in to save the day.’
Anna caught an undertone of amusement in his voice and, despite her natural inclination to be wary, found herself smiling back at him. He was certainly an attractive man. His face was long rather than square, his jaw angular, his cheekbones high and well formed. Intelligence gleamed in the depths of those clear grey eyes and his lips, curved upwards in a smile, were firm and disturbingly sensual. His clothes were expensive, his linen impeccable, and while his hair shone black in the light of a thousand candles, the tiny lines at the corners of his eyes put him closer to thirty than twenty.
No, he definitely wasn’t after Miss Mercy Banks, Anna decided. He could have eaten the silly little chit for dinner and still gone away hungry. But neither was this a casual conversation, of that she was sure. ‘I am undecided as to whether I should be flattered by your comments or offended by them,’ she said. ‘I had no idea my actions were being so closely observed.’
‘A gentleman should never make his attentions too obvious, Lady Annabelle. I pride myself on my ability to observe without being observed—a quality necessary to those who involve themselves in the convoluted lives of others. Wouldn’t you agree?’
Anna’s eyes widened. So, he knew who she was and what she was about. That alone should have put her on her guard, yet all it did was make her more curious. She liked a man who didn’t play games; Lord knew, London society was all too full of them. ‘I fear you have the advantage of me, sir.
You obviously know a great deal more about me than I do about you.’
‘Only because you are more visible in society,’ he murmured. ‘And as much as I regret the inequity of the situation, we both know it would be ill-mannered of me to introduce myself, so I shall wait for the thing to be done properly as you have so kindly offered to do for Miss Banks.’
His words abruptly called to mind the promise Anna had made earlier and her brows knit in consternation. ‘An offer made impetuously at best, I fear. Apart from the officer’s name, I know nothing about the man and have no idea if he is even worthy of an introduction.’
‘Then allow me to set your mind at rest. I happen to know that Lieutenant Giles Blokker is an amiable young man who, despite having behaved with the decorum of a rambunctious puppy, is an excellent catch. His father is Major Sir Gordon Blokker, who distinguished himself with Wellington on the Peninsula, and his mother is the former Lady Margaret Sissely. The boy was educated at Eton, went on to read English and history at Oxford, and, as his father’s only son, he is heir to a considerable estate. More importantly, I believe he is the kind of man of whom both Miss Banks’s mother and father would approve.’
Surprised by the extent of the man’s knowledge and by his willingness to share it, Anna inclined her head. ‘I am grateful for your recommendation, sir. How fortunate that you are so well acquainted with the officer.’
‘In fact, we’ve never met. But one hears a great many things during the course of one’s social day, and if I feel it is information that may be of use to someone else, I am happy to pass it along. I trust that, in this instance, it serves you well. Good evening, Lady Annabelle.’
With that, he bowed and walked away, leaving Anna with a host of unanswered questions tumbling around in her brain.
Who was he, and why did his sudden appearance at her side not seem as coincidental as he might like her to believe? By telling her all he had about Lieutenant Blokker, he’d put her in the enviable position of being able to make the promised introduction, aware that not only might she be introducing Miss Banks to her future husband, but that he was a gentleman worthy of the role. Had he known more about the predicament in which she’d landed herself than he had chosen to let on?
Not surprisingly, Anna found herself watching the handsome stranger as he moved around the room. She noticed that he did not linger with any one person or group for any length of time, but that his gaze touched on every person there, his expression unreadable as he took note of who they spoke to and with whom they danced. Even when he stopped to speak to an upright older gentleman who was clearly intent on engaging him in a serious conversation, his eyes continued in their restless study. Was he was a private investigator of some kind? He looked too aristocratic for such an occupation, but then, perhaps a man who didn’t look the part was exactly the sort of man who should be doing that kind of work.
He’d certainly made an impression on her. For once she’d actually enjoyed having a conversation with a gentleman newly met at a society function. Normally, she was quick to wish them over, knowing all too well what they were really all about.
Is this someone with whom I have anything in common? Do I feel a connection strong enough to spend the rest of my life with him? And, of course, what do we each stand to gain by aligning our families in marriage?
They were all questions Anna had asked herself in the past. And with that one unfortunate exception where the marriage would have been a disaster, the answers were always the same.
No, not likely, and nothing.
But this gentleman intrigued her. She found herself watching for him in the crowd, curious to see how he acted with other people, anxious to catch just one more glimpse of him. Wanting to know if he might be looking back at her.
And when he did and Anna felt her gaze trapped in the soft silver glow of his eyes, she knew it was too late to look away. She had carelessly exposed herself, allowing her interest in, and her curiosity about, a stranger to be revealed. Was it any wonder that when he tipped his head and slowly began to smile, she felt the heat rise in her cheeks and the breath catch in her throat?
Goodness, who would have thought that with just one look, he could make her feel as awkward as a schoolgirl, as young and as gauche as Miss Mercy Banks. Surely as a mature woman of twenty-four, she knew better than to encourage the attentions of a man she’d only just met …
Anna dipped her head and boldly returned his smile. No, clearly she did not. But as she opened her fan and reluctantly turned away, the knowledge that a handsome man whose name she didn’t know still had the power to make her blush was more than enough to keep the smile on her face for the rest of the evening.
‘Parker, have you heard anything I’ve said?’ Colonel Tanner demanded in a harsh whisper.
‘Every word, Colonel.’ Sir Barrington Parker’s expression didn’t change, though he was careful to pull his gaze from the face of the exquisite young woman who had just smiled at him across the room. No small feat for a man who appreciated beauty as much as he did. ‘You wish me to investigate the disappearance of your mistress—’
‘I never said she was my mistress!’ the older man blustered.
‘There was no need. Avoiding my eyes while you described her told me all I needed to know,’ Barrington said smoothly. ‘She is approximately twenty years old, slim, with dark brown hair and rather startling green eyes. The last time you saw her she was wearing a pale blue gown with a white shawl and a bonnet with either blue or black ribbons.’
The older man grunted. ‘Apologies. Just don’t like blathering on to a man who doesn’t appear to be listening.’
‘I wouldn’t accomplish much if I didn’t listen, Colonel,’ Barrington said, though in truth he hadn’t been paying as much attention as he should. Through the mirror on the wall behind Tanner, he had been watching Lady Annabelle Durst attempt to play matchmaker. She had waited until Lieutenant Giles Blokker was in the midst of a small group of people with whom she was obviously acquainted and had sought the necessary introduction. Then, as the other couples had drifted away, she had engaged Lieutenant Blokker in conversation, no doubt with the intent of bringing Miss Banks’s name into the discussion.
At that point, Barrington had seen a look of cautious optimism appear on Blokker’s face, followed moments later by one of genuine happiness. When Lady Annabelle turned and started in the direction of Miss Banks and her mother, the young pup had fallen into step behind her, clearly delighted that he was on his way to being formally introduced to the young lady who had captured his heart.
‘Where did you last see Miss Paisley, Colonel?’ Barrington asked, reluctantly dragging his attention back to the matter at hand.
‘Hogarth Road. I keep a house there. Nothing elaborate, you understand,’ the Colonel said gruffly. ‘Just a place for friends to use when they come up to London.’
Barrington nodded. He knew exactly what the house was used for and it certainly wasn’t the convenience of friends. ‘I shall make enquiries. Where can I reach you?’
‘Best send a note round the club. Wouldn’t do to have anything come to the house.’
Barrington inclined his head. Though most wives knew about their husbands’ affairs, none wanted proof of them showing up at their front doors. ‘As you wish.’
‘Look here, Parker, it’s not what you think,’ the Colonel said, clearing his throat. ‘Eliza’s not like the rest of them. She worked as a lady’s maid in a respectable establishment until the eldest son took a fancy to her. When she was turned off without references, one thing led to another until she ended up in a brothel. That’s where I met her,’ he said, again not meeting Barrington’s eyes. ‘She told me her story and naturally I felt sorry for her, so I asked her if she’d like to come and work for me. I knew Constance was looking for a new maid and I thought it might be a way of getting Eliza back into respectable employment.’
Barrington’s smile was purposely bland. ‘And did your wife agree to take Miss Paisley on?’
‘She did, but it wasn’t long before she realised there was something going on and I had to let Eliza go,’ the Colonel said regretfully. ‘Felt so damned guilty, I offered to put her up at the house on Hogarth Road until she was able to find something else.’
With the small stipulation, Barrington surmised, that she become his mistress while she was there. A gentleman’s altruism only extended so far. ‘It would seem Miss Paisley has much to be grateful to you for, Colonel.’
‘I thought so, which was why I was so surprised when she left without telling me,’ the Colonel said. ‘Bit concerned, if you know what I mean.’
Barrington did know and he wasn’t surprised. Tanner was a decent chap, somewhere in his mid-fifties, with four married children and eight grandchildren. His wife had been in poor health for the last five years and, though he was devoted to her in every other way, her ill health had prevented them from enjoying a normal marital relationship. So he had turned, as so many men did, to the ranks of the demi-monde and there he had encountered Miss Elizabeth Paisley, the young woman for whom he had developed an unfortunate affection. Now she was missing and the Colonel was worried about her.
Probably with good reason, Barrington thought as he shook the man’s hand and walked away. It was a simple fact that women of Miss Paisley’s ilk were concerned with one thing and one thing only. Survival. It wasn’t easy making a living on the streets of London. A woman never knew if the man who pulled her into a darkened alley and threw up her skirts was going to be a paying customer or the last man she ever saw alive. Being a prostitute was not without its risks. But being the mistress of a wealthy man took away those risks and gave a woman security. It put a roof over her head and kept food on her table. So why would someone like Miss Paisley walk away from all that if she’d had any other choice?
It was a question Barrington couldn’t answer. And as he prepared to leave Lady Montby’s reception—after deciding it was best that he not stop to engage the delightful Lady Annabelle in conversation again—he realised it was one that would trouble him until he did. To that end, he made a mental note to ask his secretary to make some initial enquiries into Elizabeth Paisley’s whereabouts. Sam Jenkins had been with Barrington long enough to know what kind of questions to ask and who to ask them of. Then, depending on what he turned up, Barrington would either call upon one of his extensive network to continue the investigation or delve into the matter himself.
He wasn’t sure why, but as he climbed into his carriage for the short ride home, he had a feeling there was more to the disappearance of Miss Elizabeth Paisley than met the eye.
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