Alyssa Everett (15 page)

I grimaced. Contrary to Teddy’s generous estimation of my unworldliness, I knew exactly when my name and character were being dragged through the mud. Still, this was his future we were talking about, not mine. “Stop right there. I’m no great admirer of Lady Helen, I admit, but don’t go breaking off your engagement on my account. To be frank, she may have had her reasons for taking a jab at me. Her sister and I had a bit of a falling out last night.”

“Did you?” Teddy’s face registered interest. “So that’s why old Leonard was giving you the evil eye.”

“Never mind about that. The point is, when it comes to your marriage plans, leave me out of the equation. If the shoe were on the other foot and I were the one with the troublesome fiancée, I wouldn’t want you expecting me to choose between family loyalty and my heart. In fact, if I were in love, I wouldn’t give a tinker’s damn what anyone else thought.”

I was surprised to hear myself arguing against prudence, family interest and common sense, especially for something as absurd and insubstantial as love. That I should be doing it on behalf of manipulative, scheming Lady Helen made me wonder if I’d taken leave of my senses. But Teddy believed in romance and happily ever after—everyone in my mother’s family did—and I couldn’t allow him to sacrifice his future on my account.

Teddy shook his head. “It’s not just that. You heard her testimony. If she’d only said she saw me scuffling with Sam Garvey and he’d tripped and hit his head, the outcome of the inquest would never have been in doubt.”

“But, Teddy, the footman’s death was ruled an accident. You’re a free man. And Lady Helen
didn’t
see you scuffling with Sam Garvey. You told me yourself he was already dead when you came upon them.”

“I know, but...”

“Besides, it’s not as if she completely threw you to the wolves, is it? She said she was too frightened to remember what happened.”

Teddy’s jaw assumed a stubborn angle. “Yes, but she should have lied for me. I did as much for her.”

I stared at him, my mouth hanging open. “What kind of tortured logic is that? Do you mean you actually want to marry a liar?”

He looked momentarily nonplussed before answering, “Well, yes, provided she’s lying for my sake.”

Sometimes Teddy made me want to tear out my hair. “But if a girl lies
for
you, who’s to say she wouldn’t lie
to
you? Much better to have a girl who says precisely what she thinks.” Leaning one shoulder against the doorjamb, I spread my hands. “Take a girl like Barbara, for instance. She’s notoriously difficult and she wouldn’t know how to be tactful if she took lessons, but there’s no doubt where a man stands with her. I’d rather be ignored by that sort of girl than flattered by one who deals in false coin.”

Now that was ironic. I’d been ignored all day by Barbara, who’d stayed home from the inquest just to avoid me, and it had irritated me no end. Still, this was no time to explore my personal grievances, no matter how great the provocation.

“But that’s the problem.” Teddy’s forehead furrowed in a befuddled expression. “I’m not sure I really know Helen at all. That footman fellow was being too forward with her, and she never confided in me. And then there were those hints she kept dropping about you today at the inquest.”

“I told you, leave me out of this. I’ll wager she was only doing her sister’s bidding.”

“Even setting that aside, I have an uneasy feeling about her. I could swear she’s hiding something. Say you’ll come with me, Ben. I won’t have the courage to cry off unless you do.”

I hardly knew how to answer. He was right to be uneasy about Lady Helen. I’d seen the blackmail letters she’d received. But it still seemed a hasty decision on his part, one he would abandon again as soon as he faced Lady Helen’s tears. Besides, for some reason I didn’t care to examine, I was oddly reluctant to see all connection broken off between my family and Barbara’s.

“I’m not exactly welcome at Leonard House right now,” I hedged, “either with Barbara or with her father.”

“All the better. If you’re in Lord Leonard’s black books, there’s less risk we’ll be drawn into a long, painful scene. We’ll just go there, give Helen the bad news, and tell her she’s free to claim she called off the wedding. Then we’ll make ourselves scarce.”

Assuming Lord Leonard didn’t challenge me to a duel first. Or I didn’t see Barbara, take leave of my senses and strangle her with my bare hands. Or Sam’s killer didn’t use me for target practice again. “Why don’t you ask someone else this time? How about John?”

Teddy pulled a face. “John’s been avoiding me.”

“What are you talking about? He was at the inquest today.”

“Yes, at the inquest, and I see him at dinner most evenings, but he never has more than two words to say to me. It’s been that way ever since I asked Helen to marry me. I think he dislikes her.”

Or perhaps it was just that John knew she’d been involved with another man and that she was hiding her secret from Teddy. At least John had tried to tip Teddy a hint by telling him Sam Garvey had been making up to the girl. “All the more reason you should ask him rather than me if you’re going to break off your engagement.”

“I’m telling you, he won’t come with me. You come, Ben. You’ve never let me down before.”

Put that way, how could I refuse? The best I could do was stall for time. “It’s a bad idea to rush into these things, Teddy. The Leonards are probably still dining with your family anyway. Why not have dinner here, then go home and sleep on it? If you still feel the same in the morning, I’ll bear you company to Leonard House tomorrow.”

He considered a moment. “All right. If you insist, I’ll wait one more night. But at the very least, let me send a note to Leonard House, informing Lord Leonard I mean to call on him tomorrow. Get my foot in the door, so to speak, so I can’t lose my nerve.”

With any luck, he’d change his mind and the appointment would become a run-of-the-mill social call. And if it didn’t—well, as angry as I might be with Barbara, it still wouldn’t hurt to check on her safety. A man had been murdered under her very roof, after all. “Fine.”

Teddy sat down at my father’s desk and penned a short note. I rang for a footman, and Teddy instructed him to deliver the message to Leonard House.

It wasn’t until after Teddy and I finished dinner and he took his leave that I thought to wonder exactly how he’d worded his note to Barbara’s father.

Barbara

“Thank you for lifting my punishment, Papa.” I stood rigidly before the desk in my father’s study. Since the moment my abigail had relayed Papa’s wish to see me, my heart had been in my throat. He must have discovered the caricature in the
Courier.
Of course he would blame me. I’d be lucky to escape with a caning.

“I called you down here for a reason, Barbara.”

“Papa,” I began tremulously, determined not to cry, “if I’ve done something to upset you, don’t keep me in suspense...”

He rubbed his hands together. “On the contrary, it appears I may soon owe you that apology I spoke of.”

Apology? Apparently he hadn’t seen the caricature. Though I feared it was only a matter of time, I was grateful for at least this brief reprieve. “I don’t understand.”

With a smile, my father took a folded piece of paper from his desk and passed it to me.

After three days of brushes with a murderer, a blackmailer, a Peeping Tom and a libelous caricaturist, I had no idea what Fate meant to throw at me next. My hand trembled as I accepted the page.

It was a note, written on heavy paper of the finest quality. I unfolded it and read:

Lord Leonard,

With your permission, my cousin Beningbrough and I wish to call on you at one o’clock tomorrow to discuss the matter of marriage with your daughter.

Your most humble and obedient servant,

Cliburne

I looked up from the message in confusion. “Cliburne is bringing Lord Beningbrough with him? Why would he do that?”

“Don’t you see what this means? Beningbrough has decided to do the honorable thing and offer for you. He knows how unwelcome he’s made himself here, so he’s asked Cliburne to smooth his path.”

So this was Helen’s piece of good news. My pulse beat out of time. “I’m sure you must be mistaken, Papa. It doesn’t mention me by name. Isn’t it more likely Cliburne means to discuss his own wedding to Helen?”

“No, no.” My father waved one hand in an impatient gesture. “Use your head, Barbara. Cliburne runs tame here. Why would he waste his time sending a note if he wished only to discuss the wedding arrangements? More to the point, why would he bring that impudent cousin of his?”

“He’s brought him here before.”

My father scowled. “Only because Beningbrough subscribed to that filthy rumor about Helen and the footman. Fortunately, that’s all behind us now. Depend upon it, if Beningbrough comes tomorrow, it’s because he recognizes his duty to make you an offer of marriage.”

His duty? Perhaps Papa had a point. It did look odd that Ben should choose to return here after that dreadful scene on the stairs. And Cliburne’s note had come from Ormesby House—the paper had the duke’s crest embossed on it. Why should Cliburne have written a note on the Duke of Ormesby’s stationery unless Ben had put him up to it?

His
duty.
Now that I considered matters, Ben was too self-righteous to shirk anything resembling a duty.

“The question is,” Papa mused aloud, rubbing his chin, “should I consider his offer, or send him away with a flea in his ear? Is a duke’s son worth cultivating as a connection even if the boy is a lout and the duke in question is that debauché Ormesby?”

My hands balled at my sides. “Don’t my feelings enter into this at all? Aren’t you going to ask whether I wish to marry him or not?”

I wasn’t about to accept Ben. Even if I’d been wrong to assume he’d walked out of my life, he’d still never said or done anything to suggest he truly cared for me. So what if a proposal would mean looking my fill every day at those drowsy gray eyes and that sensual half smile? So what if he kissed better than I’d imagined possible? Whether because he’d seen the caricature in the
Courier
or because Papa had called him out, Ben was only offering for me in order to salvage my reputation.

“Naturally your feelings enter into it. But I’d advise you not to be too choosy. You’re not getting any younger, Barbara, and there aren’t many suitable men willing to offer for a girl as headstrong and plainspoken as you are. Now that I’ve finally brought Beningbrough up to scratch, you’d be a fool not to make the most of it. Think about that.”

I sighed. “Yes, Papa. Is there anything else?”

He frowned but answered brusquely, “No. You may go.”

Trudging back up the stairs to my room, I wondered why the only proposal I was ever likely to receive should leave me feeling so crushingly depressed.

My sister’s bedroom door stood ajar. I’d no sooner passed it than Helen came darting out, slipping her arm through mine. “There you are, Barbara! I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I take it Papa lifted your punishment?”

“Yes.”

She beamed. “Didn’t I tell you he would? Come in and sit with me, and I’ll tell you all about Beningbrough.”

“There’s no need.” Subtly, I tried to disengage my arm from Helen’s grasp. “Papa already told me.”

“He did? I’m surprised Papa even caught on.” Still clinging to my arm, she broke into a mischievous grin. “So what do you think? Isn’t it amusing? I did it for you, you know, because you sounded so blue-deviled this morning when you told me it was Beningbrough’s fault Papa locked you in your room.”

I was growing confused. “Did what for me?”

“Said all those things about Beningbrough and Sam, of course.” She laughed. “You should have seen the look on Beningbrough’s face. First he went pale, then he went red, then he looked as if he’d swallowed a hot coal.”

Alarmed, I spun to face her. “What did you say about Ben?”

She giggled. “I didn’t so much say it as hint it. I mentioned his father, and then I suggested ever so delicately that Beningbrough might have been interested in Sam.
Peculiarly
interested.” She squeezed my arm, her blue eyes dancing. “I so wish you could have been there to see it! But at least you’ll be able to read about it in the papers tomorrow. The reporters in the room practically swarmed Beningbrough as soon as the inquest was over.”

She went on chattering, but I was too stunned to answer as the horrible truth sank in.

Good God. Beningbrough wasn’t coming to propose marriage to save my reputation. He was coming to propose marriage to save
his.

Chapter Fourteen

Ben

“It could be worse,” Teddy said, reading over my shoulder as our carriage neared Leonard House.

Just as I’d feared, the papers had made a cake of me. Beneath the maddeningly ambiguous headline Dead Man in Love Triangle with Noble Heir, the
Times
had printed
The Marquess of Beningbrough
,
heir to the Duke of Ormesby
,
gave testimony on his rumored connection to the unfortunate manservant
. Papers like the
Evening Mail
and the
Star
had both walked a similarly fine line between opening themselves up to libel charges and making the sort of veiled accusations calculated to increase their circulation.

I cast a jaundiced eye in Teddy’s direction. “How could it be worse?”

He pointed to the article at the top of the page. “Now that the Cato Street traitors have been found guilty, everyone will have their executions to talk about. Instead of a nine days’ wonder, you’ll be a three days’ wonder.”

“What a stroke of fortune that I should have multiple violent executions to look forward to.” Angrily, I tossed the folded paper on the seat beside me.

I was still fuming when we reached Leonard House and the Leonards’ footman admitted us. As we made our way into the entry hall, my temper cooled to a simmer, replaced by a vague sense of nervous expectancy. Was it because poor Sam Garvey had been killed in this very room, or because there was a good chance I might catch a glimpse of Barbara?

“I told Lord Leonard in my note we were coming to discuss my engagement,” Teddy whispered beside me. “I expect he’ll try to talk me out of breaking it off.”

The footman ushered us not to the drawing room upstairs, but to the family’s ground floor morning room. I thought it an oddly informal place to receive us, given the nature of Teddy’s business with the earl.

We discovered Lord Leonard standing before the morning room window, looking inexplicably pleased with himself, his thumbs tucked in the pockets of his waistcoat. To my surprise, Barbara was in the room with him, perched with straight-backed correctness on the edge of the sofa. Despite the malicious way she’d treated me, I was glad to see her safe and sound, if only because I’d been spared the awkwardness of having to ask after her health.

“Come in, come in.” Lord Leonard beckoned Teddy and me further into the room. He seemed in an uncharacteristically hearty mood, especially for a man whose daughter was about to be jilted.

Entering, I stole another glance at Barbara. I had to admit, she was in looks today—not that she was ever out of looks, but today she wore a willow-green gown that clung enticingly to her every curve and highlighted the rich red of her hair. How monstrously unjust that any girl so mouthwatering should turn out to be scheming and underhanded.

Teddy bowed in her direction. I was about to sketch a mocking bow of my own, one as stiff and halfhearted as humanly possible. It dawned on me, however, that any hint of coolness would only give Barbara the satisfaction of knowing her sister’s barbs had hit their mark. Better to pretend I wasn’t in the least perturbed. The more courteous I was, the more unsatisfied it would leave her.

“Your servant, Lady Barbara,” I said silkily, giving her a low, exaggerated bow.

Her cheeks turned pink. A fresh sense of ill-usage shot through me at her self-conscious flush, a sure sign of guilt. So she
had
put her sister up to insulting me. Dash it, what had I ever done to her? I’d actually begun to wonder if I might be developing feelings for her, and she’d gone out of her way to mock me. It made me want to cross the room, take her by the shoulders, and kiss—I mean, and give her a good shaking.

Instead, I simply smiled a bland, unruffled smile and headed for one of the armchairs near the window.

“No, not there, Lord Beningbrough,” Lord Leonard said. “Let Cliburne sit there. You sit over here, closer to Barbara.”

I obliged him, since it made more sense for Teddy to sit facing the earl. As I settled myself on the chair before the sofa, Barbara cleared her throat portentously and spoke up. “I was pleased to hear the result of the inquest, Lord Cliburne.”

While Teddy thanked her, I studied her expression. Did she expect anyone to believe that coy look? Barbara didn’t have a coy bone in her body. If she thought she could provoke an angry reaction from me by mentioning the inquest, she was fair and far off.

To show her how unconcerned I was, I said, “Naturally, I’m also pleased my cousin was exonerated—though I’ll be happier still once we’ve dispensed with this marriage business.”

“Oh-ho! You do come to the point, my lord,” Lord Leonard said. “But you really shouldn’t take the outcome for granted.”

I supposed I couldn’t blame him for holding out some hope Teddy might be talked out of his resolve. After all, we’d come here once before on the same errand, and Lady Helen had managed to wheedle her way back into Teddy’s good graces. I wondered where Barbara stood on the matter of her sister’s engagement. To my added irritation, she wasn’t even making a pretense of looking at anyone now, but sat with demurely downcast eyes. What good was showing I didn’t care a rap about her scheming if she couldn’t even be troubled to notice?

“It’s best we settle the matter today,” Teddy ventured from his place near the window, twisting his hat nervously round and round in his hands. “Ben doesn’t much care for the idea, you see, and it was all I could do to persuade him to come.”

Barbara looked up, her slender brows drawing together sharply.

Lord Leonard likewise frowned. “Really, Cliburne, you might have kept that to yourself.”

As much as Lord Leonard must dislike the idea of Teddy’s calling off the wedding, I saw no point in dragging out the proceedings. “Cliburne is quite right,” I said. “I had misgivings about coming today, and I’m still not convinced it’s the wisest course, but after Lady Helen’s testimony at the inquest...” Realizing Barbara was staring goggle-eyed at me, I broke off. “Is something the matter, Lady Barbara?”

“Misgivings?” she echoed faintly.

I hadn’t expected her to thank me for trying to talk Teddy out of jilting her sister, but neither had I expected her to scoff openly at my good intentions. “Really, mightn’t you be more comfortable somewhere else? My cousin and I would prefer to speak to your father in private.”

Barbara’s mouth fell open.

“No, no!” Lord Leonard waved his hands in the air. “You’re going about this all wrong, Lord Beningbrough. You stay here and speak with my daughter. I’ll step into my study with Lord Cliburne so—”

Barbara had risen to her feet, two spots of color standing out on her cheeks. The heat of her glare fairly burned a hole through me. “If you’re not the rudest, most arrogant creature I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet!”

“Barbara!” her father barked.

I had come to my feet when Barbara rose, and now I stood glaring back at her. So she’d given up on playing coy and had decided to show her true colors. She was flushed with indignation, her eyes flashing, her bosom heaving. Despite the way she’d betrayed me, I couldn’t help thinking she looked like a goddess.

Teddy glanced from Barbara to me. “P’raps we ought to go to your study after all, Lord Leonard.”

Trust Teddy to turn craven as soon as matters grew heated. Unfortunately, Lord Leonard proved equally loath to stay. “Yes, yes, better to step out for a few minutes and leave these two to deal together.” He sprinted with Teddy to the door. As a parting shot, he called over his shoulder, “Mind your tongue, Barbara.”

“Ha!” she jeered as the door closed behind them.

Barbara

Papa should have saved his breath. How could I mind my tongue when Ben was so maddeningly, undeservedly puffed up?

“I’d begun to think you weren’t really as bad as everyone said,” I flung at him the instant we were alone. “But now...!”

“And I’d begun to think I could trust you.” Ben’s handsome face was as cold as marble. “Well, you certainly proved me wrong.”

“What do you mean? You’re the one who can’t be trusted, leaving me to face my father’s disapproval alone after we were caught together, then coming here now to insult me!”

“You flatter yourself, if you think my coming here today had anything to do with you.”

I swallowed down that insult to deal out one of my own. “On the contrary, I realize I’m simply your last resort now that the papers have painted you a man-milliner. I saw the digs at you in the
Times
this morning.”

His eyes had narrowed in confusion at the words
last resort
, but by the time I finished speaking, his angry scowl had returned. “No doubt you enjoyed a good laugh at my expense.”

“As a matter of fact, I was actually stupid enough to feel sorry for you. What a waste of my sympathy! Honestly, do you truly believe I would accept any man as arrogant as you?”

“Accept me? What are you talking about?” Ben’s forehead creased. “Wait, do you mean—
marriage?
”

He looked so flummoxed, I had the sudden paralyzing realization I’d just announced myself a fool, and in the most presumptuous and therefore most humiliating way possible. I wanted to snap,
No
,
of course not
, but between the mortification pinning me to the spot and the blush rising to scald my cheeks, I couldn’t get the denial out.

Oh, God. I
had
been flattering myself. Ben didn’t intend to propose. He never had.

I wished the earth would open up and swallow me whole, or a bolt of lightning would strike me down, or—oh, any disaster would be preferable to this one, provided it were final enough that I would never have to face Ben again. It must be plain to him that I’d been hoping for a declaration, and he had no intention of making one. In his eyes, I must be not only firmly nailed to the shelf, but the kind of pathetic, delusional old maid who lacked the sense to recognize my own ineligibility.

“Marriage!” he exclaimed, while I cringed inwardly. “Why would I offer up my head on the chopping block that way? I thought it was snub enough when you refused to come to the inquest, but those things you had your sister say—”

I’d been wracking my brain, trying to think of some way out of the humiliating corner I’d backed myself into, but the unjustness of Ben’s accusation broke through my distress. “
I
had her say?” I interrupted in a shaking voice. “What makes you think I had anything to do with Helen’s testimony? I have no control over my sister. I didn’t even learn about her testimony until late last night. As for the inquest, I spent all of yesterday locked in my bedroom, being punished for consorting with you—not that you bothered to inquire.”

And why should he have asked about me? He’d probably never given me a second thought. I might really have been killed in my sleep, and it wouldn’t have made a jot of difference to him. Ben had even gone back to his old mode of dressing, decking himself out like a stable hand to show me I wasn’t worth greater effort.

He looked momentarily nonplussed before his expression turned scornful. “Pardon me if I didn’t stop to ask how you’d been passing your time. I was somewhat preoccupied, what with the newspapers blackening my character.”

“They’ve blackened mine too, and at least they didn’t draw you with half your clothes falling off.”

He’d been about to make some angry retort, but this brought him up short. “Er, what?”

I stalked to my sewing basket, pulled out the folded sheet of newsprint I’d saved, and with two swift steps thrust it at him. “I mean this, you dolt!”

With a doubtful look, Ben took the paper from my hand and unfolded it, revealing the cartoon and verse from the
Courier.
As he examined the caricatures, I watched his face. In the space of seconds, it went from angry superiority to tense absorption to sick disbelief. I knew when he’d come to the end of the verse, because he swore under his breath and sank down on the sofa with a stunned look.

It served him right, the conceited oaf. Let all of London know what a heartless, self-centered ass he was. He
had
been gulling me, kissing me in my bedroom when he had no serious interest in me whatsoever, and the artist who’d drawn that caricature had seen it far better than I. It would serve Ben right if I had the verse printed on handbills and posted on every street corner in London just to humiliate him further. I would gladly lose my reputation if it meant serving him up a taste of his own medicine.

But when he slumped forward and dropped his head into his hands, a little of my righteous anger evaporated. As hurt and insulted as I was, I couldn’t help but feel a small stir of sympathy for him. Ordinarily he strutted about with more mettle than any other man alive, but for once he looked positively flattened.

“You mean you didn’t know about this?”

He looked up with an ashen face. “No, I hadn’t seen it. Was it in today’s paper?”

“Yesterday’s. The
Courier.
I’ve written the editor to ask the name of the artist, but I’m still awaiting his reply.”

“It’s...disgusting. And to think I’ve caused you to be subjected to this kind of insult...” Unable to finish, he simply shook his head.

At least he’d noticed he wasn’t the only one in the drawing. “Fortunately, my father hasn’t seen it yet, though I worry it’s only a matter of time. I can’t think what he’ll do if he learns about it.”

Ben laughed bitterly. “I dare say I ought to be worried about how my father will react, but something tells me it will simply become one more of those gross embarrassments everyone in my family knows about but nobody ever mentions.”

He sounded utterly demoralized, as if the caricature had accomplished what a gunshot and a blow to the head couldn’t. Yes, it was becoming hard not to feel sorry for him, which was strange because I’d suffered a good deal more insult and embarrassment in the past hour than he had. By rights, I should have remained furious.

But apparently I was more tender-hearted than I’d supposed, for sympathy was crowding out the worst of my anger. The caricature was such a blatant insult, far more brazen than the slurs in the pieces about the inquest. Given the way Ben had reacted two nights before when I’d mentioned the rumors about his father, I knew how sensitive he could be when it came to matters of reputation.