Brushed by Scandal (25 page)

‘I did hear something to that effect,’ Barrington remarked, ‘though it seems a bit strange that you would ask him to fetch something from your father’s room…a watch, I believe…when you were the one who was supposed to take care of it.’

The man gave a non-committal shrug. ‘My father asked me to attend to it, but I was busy, so I asked Rand to do it for me. I thought him competent enough to undertake a trifling matter like that.’

‘So you had no idea he would find the necklace lying right next to the watch when he went in search of it,’ Barrington said blandly.

Again, the shrug. ‘Had I known, I would have gone myself. I have no desire to see my father humiliated in the eyes of society, Parker. Or to see our family name tarnished by such a dishonourable act.’

‘No, I’m sure you do not,’ Barrington murmured, impressed
by the man’s ability to lie so convincingly when under the influence of the drug. ‘And, of course, it makes no sense that your father would steal anything from the woman he has asked to marry him.’

It wasn’t the truth, but it got the response Barrington was hoping for.

‘He hasn’t asked her to marry him,’ Hayle snapped. ‘Julia would have told me!’

‘You wouldn’t have heard it from your father first?’ Barrington probed.

‘My father doesn’t confide his plans to me any more. He hasn’t for some time.’

Barrington heard the note of resentment in Hayle’s voice and knew the loss of his father’s confidence, and perhaps his respect, rankled. ‘Still, it can’t come as a great surprise that he wishes to marry her,’ Barrington went on. ‘He’s made no secret of his affection for the lady. Your father is, in all ways, an honourable man. If he was in love with the baroness, he would naturally offer her marriage.’

‘Oh yes, just like he offered Rand’s mother marriage,’ Hayle said contemptuously. ‘But he didn’t, did he? He married my mother and ignored his bastard for the first twenty-seven years of his life. Hardly the behaviour of an
honourable man.’

‘It’s possible your father didn’t know of Rand’s existence,’ Barrington said. ‘It may have been brought to his attention only a few months ago.’

‘He knew he’d bedded Rand’s mother,’ Hayle said with contempt. ‘And the consequences of
that
are all too easy to predict.’

‘As I said, the relationship may have ended without his knowledge of there being a child,’ Barrington said reasonably. ‘Rand is older than you, so the association between your father and his mother was an early one.’

‘I don’t give a damn when he had the relationship or what they were to one another!’ Hayle burst out hotly. ‘What bothers me is that the moment my father learned of Rand’s existence, he brought him to London without so much as a by your leave.’

‘What did you expect him to do?’ ‘He could have asked me how
I
felt about it. I
am
his legitimate son and heir, after all!’

‘Perhaps he didn’t think it concerned you. Rand is his son by a woman you don’t even know. It’s hardly surprising that he would be suffering feelings of guilt—’

‘If my father was stupid enough to rut with a woman of low birth and then have feelings of guilt, he should have gone to the country, made his apologies to the family and left it at that,’ Hayle bit off. ‘He should
never
have brought his bastard to London and tried to pass him off as his
godson
so I might be made a laughingstock in society!’

‘And that’s what really bothers you, isn’t it, Hayle? That you have a brother you never knew anything about and whose existence is an embarrassment. A brother who shares your bloodline—’

‘He is nothing to me! Less than nothing!’ ‘He is your half-brother. And because you sensed that the moment he set foot in your house, you set out to humiliate Rand
and
your father by showing them both in the worst possible light,’ Barrington said mercilessly. ‘You had your mistress steal a necklace from the woman your father loved and then you tried to pin the blame for the crime on him, knowing that by exposing him, you would be humiliating your father as deeply as you felt he had humiliated you.’

If Barrington was hoping for a confession, he was destined for disappointment. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Parker. All I know is that the baroness’s necklace was
found in my father’s possession and that he must bear the consequences for his actions.’

‘And Miss Paisley? Would you see her hang for a crime she didn’t commit?’ Barrington pressed.

‘Why should I care? She’s a whore. She made her interest in me plain enough the first time I saw her and I wasn’t about to pass up the invitation. Unlike you, I have hot blood running through my veins,’ Hayle sneered.

Ignoring the slight, Barrington said, ‘So you expect me to believe that you didn’t take her as your mistress simply because she worked for the baroness and you knew that, through her, you could get your hands on the necklace.’

‘That’s right.’

‘You’d also like me to believe that you didn’t feed Miss Paisley a parcel of lies about how much you loved her, telling her that if she could steal the baroness’s necklace, the two of you would be able to start a new life together.’

‘Most certainly not.’

‘Nor did you tell her that you actually wanted the necklace so you could set up your father to look like a thief.’

‘You really have got the wrong end of the stick, Parker.’

‘Have I?’ Barrington shook his head. ‘I think you planned the entire affair as a way of getting back at your father. You seduced Miss Paisley and then persuaded her to steal the necklace for you. You planted the necklace in your father’s things and made sure Rand would be the one to find it, then
you
started the rumour that he was the one who named your father as the thief. Everyone knew that relations between Rand and your father were strained as a result of the affair with Lady Yew, so you reasoned it wouldn’t come as any great surprise if Rand took an opportunity to get back at your father. But the fact is that Rand would never do something like that because, unlike you, he has a conscience.’

‘A conscience!’ Hayle threw back his head and laughed.

‘You have the gall to say that after he slept with another man’s wife?’

‘Ah, but you laid the groundwork for that affair, didn’t you, my Lord?’ Barrington said.
‘You
told Rand about the state of the Yews’ marriage and
you
made a point of introducing him to her, knowing full well that she had a passion for younger men. Then, you made sure her husband found out and you asked him to go after Rand in public, knowing how furious your father would be when he learned what Rand had done. And by doing that, you thought you were giving Rand a reason for revenge against your father. It really was very well thought out. By trying to implicate your father and Rand, you attempted to destroy
both
their reputations at the same time.’

‘My God, Parker, you really should be writing lurid Gothic novels for love-struck young females. Either that, or the opium has already got to your brain,’ Hayle said derisively.

Barrington smiled. ‘Pleading innocence won’t wash, Hayle. I
know
what you’re guilty of. That’s why both Miss Paisley and her sister are safely beyond your reach. And if
you
know what’s good for you, you’ll confess to the part you played in this whole ugly affair.’

Again, Hayle laughed, but there was a nastiness to it that warned Barrington to be careful. ‘Why should I? It’s all supposition on your part. You don’t have a shred of evidence. And even if I was guilty, it’s not something that’s going to put me in jail.’

‘No, but it would make living in London intolerable and I think to a man like you, that would be almost as bad. When society hears what you’ve done, they
will
turn against you. No one will receive you and your reputation will be in shreds.’

Hayle’s eyes darkened with hate. ‘Get out!’ he snarled. ‘Get out before I forget I’m a gentleman and thrash you to within
an inch of your life.’ As if to make good on his threat, he rose unsteadily to his feet and took a lurching step forwards.

But Barrington merely stepped back and raised his cane. ‘I’d advise you to think again, Hayle. This isn’t the typical gentleman’s walking stick. It doesn’t break when it’s brought down with force on a man’s head. I know because I’ve done it before. And my reactions haven’t been slowed by the numbing effects of opium or alcohol. I guarantee that if you take me on now, you
will
lose.’

Eyeing the lethal-looking cane, Hayle hesitated, but his voice was rough with emotion when he said, ‘You won’t get away with this, Parker. By God, I’ll make you pay.’

‘No, my Lord,’ Barrington said.
‘You’re
the one who’s going to pay. Because if I have my way, you won’t be getting away with anything.’

* * *

It was nearly two o’clock in the morning when Barrington left the Nottinghams’ soirée. He’d had enough of glittering society for one night. He was tired of the games he was called upon to play, weary of the desperation he saw in the eyes of so many. When had it all begun to lose its lustre? When had moving in society become a chore rather than a pleasure?

He remembered how it had been when he’d first come home from France. How surprised he’d been at the extent of society’s welcome. Within days of his arrival, invitations to select gatherings had begun to roll in, as had sponsorships to the right clubs from gentlemen who had seemed genuinely interested in his welfare. He had been told which families to befriend and which to avoid in the same breath as he’d been told which tailors to patronise and which to ignore.

Then, of course, had come the ladies. All of them beautiful, many of them titled, a fair number of them married. They had shamelessly flirted with him, some in the hopes of eliciting a proposal of marriage, others in the hopes of
prompting a very different type of proposal. Had he chosen to partake, he could have had a dozen of them lining up to warm his bed.

But he hadn’t accepted their come-hither looks and it wasn’t long before the rest of the pleasures had begun to pall as well. A brief affair with the widow of one of his father’s friends, though sexually fulfilling, had left him feeling curiously dissatisfied, much like a hungry man who, having sat down to a magnificent buffet, discovered that the wine was bad and the food tasteless.

But the final blow had come during the investigation of the two men his late father had trusted and done business with. Men with whom Barrington had socialised and for whom he’d felt admiration and respect. Men who had turned out to be nothing more than parasites on the flesh of society. Greed had fuelled their quest for power and money and once their masks of civility had been stripped away, Barrington had seen them for the monsters they were.

The discovery had come too late to be of help to his father, but from that night on, Barrington had done what he could to make sure that other decent men were not so foully put upon. He’d begun listening to conversations, and when he heard something he didn’t like, he’d started asking questions. Quietly. Unobtrusively. Always careful not to raise suspicions in anyone’s mind. But he’d asked the questions he’d needed to get the answers that mattered.

He’d also started cultivating different friends. Friends not as highly placed in society. Friends who put more stock in a man’s worth than in his title. People he found himself able to trust. He also stopped putting faith in a person’s appearance. A lovely face could hide a heart of stone, just as an ugly one could disguise a generous and giving nature. He’d stopped basing his decisions on emotion and gut feeling and turned
to uncovering facts, doing whatever he’d had to in order to get at the truth.

It hadn’t always made him popular, but he hadn’t done it to win friends.

As the soirée wasn’t far from his house, Barrington decided to dismiss the carriage and walk home. He needed time to think through his situation with Anna. They hadn’t spoken since their last conversation and Barrington was beginning to think they never would again. Of all the disagreements they’d had, this was by far the worst…because he’d found her vulnerable spot and struck it hard. He had called her father’s honour into question. He had accused him of having a child with another woman and of not telling his legitimate son and daughter the truth.

And she, loyal to a fault and believing wholeheartedly in her father’s integrity, had retaliated by accusing Barrington of being a liar and completely insensitive to her father’s feelings. When he had tried to make her see her brother for what he was, Anna had told him he’d had no right to criticise and had steadfastly refused to believe that she was in any danger from Edward at all.

Unfortunately, Barrington had absolutely
no
doubt that Hayle was capable of violence and it infuriated him that Anna still tried to see the good in him, believing that his role as her brother would prevent him from visiting upon her the cruelty he so freely visited on other people. So it was up to him, Barrington realised, to keep her safe. Until Hayle could be dealt with, his priority had to be in keeping him away from Anna.

But apart from that, there was the other far more emotional situation between them: the one concerning their feelings for one another. Growing slowly but steadily, his had changed from simple liking and admiration to a deep and abiding love. Thoughts of Anna filled his days with longing and his
nights with hours of sleepless frustration. He wanted her in his bed. In his heart. In his life.

But the life he offered was not one most well-bred young ladies would wish for—and it certainly wasn’t what Anna deserved. For one thing, she would be settling for far less than was her due. As the daughter of an earl, a marquis or a duke wasn’t out of the question; given her incredible beauty, Barrington knew she would have no trouble attracting either. And yet she remained single, professing to want
him.
She’d told him as much in the way she’d kissed him, in the way her body had melted into his, in the way her arms had closed around him and drawn him close. She was a passionate woman with a heart that beat for those she loved and she would defend them to the bitter end, Peregrine Rand being a case in point.