Scoundrel Ever After (Secrets and Scandals) (12 page)

Miranda smacked her husband playfully on the arm. “Fox, they are clearly not going to the assembly. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be skulking about the window. What
are
you doing out here?”

The fear that had shot through Audrey when she’d heard the cough returned tenfold. She glanced at Ethan and hoped she didn’t look as panicked as she felt. He, on the other hand, looked calm and cool, not at all as if they’d just shared an incredible embrace that had been tragically interrupted.

“We’re actually looking for you.” Ethan smiled and the effect caused Audrey’s knees to wobble again. The man possessed devastating charm when he wanted to, and probably even when he didn’t. “We’re, ah—”

“Eloping,” Audrey said, sidling closer to him and putting her arm around his waist. There was no sense hiding what they’d been doing. And really, what else were they going to tell them? Their plan, rather, Ethan’s plan, had been to simply drop her at Bassett Manor and leave her to explain how she’d gotten there. However, now that they’d both encountered the Foxcrofts and they’d been caught in an embrace, it seemed a new plan was in order.

Miranda and her husband looked at each other, doubt clearly etched on their faces. Her mouth curled into a confused moue. “You came here on your way to Gretna Green?”

“Something like that,” Ethan said smoothly, moving away from Audrey. “We’ve come a long way. Might we go to Bassett Manor for a bath and perhaps a meal?”

Miranda straightened. “Of course! We only just arrived for the assembly, but we’ll have the coach take you home.”

Fox looked at her, his mouth lifting in a half-smile. “Shouldn’t we go with them? For propriety’s sake?”

“Why bother? They’ve clearly been traveling alone.” Miranda glanced at Audrey who was certain her face had turned a vivid scarlet. She gave her a commiserative smile. “Sorry, dear.” Miranda touched her husband’s arm. “I’m sure they want to get cleaned up. We’ll see them later. I refuse to miss the quarterly assembly.” She turned to look at Audrey and Ethan. “You see, my husband is the finest dancer in all of Wiltshire.”

Audrey didn’t think it would be seemly to argue that Ethan was, in fact, the best dancer in all of England. Probably because her opinion had more to do with his kissing than his actual dancing skill.

Mr. Foxcroft scrutinized Ethan. “Gretna Green, you say? You’re a bit out of the way if you’ve come from London.” His gaze raked over them again and he clearly wondered why they were dressed as they were—Ethan in an incomplete suit of clothing and Audrey in an unfashionable, ill-fitting sack. Thank God she at least had the bonnet to mask her disastrous hair, though she suspected it was a catastrophic mess after the way Ethan had tangled his hands in it. Heat bloomed in her belly and she tried desperately not to think of their kiss. Rather,
kisses
.

Ethan’s features were placid, his smile benign. “As I said, it was something like that. We’re not on our way to Gretna Green.”

Audrey recognized what he was doing; he’d done it with her the past few days. He acted as though he was answering questions in a polite fashion, but in reality he didn’t impart the information one was looking to ascertain. Then again, he’d also outright ignored her questions or told her plainly that he wasn’t going to answer them. She decided this was a better tactic.

“Might we discuss this later, Foxcroft?” Ethan asked. “I’d like to see Miss Cheswick to Bassett Manor right away.”

“Certainly, and it’s Fox.”

Ethan held out his hand. “Ethan Locke.”

Miranda offered her hand to Ethan, who pressed a kiss to her glove. “Fox, you remember, he’s Lord Lockwood’s brother.”

Ethan smiled broadly. “Indeed. We, ah,” he glanced at their horses, “have mounts that will need to be tended.”

“We’ll send a couple of grooms to collect them when the coach comes back to retrieve us. Fox?” She inclined her head toward the coachman.

Fox shook his head at her, then went to direct the retainer. When he returned he said, “Everything is organized. The coachman will take you to Bassett Manor straightaway.”

“Thank you.”

Miranda went to Audrey and linked arms with her. “Pardon us, gentlemen.” She moved her away a few steps and whispered, “What the devil are you doing here with him?” Her gaze dipped over Audrey’s form. “And just look at you. Good Lord, what happened?”

“It’s a dreadfully long story. I’ll tell you about it later.”
Which will give me time to figure out exactly what to say.
“However, if you have clothing we might borrow . . .”

Miranda waved her hand. “Of course. Just ask my maid for whatever you need.” She turned and led Audrey back to where Ethan had moved to stand near the coach. “See you later!” She waved, then dragged her husband into the assembly.

Ethan, meanwhile, helped Audrey into the coach and climbed in after her. They started moving almost immediately and the rumble and sway of the vehicle, and its delightfully cushioned seats, were a welcome respite from horseback.

Ethan sat on the seat opposite her. The lantern inside the coach showed the firm set of his jaw and the lines around his mouth. “That was unfortunate,” he said.

“Them catching us? Yes.” She’d been about to say the kiss had been anything but; however, she decided it might be better if they didn’t discuss it. Not when Ethan looked annoyed. “Are you angry?”

His features relaxed slightly and he leaned his head back so that he was looking at the ceiling of the coach. “No. I just have to readjust my plan.” He lowered his gaze and directed her a half-amused, half-frustrated look. “They think we’re eloping.”

“What else was I supposed to say? They saw us . . . you know.” Audrey scooted toward the corner where the lantern light didn’t quite penetrate, in the hope of shadowing her flaming cheeks.

He pulled the curtain aside and looked outside. “I don’t know. I suppose we’ll simply tell them tomorrow that we’ve changed our minds. I’m sure they’ll agree to come up with a story that will preserve your reputation.”

“My reputation is beyond preservation.” She had no remorse about this, but recognized her family would be devastated. However, there was nothing she could do about it now. “My grandfather knows I left with you.”

He dropped the curtain and sat back. “If everyone thinks I kidnapped you, your reputation could be salvageable.”

She laughed, but it was hollow. “You don’t really understand Society, do you? I could tell them all you stole me away in the night but didn’t lay a hand on me. No one would believe that. Besides, I won’t let anyone think you kidnapped me, because you didn’t.”

A long moment of silence stretched between them before she continued. “Let’s just tell them we’re going to America together. Then we can leave after your arm is healed.”

“And actually go to America? My life—my brother—is in London, Audrey.”

“You left London. In quite a hurry too. Won’t Bow Street be waiting for you when you return?” How she longed to know why they were pursuing him.

“Probably.”

This time the heat in her face was due to anger. “Why won’t you just tell me what happened? It can’t possibly be worse than killing someone, and you’ve already admitted to that.”

He rubbed his hand over his eyes. “Audrey, please don’t ask me. I’ve told you far more than I’ve ever told anyone.” He lowered his hand and settled a dark glare on her. “Don’t make me regret that.”

She leaned slightly forward “People would help you. Your brother and Lydia. Me. And we know other people.”

“Your faith in people is astounding.” The disbelief in his tone filled the coach with a sour air. “You assume there’s a way to help me without even knowing what I’ve done.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “You see why it would be so much easier if you would just trust me?”

“What’s easy for you is bloody impossible for me. I can’t do what you’re asking.”

Weariness from the past few days of travel and from doing battle with him on this issue made her droop back against the seat. “No, you
won’t
. There’s a difference. I only hope someday you’ll find a way to see it.”

Chapter Seven

E
THAN WAS GRATEFUL
he hadn’t had to endure an interrogation from Fox last night. When he and Audrey had arrived at Bassett Manor, an ancient pile of stone that looked as if it was undergoing much-needed refurbishment, they’d both been shown immediately to their rooms. He’d enjoyed a meal and a bath in his chamber and had forced himself to fall into bed, where dreams of chocolate corkscrew curls and aqua eyes tortured him all night long.

Now, however, the stark light of a bright October morning streamed through the hall windows, and as he stepped into the breakfast room, Fox was already seated at the table.

“Good morning,” Fox said, smiling. He indicated the sideboard, which was stacked with food. “Help yourself.”

Ethan goggled at the amount and variety of items. There were ham and kippers, potatoes and turnips, eggs, bread, and cheese. It was an awful lot of food for Fox and his wife and their guests.

Fox interrupted Ethan’s cataloging of the menu. “Miranda wanted to have a proper breakfast for you. I told her it was too much.”

“Perhaps.” Regardless, Ethan was hungry and would do his best to put a dent in her array. He piled a plate high and joined Fox at the table.

Fox eyed Ethan’s plate. “Perhaps
not
.” He popped a bite of toast into his mouth. Then he sat back in his chair. “So, you’re not exactly eloping to Gretna Green. Pardon me, I have to ask.”

Ethan understood. It was why he’d planned what to say. He only hoped Audrey would cooperate by crying off before they went anywhere. Otherwise, he’d have to be the one to leave her, and he didn’t want anyone thinking she’d been abandoned—she deserved better than that. “No, we’re headed to Plymouth where we plan to take a ship for America.”

Fox shot forward in his chair. “The devil you say. That’s quite a departure.”

Ethan shrugged. “I’m the bastard son of a viscount. My prospects are likely better there.”

Fox settled back in his chair. “Your prospects are whatever you make them. I can see the benefit of starting in a new place, of establishing yourself. However, it’s not as if you wouldn’t be accepted here. I suspect you’d gain entry into more places as Lockwood’s bastard than I do as a legitimate nobody.”

Ethan scooped up a spoon of potatoes. “You’re not a nobody. You’re married to the Duke of Holborn’s daughter. That will gain you entry anywhere.”

“You know what I mean. Before Miranda, I wasn’t fit to clean the man’s boots.” Fox’s mouth twisted wryly. “Believe me, he told me so.”

Ethan swallowed. He understood what Fox was trying to say, and didn’t disagree with him. In fact, Ethan had counted on his ability to claim a place in Society despite his illegitimacy. He was, as Fox had pointed out, the son of a viscount. That counted for something and while it wouldn’t give him carte blanche, it would likely allow him to do just about everything he wanted.

Which was what? Attend house parties? Take tea with London’s elite? Obtain a voucher to Almack’s? He nearly choked on the bite of kippers he’d just taken. So maybe not Almack’s, the horror, but he thought he might like a house party or two. His last few days on horseback had been painful, but he’d recalled the lessons he’d taken as a lad, the promises of riding with his father, of joining him on a hunt, and he’d begun to revisit the dreams he’d thought long destroyed. Dreams that were still likely unreachable, given his problems with both Bow Street and Gin Jimmy.

“You should come with me to the orphanage today,” Fox said. “I’ll show you what we do there.”

Ethan was surprised to find he was actually tempted to stay for a few days. He told himself it was because he was tired and he wanted to rest his arm, but there was something appealing about spending a day or two with Audrey before he left. Or at least today. Since she hadn’t left her room yet this morning, there hadn’t been an opportunity to organize their plan. He might as well accompany Fox to his orphanage. “Yes, show me your orphanage.”

Fox pushed back from the table and stood. “Excellent. I’ll meet you out front when you’re finished.”

Ethan nodded and welcomed the peace of enjoying his breakfast the way he so often did: alone.

Little more than a half hour later, Fox steered his cart up the long drive to Stipple’s End, a monstrosity of a building that was equally as ancient as Bassett Manor, but less stately in its appearance. Ethan didn’t know much about architecture, but even he could recognize the house had been renovated many times over the past centuries.

He didn’t bother censoring his reaction. “How old is this place?”

Fox chuckled as he steered the cart around the building to a stable area in the back. “Six hundred years. But that’s just the original building. The various enlargements happened at different times.”

Ethan surveyed the peaks in the roof, part of which appeared to be newly repaired. “And you said it’s been in your family nearly as long as it’s been in existence?”

A boy maybe twelve years old rushed to meet them. Fox handed him the reins as he climbed down. “Thank you, Charlie.”