Simply Scandalous (22 page)

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Authors: Kate Pearce

BOOK: Simply Scandalous
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“No reason . . .” Emily shook her head and pushed her way past him. “How wonderfully convenient for everyone. Why on earth would poor little Emily need to know
anything?
”
She ran for her room, ignoring Richard's pleas for her to stop and talk to him. She paused only long enough to lock the door and then flung herself on her bed and cried as if her heart might break.
Eventually she sat up and considered what to do next. There was only one way to prove if she was right, and that was to get the journal from Thomas Smith. She could no longer depend on Richard to help her, and Jack, now being her fiance, might balk at upsetting her family too. A fierce longing for Ambrose gripped her and she fought another sob. She
needed
him, and this time she was going to insist that he help her, whatever his feelings were.
18
A
mbrose opened his eyes and then quickly closed them again as he realized he lay sprawled on the kitchen floor, an empty brandy bottle clutched to his chest. He had no idea what time it was, but the absence of Madame Durand and the kitchen maids fretting over him meant it wasn't yet dawn.
With a groan, he sat up and managed to crawl his way to the table so that he could stand. Pain lanced through his skull, and he clapped one hand to his head. After Christian had left the previous evening, he'd been too agitated to sleep and had ended up drinking steadily until he no longer remembered anything at all.
He put the empty bottle on the table and took a deep breath. Unfortunately, the events were now coming back to haunt him. The joy of finally touching Emily and bringing her pleasure, the agony of her turning away from him and encouraging Jack Lennox to marry her.
He considered making some coffee but decided it would be better to drink some ale to clear his head. The thought of food made him nauseous, so he stoked up the fire and settled down at the table with his tankard of ale.
Emily had insisted that she wanted him to talk to her father. Was he brave enough to risk that? Lord Philip Knowles was a peer of the realm, and socially so far above Ambrose that he might as well have been in heaven. But Philip was also married to Madame Helene. . . .
Ambrose considered this as he sipped at his ale. His salary at the pleasure house was quite substantial, and he had some savings. But he owned no property or land, and had no other income to supplant his wages. And what would he do if he married Emily? It was unlikely that the Ross family would want her to live at the pleasure house. At the very least they'd expect her to have a house of her own.
Did he even want to keep working at the pleasure house? He'd enjoyed his time there, but he wasn't wedded to the place as Christian was. He'd certainly enjoyed the sexual games, but would he miss them if he gained his heart's desire and married Emily?
“Good morning, Ambrose.” He looked up to see Christian's wife, Elizabeth, smiling down at him. She wore a thick paisley shawl over her nightgown, and her hair was still braided tightly to her head. “I came down to get some warm milk to help me sleep for a while longer. You look a little fatigued, my friend. Are you all right?”
Ambrose gestured at the empty brandy bottle. “I drank too much and fell asleep on the floor.”
“That's not like you.” Elizabeth sat opposite him. “Are you worried about Emily?”
He wasn't surprised at her direct approach. He knew Christian told her everything.
“Yes, Jack Lennox is going to ask for her hand in marriage today, and I'm fairly certain she'll take him.”
“But she is in love with you.”
“So she said, but when it came down to it, she refused to let me stand up for her.”
“Why do you think that was?”
He shrugged. “Because she finally realized I was too much of a coward to ever satisfy her?”
“That's ridiculous.”
“Of her or me?”
“Of you.” Elizabeth sighed. “Really, Ambrose, don't you understand that women don't always say what they mean?”
“I'm quite aware of that,” he said stiffly. “Emily
said
that she loved me, and then turned around and accepted Jack Lennox's offer to wait on her father in the morning.”
“Probably because she wanted you to defy everyone and claim her for your own.”
Ambrose realized he was glaring at his employer's wife. “She was the one who stopped me talking!”
“She was probably afraid for you, then.”
Silence fell and Elizabeth continued to study him as though he was a particularly slow pupil. At first, Ambrose couldn't think of anything to say to her. What would Emily have tried to protect him from—his best friend, Christian?
“You speak in riddles.” He stood up and bowed. “And I have to go and change.”
Elizabeth regarded him calmly. “Think about what I said. Emily is not a fool. Perhaps she understands you better than you think.”
 
By the time Ambrose had bathed, changed into clean clothes, and shaved, it was well past seven o'clock and time for him to start work. He came back down to the kitchen, said a cheerful good morning to Madame Durand, and set about the task of reading the morning newspapers. It was not entirely for pleasure. He always paid attention both to the latest scandals that might affect the guests and to the fashionable crazes to inspire new ideas for the staff.
He almost checked to see if any notice of an engagement between Emily and Jack Lennox had been announced, but even he realized it would be too soon. While he dressed, he'd decided that despite Elizabeth's hints, there was nothing he could do to stop Jack approaching Emily's father. If she truly wanted to marry Jack, he wasn't going to stop her. For all his faults, Jack was far more socially acceptable as a husband than Ambrose would ever be.
“Here's the morning post, Mr. Ambrose, sir.” Seamus Kelly placed a pile of mail on the table beside Ambrose.
“Thank you, Seamus,” Ambrose said.
He put down his paper and turned his attention to the mail. Most of it was for Christian, and some that was addressed to Madame Helene would need to be opened and read to see whether it was pleasure house business or not.
His gaze settled on a letter addressed to him in an unfamiliar handwriting. He used his penknife to break the seal and unfold the single sheet.
Dear Ambrose,
My mother is rather ill and would like to meet you before she retires to Bath to take the waters. Would it be possible for you to take tea with us today at four?
Yours,
Lady Mary Kendrick
Ambrose read the letter through three times, noting the Kendrick family address remained the same. Perhaps meeting with Lady Kendrick would keep his mind off the other, more pressing matters currently circling frantically through his mind. Not that he cared if Emily agreed to marry Jack at all. . . .
He screwed the note up and threw it in the fire. Jethro, at least, would be delighted if Ambrose made the effort to see Lady Kendrick. Whether Ambrose would be able to follow his advice and forgive the woman was another matter.
Ambrose returned to sorting the mail but realized his usual peace was disturbed. He'd hoped that by returning to the safety of his allotted tasks at the pleasure house, he'd regain his sense of calm and security, but it seemed as if he was no longer safe anywhere anymore.
He wondered how Emily was faring, and whether Lord Philip Knowles had met with Jack yet. Perhaps Christian had been wrong, and Jack was playing a deeper game than anyone could possibly have imagined. If he married Emily, his claims to his English title would have to be taken seriously, and with Emily's money at his disposal, he would have the power to pursue those claims to the end.
“Ambrose?”
He looked up to see Christian waving at him from the door.
“Yes, Mr. Delornay?”
“Will you come into my office for a moment? I wish to review the staffing numbers for the month.”
“Certainly, sir.” Ambrose got to his feet and folded up the newspaper. An hour in Christian's bracing presence would concentrate his mind wonderfully and allow no further useless speculation about Emily, Jack Lennox, or his future.
 
Violet waited until Jack had greeted Richard and taken a seat opposite her by the fire. Before he could speak again, she fixed him with her hardest stare.
“Why on earth did you offer to marry Emily Ross?”
Jack glanced at Richard, who nodded at him to go on.
“I thought she needed my help.” Jack sighed. “I
thought
Ambrose would leap to defend her and everything would be out in the open.”
“What do you mean?” Violet asked.
Richard came to sit on the arm of her chair and took her hand in his. “Emily insists that she is in love with Ambrose.”
“The African manager at the pleasure house?”
“Indeed. They have known each other for quite a few years. I suspect the attraction is mutual.”
“Then why has Jack gotten involved?”
“Because Miss Ross asked me to help her make Ambrose jealous,” Jack said.
“Oh, Jack,” Violet scolded her twin. “When will you learn to stop meddling?”
He shrugged. “Never, I expect.”
“Do you
want
to marry Miss Ross?”
Jack sat back and contemplated her and Richard. “She is a remarkable woman. If she wasn't already in love with another man, I might consider it.”
“Not if I have anything to do with it,” Richard growled. “I assumed my father would send you about your business. How the devil did you persuade him to agree to the match?”
“I didn't. Miss Ross simply declared that her father was delighted with the idea and promptly left. Lord Knowles asked me if I could come and see him at a more convenient time, and I agreed.”
“So there is nothing official yet.” Violet nodded. “At least we are spared that.”
Beside her, Richard stirred. “I'm worried about Emily. She is hiding something from me.”
“I agree that she seems quite unlike herself,” Jack said. “Her behavior at the pleasure house was quite unexpected. She—”
“Unlike you, Jack, I don't wish to hear the details of what my sibling got up to at the pleasure house,” Richard interrupted Violet's twin quite mercilessly. “Which brings me to the other reason we asked you to meet us here this afternoon.”
Violet nodded. “I've told Richard about Mr. Brown and how I am supposed to assassinate you.”
Jack exhaled. “Well, I'm glad to hear that he knows.” He considered Richard. “How on earth did you manage that?”
Violet felt herself blush as she remembered Richard's most unorthodox methods of obtaining information. “Richard believes Mr. Brown must have realized by now that I have no intention of killing you and is now after me himself.”
“Have we any idea who he is yet?”
“Apparently not,” Richard said. “Although the continued disappearance of Lord Keyes makes me wonder if he is Mr. Brown himself.”
“Or has been done away with by Mr. Brown,” Violet said.
“I suppose that is possible.” Jack crossed his booted feet. “If Keyes is of no further help, how are we going to protect Violet? I had hoped that once Keyes had heard all her evidence, he would pass it on to the relevant people, and Violet and I would be free.”
Richard grimaced. “That gives me even more reason to suspect that Lord Keyes was disposed of.” He brought Violet's hand to his lips. “Don't worry, my love. I'll keep you safe.”
Jack eyed Violet and then smiled. “You really have brought him around, haven't you? Well done.”
Violet tensed. “Don't make it sound as if I did it for material gain.”
To her surprise, Richard chuckled and kissed her hand again. “It is all right, Violet. I know my own worth. This time I'm going to continue to trust you.”
“Right up until the moment when she plunges her dagger into your heart and twists it until you are dead,” Jack added, then held up his hands. “I was only joking, twin.”
“Then perhaps you might stop?” Violet hesitated. “I thought it might be best to draw Mr. Brown out into the open.”
“Did you?” That was Richard, and he didn't sound very pleased with her at all.
“I know you won't approve.” Violet looked from Jack's skeptical expression to Richard's furious one. “I just want to catch this man, and the only way I can think of is to offer myself up as bait.”
“And you
think
Jack and I will allow that?”
Violet rose from her seat and walked away from the two men, presenting them with her back. “It is not a question of what you will allow. I am quite capable of making my own decisions.”
“Violet, you asked for my help! Why ask if you have no intention of accepting it?”
She spun around. “Richard . . .”
“I think there might be a better solution,” Jack said. Violet and Richard turned to look at him.
“What?”
Jack met her gaze, his blue eyes sparkling. “You assassinate me. I wager that will bring Mr. Brown out of hiding
and
get me out of my engagement.”
 
Just before four, Ambrose dressed in his best coat and waistcoat, and decided to walk to the Kendrick mansion, which wasn't far from the pleasure house. His early-morning headache hadn't quite gone away, so the fresh air would be most beneficial. And he needed to think because, despite all his best efforts, he had been unable to distance himself from the idea of Jack Lennox marrying Emily. He'd tried to convince himself that he was better off worshipping her from afar, but it wasn't true. He wanted her in his bed, in his life, and with him forever.

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