Read The Hellion and The Heartbreaker Online
Authors: Jennifer McNare
Rolling her
eyes, Tess turned to follow.
Monsieur
Deville had immediately earned Oliver’s favor the night before, when he had
prepared a delicious chocolate mousse for their evening’s desert.
Scarlett smiled ruefully, for unbeknownst to her, poor Mrs. Crawley
had acquired a new rival for Oliver’s affection.
Hours later,
as she finished the last of her toilette, Scarlett sat before her vanity
mirror, trying in vain to quell the butterflies that seemed to be flying about
in her stomach. The marquis would be arriving at any moment and her
nerves were starting to get the best of her.
Rising from
the small bench seat, she walked over and opened the connecting door that led
into Oliver’s room. Quietly, so as not to awaken him, she walked to her
son’s bedside. She stood gazing down upon his angelic face, his
expression so peaceful in his slumber, and felt her anxiety slowly begin to
ebb. She bent down and brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, and then
placed a feather-light kiss upon his brow. When she straightened her
courage was all but restored. She had done whatever she’d had to do to
protect her son, even before he was born, and she wasn’t about to stop now.
With her
head held high, she descended the stairs a short time later and met the waiting
Marquis of Fordham with a radiant, optimistic smile.
“Good
evening, My Lady,” he said, tipping his head. “Please allow me to say
what an absolute vision you are.”
“Thank you,
My Lord,” she said, taking his proffered arm. “You are quite an
impressive sight yourself.” William Morton was a striking figure
indeed. Dressed in his immaculately tailored evening clothes, his thick
golden hair neatly combed, his handsome face freshly shaven and his expression
reflecting his natural good-humor, he was a remarkable-looking man. If
only the sight of him made her heart go all aflutter as it always had with Alec
everything would have been perfect, but instead, she felt only a genuine
fondness for the dashing marquis.
“Fordham,
it’s good to see you,” Colin said, extending his hand as he walked into the
foyer.
“Kenston,”
he replied, shaking Colin’s hand. “I heard you made off with a tidy sum
from Derbyshire the other night at White’s.
“Indeed I
did. Though Derby’s so plump in the pockets I’m not sure he even
noticed,” Colin chuckled good-naturedly.
“The duchess
sends her regards by the way. She is waiting in the coach.”
“Please give
her mine as well. I know Scarlett will be in good hands this evening.”
“I guarantee
it,” William assured him with a decisive nod, clearly understanding the earl’s
concern for his sister.
As the marquis assisted Scarlett into the luxurious coach a moment later, she
came face to face with the Duchess of Mawbrey. To her surprise, the
duchess greeted her as if she were a long-lost friend rather than merely a past
acquaintance, instantly putting her at ease.
“My dear,
it is so lovely to see you again,” she said, grasping Scarlett’s hand as she
settled into the seat next to her.
“Thank
you, Your Grace. I am honored that you would allow me to accompany you
this evening,” she replied humbly.
“We are going
to have a lovely time dear, don’t you worry.”
“That’s
right,” William agreed as he climbed into the coach, taking the seat opposite
the two women as a liveried footman closed the door behind him. “Mother
and I are in total agreement. Your return to London is going to be
nothing short of a smashing success.”
As the
coach rolled forward, Scarlett wished she possessed their confidence.
During the
ride to the theater, the three of them kept up a lighthearted and easy
conversation. Scarlett learned that the duke was off studying the ancient
ruins in Greece and had been gone for several weeks. The duchess didn’t
seem to mind her husband’s adventurous nature, but she wasn’t as fond of
traveling herself. “I’m afraid I find extended travel far too wearisome
these days,” she avowed. “Though I fear my dear husband will never lose
his quest for adventure, I am contented here at home.”
It was
clear that William often played escort to his mother when his father was away,
and Scarlett appreciated the genuine affection the two seemed to have for one
another. It was times like these that she so deeply regretted the loss of
her own parents.
Fortunately, despite
their loss, her life had been filled with an inordinate amount of love thanks
to her brothers, and for that she would be forever grateful.
When their
coach at last came to a stop in front of the Royal Theatre, Scarlett took a
deep, fortifying breath. In the next few minutes, her future would most
likely be decided. She would either be welcomed back into Society’s good
graces, her scandalous elopement graciously forgiven, or she would be cut and
forever shunned for running off with the fictitious Ian McKinnon.
Noting her
sudden apprehension, the duchess reached out and squeezed her hand reassuringly.
Scarlett was well aware that the Duchess of Mawbrey was a force to be reckoned
with within the
ton’s
tightknit
circle. She was one of the gentry’s most admired matriarchs and had long
been regarded as a social icon. As she met the duchess’ steady gaze, she
could almost read the message in her eyes; if anyone dared give her the
cut-direct, knowing that the duchess was championing her, they would be making
a crucial mistake.
As William
assisted them from the vehicle, Scarlett lifted her chin and donned a confident
smile, despite the sudden weakness in her knees. She thought again of her
son and bravely took the marquis’ arm as his mother took the other. The
three of them then made their way to the steps leading up to the theater’s
entrance and began their ascent.
As soon as
they entered the brilliantly lit lobby hung with several massive crystal
chandeliers, heads began to swivel in their direction. When their gazes
fell upon Scarlett, eyes widened, jaws dropped and conversations halted in
midsentence.
Seemingly
impervious to the wide-eyed stares directed toward their threesome, the duchess
immediately spotted and made eye contact with the Earl and Countess of
Standshire
, and then moved purposefully in their direction.
The
Minton’s had hosted the very first ball Scarlett had attended during her debut,
and were definitely one of society’s most prominent and influential
couples. Their reaction to her presence would be a crucial indicator of
her impending success or failure, and everyone around them seemed to be
watching the ensuing encounter with bated breath.
“Penny,
Nevel, how lovely to see you,” the duchess greeted. “You remember Lady
Scarlett, of course,” she said, gesturing toward Scarlett.
Clearly
taking her cue from the duchess, Penelope Minton who was widely known to be a
close friend of the Morton family didn’t miss a beat. With her voice
carrying clearly to those around her, the Countess of Standshire spoke in a
pleasant, welcoming tone. “Of course, how wonderful to see you again.”
With that
one simple sentence, Scarlett realized that she had been granted a
reprieve. For herself, she couldn’t have cared less, but for her son she
was elated and immeasurably grateful.
The hush that
had settled over the crowd close enough to witness her entrance, suddenly
evaporated and conversation began flowing rapidly. Within moments, people
eager to renew their acquaintance with the illustrious Scarlett Angel
surrounded her. Stunned by the ease at which she had been accepted back
into the fold of the notoriously harsh and unforgiving nobility, Scarlett
quickly shook off her astonishment and with a gracious charm and beguiling
manner that would have made her brothers proud, she began to repair her damaged
reputation.
The
Marquis of Fordham stayed protectively by her side as they made their way
through the crowd, which had slowly begun moving in the direction of their
seats. She had yet to see Alec, and after a while assumed he wasn’t
there. She realized that she was mistaken however, when a few feet from
the entrance to the Morton’s private box, her gaze inadvertently fell upon his
unmistakable form. He stood several inches taller than most of the other
men there, and even though she glimpsed only his profile, she recognized him
immediately. For a moment her gaze was riveted on the handsome man who
had taught her the meaning of passion and love, as well as the pain of
heartbreak and loss; the man who had forever changed the course of her life.
As if
sensing her eyes upon him, Alec suddenly turned in her direction. His
gaze slid casually passed her, then snapped back a split second later.
His expression, unguarded for one brief instant, was one of incredulity.
Their eyes
met and held for one endless moment, and then feeling the gentle pressure of
William’s hand at her elbow, Scarlett turned away, her momentary distraction
thankfully having gone unnoticed as the marquis led her to their box.
Though she
tried to focus on the performance, it proved to be a difficult task. Once
everyone had taken their seats, it hadn’t taken Scarlett long to locate Alec’s
position. Like her, he was seated in a private box in the theater’s upper
level, somewhat kiddy-corner from their own. It gave her a clear,
unrestricted view of him, as well as the stunning young woman who sat next to
him.
The older, stern-faced woman seated
behind them, she could only assume was the young lady’s chaperone. She
forced her eyes not to linger overlong, though it was near impossible.
As Alec
tried to keep his focus on the stage, his thoughts now spinning in a dizzying
whirl made it a hopeless endeavor.
Scarlett had returned to London. He couldn’t have been more
surprised if one of the actors on stage had suddenly sprouted two heads.
He’d had no idea that she was in town, and the unexpected sight of her, on the
arm of the Marquis of Fordham no less, had left him feeling as if he’d received
a blow to his solar plexus. Sitting in his box, the lovely Vanessa Brookshire
beside him, he couldn’t seem to concentrate for even a second on the evening’s
performance.
With the
production begun, and Vanessa’s attention now occupied, he deliberately
searched the crowded theater. It took him only a moment to spot her,
sitting serenely beside the Marquis of Fordham and looking even more beautiful
than he remembered.
He watched
transfixed as Fordham bent his head to whisper something in Scarlett’s
ear. She turned toward him at once, smiling in response to whatever it
was that he’d said, before turning her attention back to the stage. Alec
watched in utter fascination. When at last he forced himself to look
away, he was held in the grip of a relatively foreign emotion, an emotion that
felt remarkably like jealousy.
As the
curtain drew to a close halfway through the performance, signaling a
twenty-minute intermission, William escorted Scarlett and his mother to the
lobby to procure refreshments and to mingle with the other patrons. Just
as before, Scarlett was quickly surrounded. Sipping her champagne, she
looked up and caught William’s gaze above the rim of her glass. His
meaningful expression was easily decipherable. It was a look that clearly
said,
See, I told you so.
She smiled warmly in return, knowing
that she would never be able to repay him for what he had done for her.
As she
made polite conversation, doing her best to concentrate on each exchange of
dialog, she surreptitiously scanned the crowd for Alec’s tall frame, but failed
to locate him in the large crush of people. Was he avoiding her she
wondered? The thought was surprisingly disheartening. Fortunately
she had little time to dwell on the matter, as she was repeatedly engaged in
conversation.
Just as
the bell signaled for everyone to begin returning to their seats, she turned to
follow the marquis and Alec was suddenly there, standing before her, the lovely
brunette on his arm.
“Worthe,”
William greeted amiably, “and Lady Vanessa, how nice to see you.”
Vanessa,
so that was her name, Scarlett thought morosely, as she eyed the petite beauty
clinging possessively to Alec’s arm.
“Fordham,
Your Grace,” he said bowing slightly to the duchess. “And of course, Lady
Scarlett, a pleasure to see you again.” His polite nod revealed nothing
of his inner thoughts.
“Hello, Your
Grace,” Scarlett replied, her own expression courteous, yet slightly
reserved. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” she said, looking pointedly at the
woman at Alec’s side.
“Ah,
forgive me,” Alec said. “Please allow me to introduce Lady Vanessa
Brookshire, Lady Vanessa,” he said, bending his head in her direction, “may I
present, Mrs.,” he paused slightly, “McKinnon, isn’t it?”
“Yes,”
Scarlett nodded, feeling suddenly ill at ease at Alec’s mention of her married
name. Fortunately, the awkward moment was cut short by Lady Vanessa’s
ensuing comment.