The Scandal of Lady Eleanor (10 page)

“And you are telling me this for what purpose, Miss Aldridge?” James could not help but continue to smile at her forwardness. Fowler always thought “his Velvet” to be innocent and naïve; James was discovering otherwise.

“Because you, Lord Worthing, are going to help me figure out how to get through Bran's thick head and make him see I am the one woman for him.”

James glanced toward the open door, hearing a footman in the hallway. “Without betraying my friend, I suspect His Grace already knows you are the right woman, Miss Aldridge.”

“However, I must destroy his mantle of honor.”

“And how do you propose to do that?”

“Make him jealous.”

James laughed lightly. “Poor Bran—he has no idea what awaits him.”

“You will not tell him!” A moment of anxiousness escaped.

“I will keep your secret, Miss Aldridge.”

“Good,” she declared confidently. “Now, Lord Worthing, I need someone with whom to flirt.”

James held up his hands to stop her. “I will not be a part of your plan in that manner, Miss Aldridge.”

“Of course not,Your Lordship. Actually, I thought of you originally, but then I observed how you look at Ella.”

“How… how I look at Lady Eleanor?” he stammered. “How do you think I look at your cousin?”

Velvet's eyes lit up with amusement. “Like you want to hold her and never let go.”

James paused before responding. “Am I that obvious?”

“Only to those who are looking for love.”

“What do you require of me, Miss Aldridge?” James resigned himself to aiding her.

“Help me find someone to make Bran insanely jealous—enough that he will declare himself rather than let me go.”

James hesitated before answering. “Fowler may have supplied his own undoing. I know just the man. Gabriel Crowden, the new Marquis of Godown. He and Fowler are so competitive—whether it be cards or swords or clothing…”

“Or women?”

“I have never known them to compete over a woman, but I imagine it would be so. Surprisingly, they were at university together before joining me in our adventures. Godown is more dangerously introspective than Fowler—do not forget my warning on that point, Miss Aldridge.”

The woman appeared satisfied with her thoughts. “Would the Marquis help me?”

“If it meant bedeviling His Grace, I suspect Godown would be willing,” James said guardedly.

“Would you speak to Godown on my behalf? Seek out his help?” she implored.

“What do I get from all this?”

“More time alone with my cousin.” Velvet walked away from him. “You really did not think I became lost this afternoon, did you, my Lord?”

James self-consciously slid his hand in his pocket, fingering the pebble his son had given him. It was silly, but he carried it everywhere he went. Touching it now made him think of Daniel and of Ella and how they might all be together some day. “No, Miss Aldridge, I suppose I did not.”

“Then I have your assent, Sir?”

“Most definitely, Miss Aldridge. Operation Velvet Touch is underway,” he teased.

Velvet's smile grew with the thought. “Oooh! I like that, Lord Worthing. Operation Velvet Touch! Perfect!”

 

Shortly, Ella appeared at the drawing room door. “My brother sent me, Lord Worthing, to request your joining him in his study.”

James turned suddenly upon hearing her voice. “I thought to take my leave, but I will see what His Grace needs.” He crossed to where Ella still stood in the open doorway. Impulsively, he paused; mere inches separated them, and their eyes locked on one another.

Realizing the impropriety of standing so close, where everyone could see, James pushed off to step past her, but then the lightest touch held him in his place. A glance down showed him the source. Ella's hands remained at her side, but, intuitively, her index finger reached out to him—extended, it seductively stroked the back of his hand. No one could see the gesture, but James felt his breath catch in his chest.

“Would you be able to join us for supper, Lord Worthing?” When she licked her lips to add moisture, James swallowed his moan. “It will be a simple fare…only the family…even Sonali.”

James's vision rested on her mouth and the way her tongue glided across the seam of her lips and imagined being able to taste her whenever he wanted.“It would be my pleasure, Lady Eleanor.Thank you for including me.” Despite not wishing to do so, he stepped away, moving through the hall toward where her brother waited.

Ella glanced over her shoulder to watch him go before turning to her cousin. “Aunt Agatha wishes us to meet her in her sitting room.”

Velvet moved at last, catching up with Ella as they climbed the stairs. “That was some display of flirting,” Velvet sniggered. “How did you learn to do that?”

“Do what?” Ella asked, confused.

Velvet whispered, protecting their words from servants' ears. “Hold a man's interest so intently.”

Ella responded with surprise, “Did I do that?”

“As well as any woman would ever do.” Her cousin squeezed Ella's hand. “I need to start taking notes.”

“It was great fun. I did not plan it.” Ella smiled all at once. “Lord Worthing makes me feel different—as if I could be pretty.”

“You are pretty,”Velvet insisted.

Ella shook her head. “I am a duke's daughter; that is my appeal…what I have to give a suitor, but with, His Lordship, I feel he sees me, not my father, or Bran, or the dukedom. Is that bizarre?” She reveled in the intimacy she just shared with Lord Worthing, although the desire—the sensations it caused frightened her.

“That, dear Cousin, is love.”

 

“So, Shepherd believes Shaheed Mir seeks revenge for our foray all those years ago?”Worthing sipped on a brandy.

“Until of late, we kept our identities to a minimum recognition level. Now, each of us claims our place in British Society.”

Worthing had to ask. “What does your family know of Ashmita?”

“Not the truth, if that is what you ask.” Fowler shifted uncomfortably.

James paused for a long time. “And Shepherd's contacts found out what exactly?”

“Mir claims one of us walked out of that confrontation with an emerald the size of a man's fist. The Baloch wants it back.”

“An emerald?” James mused. “Who had time to look for an emerald?”

Fowler steepled his fingers before him, tapping them to his lips. “I cannot see any one of our men taking something of that value
without the rest of us knowing.”

“I assume, as you confide in me, you do not suspect I am culpable?”

“As we fought back to back through much of the hostilities, I cannot imagine your having the opportunity to rummage through Mir's tents; but even if that were not true, I would never suspect you of such thievery.”

“Then what do we do next? I cringe with the knowledge that our families are in danger.”

His friend became businesslike. “Obviously, we need to inform the others, although Shepherd feels we should not mention the emerald. If one of us has it, that person would know the Realm would not look on it in a positive manner. We need to find out if anyone else suffered attacks such as what I experienced.” James simply nodded, digesting what Fowler had just said. Engrossed in those thoughts, James did not anticipate the shift in the duke's line of thinking. “Now, Worthing, do you want to tell me what you know of my sister's sleepwalking episodes?”

James looked about uncomfortably. “I suppose the proper thing would be to respond in the negative, denying any knowledge of what you speak.”

“But you will not offer me such prevarications.”

“I will not.” James experienced anxiety's twinge under Fowler's close inspection. “I…I came upon Lady Eleanor my first night at Thorn Hall. I…I said nothing because I chose not to embarrass the lady. On two other occasions, when I found her wandering alone, I returned Lady Eleanor to her room.” Fowler waited in silence to see what else James might divulge, but James knew the technique—used it himself on more than one occasion. “When did you discover your sister's meanderings?”

“Actually, I have not encountered them firsthand. Eleanor's maid sought me out before we left Thorn Hall. As my sister's sleepwalking incidents increased and as no one here was aware of them, Hannah thought I should know. She let slip your involvement. I
am not sure, Worthing, that I appreciate your intimacy with Ella.”

“I assure you,Your Grace, that any interest I have in Lady Eleanor is purely honorable.”

“Really?” Fowler sat forward in his chair, resting his arms on the desktop. “You affect Eleanor?”

James swallowed hard. Fowler was five years his junior, and he did not enjoy being on this side of the “desk”—questioned by Ella's brother. “If I thought Lady Eleanor would accept my plight, I would make my feelings known immediately. As it is, I plan to be somewhat of a nuisance during the Season and pray Lady Eleanor chooses me by the end. So, Fowler, you should prepare your objections if you have any; otherwise, I will expect your permission when the time comes.”

His friend simply smiled at him. “I wish you success,Worthing.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” James started to stand and then thought better of it. “Bran…” he paused again, “find out what happened to Lady Eleanor while you were away. Something is driving your sister from her bed.”

Fowler's head snapped up in attention. “Do you know something else about Ella you are not sharing?”

“I cannot say for sure, but it seems odd to me that your sister's somnambulant sessions stopped with your father's passing and began again when you announced this upcoming Season. Remember her words when you told Lady Eleanor your plans.Your sister expects censure because of your father. There must be a connection.” James finally stood, not wishing to add his personal assumptions to the conversation.

Fowler let out a long sigh before following James to his feet. “You give me much to consider,Worthing.”

“I want Lady Eleanor free of her demons, and I will do what is necessary to protect her from her past, and, if required, from you.”

“Is that a threat, Worthing?”

James's pretense at nonchalance dissolved immediately. “It is a guarantee, Thornhill.”

Because Fowler had an appointment with Shepherd, he left “his” ladies on Bond Street, ordering ball gowns, morning and day dresses, intimates, hats, gloves, pelisses, ball slippers, half boots, and everything else needed for a successful Season. By silent assent the women had decided to begin the Season in colors of half-mourning, not wishing to seem callous over William Fowler's passing. In reality, they should wear black, but no debutante would appear in black for the Season. Again, under Bran's orders, they would tell everyone the late duke's long illness served as the mourning period.

Fittings for Presentation gowns took up much of the morning. Queen Charlotte expected young ladies to take a step back in time—unfortunately, they stepped back while wearing hooped skirts. “I think this might be the place to show respect for your late father by having the Presentation gown made in black,” Agatha conjectured.

“Black?” Eleanor and Velvet exclaimed in unison.

“Queen Charlotte is a stickler for decorum.Your father passed but three months ago, Eleanor. If he was a simple nobleman, we might consider ignoring the Queen's edicts without engendering censure; but as a duke is directly below a prince in peerage, I would not wish to upset Her Highness. Black should be the color.”

Ella looked at Velvet, trying to judge her cousin's thoughts. “We bow to your opinion, Aunt Agatha.”

However, she heard Velvet murmur, “So much for using my Presentation dress for my wedding.”

 

James waited patiently beside his carriage for the ladies' appearances. After sending his own carriage home, carting boxes and boxes of new items, Fowler called on Shepherd for the latest on the investigation, but Fowler's footmen still stored many more purchases in James's coach. He had brought his mount, intending on riding beside the coach where he might observe those whom they
passed along the way.Yesterday, at the Royal Academy, he had noted a swarthy-looking man closely following them. He did not tell Fowler what he marked as unusual, but today James searched the crowd milling along the busy street.

Beside him, Gabriel Crowden lounged leisurely against a support beam of the nearest shop. The marquis had arrived in London late the previous evening, but had called on Worthing early enough for a morning ride along Rotten Row and through Hyde Park. Amused with his captain's constantly shifting eyes, Crowden smirked when those same eyes met his.