Wicked Nights With a Proper Lady (35 page)

The Mayfair Chronicles, August 9, 1846

License obtained and in his breast pocket, Leo walked into his club the next morning. He still didn’t have word from Tristan, but would follow up with his friend just as soon as he finished his task here. Everyone’s head turned toward him and a hush fell over them as he removed his gloves.

Slapping the leather against his hand, he walked to the mahogany pedestal that held the betting book open for all to see the latest on dit bid.

Sure enough, there were more than a handful of speculating names that he recognized. Their bets were on whether he’d seek out another spinster, who she would be, if he would take a virgin wallflower in her fourth and fifth seasons. The list went on in not very favorable directions.

Naturally, his friends had stayed out of the bidding. A shame they hadn’t tried their luck in a more positive direction.

Though it was considered bad form to engage in a wager when you were the one mentioned, Leo called over the steward with a wave of his hand. “Hand me a pen, Brett.”

“My lord,” the man said in a word of warning.

“Hand me a damn pen.” His voice was quiet but as sharp as the tip of a rapier.

No further protest was made as the man went to retrieve the requested writing instrument. Leo’s eyes focused on each and every name written in the ledger. Someone in the club started to protest but was quickly shushed. They would all clamor to know what he would write and whom he would side with so the debts could be settled the moment he left.

When the pen was set up in the inkstand on the edge of the pedestal, Leo nodded his thanks and turned the page to read the rest of the names. There were a number of bets against him not only from club members but other men and a few women who obviously didn’t want to be excluded from the chance to win the hefty sum entered on each line. That they cared to spend this much thought on his private affairs was simply pathetic. On reading the last name, he dabbed the nib on the blotter and wrote his name on the next available line. Estimating his wager based on the tally, he entered his total.

“Wax, Brett,” was his next demand.

Taking up a small handful of sand, he tossed it over the wet ink and waited a minute before blowing it off. And though there were some fifty-odd witnesses to his signing of the wager book, he took the heated wax from Brett, poured a small amount on the ledger, removed his signet ring from his pinky finger, and pressed the griffin fashioned around an old-fashioned letter
B
into the wax. He left the club without talking to anyone on his way out. He knew they’d rush over to the betting book the moment he was out of sight.

And really, none of them mattered.

It was time to find Genny.

He knocked on Tristan’s townhouse door. Ronnie pulled the heavy door inward. Rowan was next to the footman who stood to the side expressionless. It didn’t surprise Leo that Tristan let his children rule the house and servants much like they ruled his life.

“Papa said you’d come today.” Ronnie’s smile was a welcome sight even in his current gloomy mood.

Leo went down on his haunches and tapped Ronnie on the nose affectionately. “Did he, then?” He looked to Rowan who nodded emphatically. “Where do you suppose I’ll find your father this morning?”

“He’s still in bed,” Rowan said.

Leo pulled out his watch from his vest and flicked it open. “Since when does your father sleep past half ten in the morning?”

Ronnie crossed her arms over her chest with a pout. “I knocked on his door and he told me he’d see me later.”

“Do you think I might come in? I have business with your father.”

“You should eat lunch with us. He might come down for that.” Ronnie suggested, taking his hand to invite him in.

“I can’t refuse your kind offer, my lady.”

He stood, patted her head, and put out his hand for Rowan to take.

“Alberts, would you mind notifying his lordship that I am here? He is expecting me.”

Alberts, a young footman of average looks, bowed to him. “Yes, my lord.”

He hurried to do as Leo bid while the children led him farther into the house. The breakfast room was where they took their casual meals. There was an array of dishes set out in buffet style for the children. A kitchen maid, wearing a French uniform, stood by to help the children with their dishes. He nodded to her. What was going on in the Castleigh house this morning? Everything seemed … off.

“Where is your aunt?”

Rowan bounced in his chair, chewing a strawberry openmouthed. “Papa sent her out on errands.”

Why would Tristan have his sister, albeit half sister, run errands for him? Leo focused on the maid again. “Has his lordship been down from his room today?”

“No, my lord.”

“Has food been sent up?” He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest.

Her eyes went wide, so he was on the right train of thought. “Yes, my lord.”

He leaned in close and whispered, “One or two dishes?”

“Two,” she mouthed so the children wouldn’t hear their conversation.

“An unusual occurrence,” he mused aloud.

The maid put her head down. He hadn’t meant for her to feel bad for betraying her employer’s trust but he had all the right questions. Though he had no answer as to why Tristan would have a woman here when he had a townhouse three streets over for his liaisons.

“What’s unusual?” Ronnie asked.

“Oh, these eggs here have double yolks,” Leo quickly said.

“Cook has a special hen that lays those. She says it’s double the luck and she lays more eggs than the others.”

“Very odd.” Leo turned his attention back to the children at the table to make sure they were settled in to their lunch and grabbed a sausage and ate it off a fork just as the butler walked in.

The man bowed again. “If you’ll follow me, my lord, I’ll take you to his study.”

“Excellent.” He popped the last of the sausage in his mouth and winked at the children. “Thank you for the lunch offer. We must do this again soon.”

Once he exited the room and followed the butler down the hallway, he asked, “Does he plan to be down soon, or should I send a white flag upstairs?”

“He is already waiting for you.”

“Perfect.” Leo pushed the study door open. The walls all around were paneled and stained in a mahogany four feet up; above the wainscoting was a dark green paper. The heavy desk at the center made the room feel smaller than it really was, but the big leather chairs made this room the most confortable to convene in.

Leo sat and put his feet up on the desk. “I hear you have a guest.”

Elbows on the table, Tristan’s hands were steepled in front of him. “Or so you’ve surmised.”

“You aren’t really going to deny it, are you?”

“I have nothing to deny.” Tristan’s tone was unusually cool. “Do you want word on your Miss Camden?”

“I do. And while I enjoy your company, I have important matters to look after today.”

“My news is not going to make your day any easier.”

“Why is that?”

Tristan hesitated. “Your lady friend was forced to flee from the house party. No one knows where she’s gone.”

Leo put his feet down on the floor and stood, placing his hands flat on the desk in front of him as he leaned closer to Tristan. “Is that what Lady Carleton said?”

“Not precisely.”

“Then how do you know anything at all?” he demanded.

“I expect Lady Carleton’s response within the hour but gossip has made its way back to me, and it was clear that she had to leave quickly. Miss Camden left the party after Lord Ponsley publicly dismissed her and sent her off with her tail between her legs.”

Leo shoved his chair back. “Shit.”

“Precisely. I have an account that she took a carriage back to the city. But where she’s gone, I can’t say for sure.”

“And whom did you hear this from?”

“No one of concern.”

Leo smacked his hands on the desk for emphasis. “I will drag every last bit of knowledge out of the person you got this information from. Tell me who it is.”

Tristan stood, planted his palms on the desk, and shoved his face closer. “Word will arrive momentarily.”

“Who is the woman?” Leo pressed. That had to be where Tristan had gotten his information.

Tristan’s hands tightened. “There is no woman.”

“Tristan, if there is one thing I can tell, it’s when you lie to me.” He strove for calm and failed. The only thing that mattered was finding Genny. “Who is the woman in your room?”

“She is of no consequence.”

“Like hell she isn’t!”

“If you don’t leave this alone, I will personally throw you out of my house.” Tristan tapped his joined fingers hard against Leo’s forehead. “Think logically. Where would she have gone?”

Leo stood and rubbed his hand over his head, mussing his hair. “I don’t know.”

“Does she have family here?”

“No. She doesn’t.” He sat heavily in the chair. “I don’t know if she does or not. I never thought to ask. I’m assuming she doesn’t. She would have gone to a friend’s.”

“Do you know any of her friends?” Tristan asked.

“Just one, and she is in Scotland.”

“Would her cousin have given her money to go somewhere?”

“That’s assuming her cousin saw her before our liaison was made newsworthy.” How in hell was he supposed to find her? “Maybe I should start with Ponsley.”

“You have the sugar duties act coming up. Do you think it wise? He’ll use this to sway the rest of the house against you.”

“I could care less. I need to find Genny. If she has nowhere to go, I don’t want to think what could happen to her.”

Leo leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He was wasting time here. He needed to think about where she’d go. Why couldn’t he come up with one possible place? Waiting here wasn’t helping Genny any. He felt helpless, like a damned child unable to do anything for himself right now.

“What if Lady Carleton doesn’t know where Genny is?”

“Must you be all doom and gloom, my friend?”

“It’s the only thing that has been on my mind for the last twenty-four hours. How can I not think the worst when I know she has no family to turn to?”

Tristan tapped his desk. “There was one other rumor that I dismissed as balderdash.”

Leo came to attention in his chair.

“Someone mentioned that the carriage she borrowed stopped in front of Jez’s for some time.”

He was headed out the door at a run before his friend could finish his theory on the carriage.

Chapter 25

A little bird informed me today that a certain marquess has received a veiled midnight visitor under the safety of a moonless night. I will not speculate just yet as to who the mysterious woman is because there is something far more interesting to the whole scenario, and that is … that the lady stayed the night in his private residence.

The Mayfair Chronicles, August 14, 1846

“Jezebel?” Leo shouted as he pounded his first against her door.

It swung open mid-pound. Jez stood on the threshold, expression curious.

“You’ve scared the butler with the way you’ve gone on, Leo.” Jez stood aside so he could enter.

“I’m sorry.” Leo had to lean over at the waist and put his hands on his knees as he breathed in heavily. “I ran here from Tristan’s.”

Jez pressed her palm to the back of his shoulder and rubbed back and forth. “Why would you do that?”

“Is she here?”

Jez leaned over, bringing her face in line with his vision. “She is.”

“Thank God.” He stood, grasped her by the arms, and planted a loud kiss against her cheek. “Where can I find her?”

Jez looked at him queerly. “She’s in the drawing room.”

“Genny,” he shouted, as he jogged down the hall. He burst through the drawing room doors and nearly fell to his knees on seeing Genny safe and sound.

She stood in the middle of the room, hands folded in front of her. She was wearing a borrowed dress—Jez’s most likely; he knew because it was scarlet satin and the prettiest dress he’d ever seen Genny in.

“Leo.”

“Oh, God, Genny. I was so worried.” Leo couldn’t believe he had finally found her and rushed forward, stopping just in front of her when he realized she might not be so welcoming.

Jezebel clicked the door shut, leaving them alone.

“Why are you here, Leo?”

“I’ve been a madman worrying about you since I found out you had to leave the Carletons’.”

“Don’t think because I’ve been properly ruined that you can offer to marry me and save what remains of my reputation.”

He wanted to laugh at her tenacity. “Genny, if we married, it would be because we both love each other and want to spend the rest of our lives together.”

When she lowered her head, he shortened the distance between them and tipped her chin up with his fingers. “Don’t look so gloomy.”

“My life is ruined.” She shook her head. “It happened so fast that I was at a loss for what to do.”

He couldn’t help it; he had to touch more of her, comfort her, do whatever possible to make her feel better. He pulled her into his arms and just held her close. She rested her face over his heart. Her arms were limp at her sides.

“Let me fix this,” he said.

“And what of everything that happened between us? How can I trust you?” She grabbed the material at his waist and scrunched it tight in her fists.

“It may take time before you believe this sentiment again, but you can always trust me.”

She looked up at him with sad eyes. “Can I?”

He nodded his reassurance and caressed the back of his hand over her cheek and kissed her forehead.

“I don’t even understand how we were discovered,” she said. “We were so careful.”

He gathered her close enough to hug her tight again. “It’s my fault. I should have been more vigilant.”

“We were both participants in our affair. It was foolish on both our parts.”

“The biggest gossip was at that party, and I didn’t take extra precaution knowing that. The fault rests solely on my shoulders.” He rubbed Genny’s back. “Lady Hargrove’s name will not fare any better than ours. She’s a ruined woman, too.”