A Season for Sin (12 page)

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Authors: Vicky Dreiling

Tags: #Fiction / Romance - Regency

BOOK: A Season for Sin
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She would not think about the way he’d let his gaze travel over her body last evening at the ball. Most certainly, she would not dwell on the way her skin had heated while he’d perused her. Above all, she would banish the illicit fantasies that had danced in her head while she’d tossed and turned in bed last night.

Even if she wanted to dally with the notorious earl, she would not dare, especially after receiving the scathing letter earlier from her stepson’s guardian. Montclief was displeased that she had taken his seventeen-year-old nephew to London. She’d found his terse letter hypocritical and insulting.

Yesterday, she would not have worried a jot about Justin’s uncle. For years, he’d refused to do his duty by his nephew, claiming he was too busy with his own large brood. His letter, however, had left her with no doubt that Montclief would take Justin away if he heard even a hint of a problem.

Laura inhaled and exhaled slowly to steady her nerves. She would write a short letter to Montclief to reassure him that all was well in London. It would be an outrageous lie, for Justin had turned quite rebellious recently. She must impress upon Justin the necessity of steering clear of trouble. If he did not cooperate, she would have no choice but to remove him from London.

She walked over to the window. The wavy glass distorted the view somewhat, but that shiny black carriage obviously belonged to the Earl of Bellingham. Any moment now, he would emerge from her town house. All she wanted was to see the back of him retreating.

How had he discovered her name and address? The thought troubled her. She had no idea why he’d sent up a flask, of all things, but of course, she’d refused his strange gift. They had not been formally introduced, and she most certainly did not wish to make that rakehell’s acquaintance.

Another carriage drew up along the street. Oh dear, it must be her friend Lady Atherton coming to call. She would likely encounter the earl as she walked to the door. The situation was terribly awkward, but Laura knew she’d done the correct thing by refusing Bellingham.

Footsteps sounded outside the door and thudded on the carpet. Certain it was her butler, Laura kept her gaze on the street below, expecting to see Lord Bellingham striding toward his vehicle any moment. “Reed, I hope you sent the earl on his way.”

“He tried, but I’m not easily dissuaded.”

The deep male voice startled her. Laura turned around with a gasp to find the earl standing in her drawing room. She pressed her hand to her fast-beating heart. For some reason he seemed taller than last night. One thing was clear; the man was far too bold. “My lord, are you in the habit of dispensing with the proprieties?”

His mouth curved sideways in a roguish grin. “As a matter of fact, I am.”

Her butler arrived, huffing and puffing. “My lady,” he said.

She glanced at Reed. “I will take care of the matter.”

Her butler hesitated, and then he quit the drawing room.

Laura returned her attention to the earl. For a moment, she found herself captivated by his handsome face and artfully disheveled dark hair. In the daylight, his thick black lashes added to the allure of his brilliant blue eyes. Then she recollected her common sense and gave him a withering look. “I made it clear that I am not at home to callers, and yet, you persisted, even though we have not been formally introduced.”

“Lady Chesfield, I am honored to make your acquaintance.” He bowed. “Bellingham, at your service.”

Her temper flared. “How did you learn my name and address?”

“I asked Lady Atherton last evening,” he said.

The news physically jolted her. Lady Atherton was her friend. “I find it difficult to believe that Lady Atherton would give out that information.”

His brows drew together. “She did not wish to tell me, but I insisted.”

“Why?” she said. “We are strangers. You can have no business with me.”

He held up the silver flask. “Actually, my business is with your stepson.”

She tensed, and within moments, a chill ran down her spine. Oh, God, had Justin stolen it? She would not voice the words, because she couldn’t make herself do it. “How do you know him?”

Lord Bellingham shrugged. “I don’t know him, but I have encountered him and his friends loitering on the streets of London more than once. I don’t think they understand the potential dangers of footpads.”

“Thank you, my lord. I will discuss the matter with Justin.”

“Are you aware that he and his friends were drinking in the garden last night?”

She had briefly stumbled upon the earl while looking for her son there. “I did not hear or see them.”

“After you left, they returned to the house,” Bellingham continued. “I followed and saw him push this flask beneath the stairs.”

“My lord, thank you for your concern. Now, if you will give me the flask, I will speak to Justin.”

He arched his brows. “It’s brandy, very fine brandy, in case you are wondering.”

Laura glanced at the sideboard. As soon as she got rid of His Haughtiness, she would check the brandy decanter.

He regarded her with an intense expression. “I don’t make a habit of intervening in other’s affairs, but I heard him lie to you about his whereabouts at the ball. It is clear to me that he’s pulling the wool over your eyes.”

How dare he insinuate that she was too naïve to parent her own stepson? While she was tempted to defend herself, she realized that would serve no other purpose than to delay his departure. “I appreciate your concern and will speak to him.”

He took a step closer. “How well is that working?”

“I owe you no explanations,” she said. “Now please leave.”

He looked away for a moment, and then he returned his attention to her. “Call him to the drawing room. When he realizes that I and others have marked his wayward behavior, he will think twice before lying to you again.”

She had no intention of following his orders, and truthfully, Justin wasn’t at home, none of which she would tell the arrogant earl. Laura bobbed a curtsey. “Good day, Lord Bellingham,” she said in an obvious dismissal.

He set the flask on a side table. “I beg your pardon for interfering. Despite what you may think, it was meant kindly.”

She recollected Lady Atherton’s advice about him last night.
What he wants, he gets. Be sure it’s not you.
No, he’d definitely not intervened out of kindness.

Footsteps and voices sounded outside the drawing room. “Sir, allow me to inform her ladyship that you have come to call,” Reed said.

“I do not require an announcement and will see her now.”

Laura gasped as she recognized the voice. She snatched the flask and hid it behind the sofa cushion.

“What the devil?” Bellingham said.

She entreated him with her eyes. “It is Montclief, Justin’s guardian. Please, say nothing of Justin to him,” she said in a low tone.

“Why?”

“Please,” she said, aware that her voice shook. “I will do anything you ask, but I beg you not to betray me.”

He arched his brows. “Be careful what you promise.”

She would deal with Bellingham later. For now, she must gather her scattered wits and pretend to be perfectly at ease. Dear God, what would Montclief think when he saw her with a scoundrel in her drawing room? Somehow, she must concoct a story, but her frazzled mind refused to work properly.

Montclief entered with a thunderous expression, and then he stopped short upon seeing Bellingham.

Laura curtsied and noted her brother-in-law’s hair had thinned considerably since she’d last seen him at her husband’s funeral four years ago. She took a deep breath and said, “Montclief, what a delightful surprise. I just received your letter today, but had no idea you meant to visit. Obviously, you wish to see for yourself that all is well in London.” Heavens, she’d babbled like a fool.

Montclief narrowed his eyes. “Laura, you are obviously discomposed.” He turned toward Bellingham. “Will you not introduce me to your gentleman caller?”

Doubtless, Montclief had assumed the worst. He probably thought she’d brought Justin here on a pretext so that she could dally with her nonexistent lover. “Lord Bellingham, may I introduce Mr. Montclief? He is my stepson’s uncle and guardian.”

Montclief bowed. “My lord, of course I know your name from the papers.”

Drat. Montclief had probably seen the thinly veiled mentions of the Earl of B——ham in the scandal sheets. Oh, this was a disaster in the making.

“That criminal conversation case before Parliament must have been quite the sensation,” Montclief said.

“It was a dead bore,” Bellingham said

Laura frowned. “Criminal conversation?”

“Pardon me. It is an indelicate subject for a lady,” Montclief said.

A devilish expression lit Bellingham’s eyes. “It is a euphemism for
adultery
.”

She rolled her eyes. “How ridiculous. Why not call a spade a spade?”

“My sentiments, exactly,” Bellingham said.

No doubt, he’d participated in
criminal conversation
on any number of occasions. “Shall we be seated? I will ring for a tea tray. You must be thirsty after your journey, Montclief.”

“I wish to see my nephew,” he said in a stern tone. “Please send for him.”

“He is out,” she said. From the corners of her eyes, she saw Bellingham lift his brows in a skeptical manner, but she must not lose her focus. “His friend George took him in his curricle to Gunther’s for ices.” The explanation sounded innocent enough to her. In truth, Justin had slept past noon, and then George had arrived. When Laura asked where they were going, Justin had regarded her with a mulish expression and walked out the door.

“When do you expect him to return?” Montclief said, narrowing his eyes.

“I cannot say for certain. They will probably take a turn around Rotten Row at the fashionable hour of five o’clock,” she said. “I hope you will dine with us.” She hoped nothing of the kind, but she must be polite, even to her loathsome brother-in-law.

Montclief’s severe expression did not bode well. “Laura, we must speak about Justin. I’ve had a letter from a friend in London that alarmed me. My friend informed me that my nephew is running wild on the streets.” He looked at Bellingham. “I beg your pardon. Obviously, this is a family matter. I rely on your discretion.”

Bellingham nodded.

“Laura,” Montclief continued, “you should have contacted me about this matter. I demand an explanation.”

She must not let her composure slip. “All is well now.”

Bellingham gave her a brief, incredulous look.

“Laura,” Montclief said, “All is not well. You brought my nephew to London without asking my permission and have concealed my nephew’s inappropriate behavior. I cannot rely on your poor judgment.”

She itched to give him the set down he deserved, but she did not dare incur his wrath. “He has come home late on two occasions, but there is no need for alarm.”

“You are only a woman and incapable of managing a high-spirited boy,” Montclief said. “He needs the daily influence of a man.”

Desperation gripped her like talons. She entreated Bellingham with her eyes once more. “You need not worry, Montclief,” she said. “Lord Bellingham has taken an interest in our Justin and is helping to turn the tide.” She held her breath, fearing Bellingham would deny her claims.

Bellingham kept his expression impassive. “Young men need to understand that it is wrong to take advantage of one’s mother.”

He’d adeptly avoided lying. She could kiss his big boots for not betraying her.

“I appreciate your assistance, Bellingham,” Montclief said. “However, I have already made my decision. My nephew needs more than passing male influence.” He turned to Laura. “Please see that his trunks are packed. I will take him home with me tomorrow. You may reside in the house in Hampshire until he reaches his majority.”

She couldn’t breathe. This could not be happening. She would not let Montclief take her son away. “No,” she said. “No, please do not take him.”

“Laura, this is not up for negotiation,” Montclief said.

Panic rose up in her chest. She felt short of breath. The fear of losing Justin nearly overwhelmed her, but she must persuade Montclief to change his mind. “You have such a large brood already and are overly tasked. I have looked after Justin all these years.”
I love him too much to let you take him away.

“Laura, I know you care about the boy, but you are only a woman and unable to manage a hot-blooded young buck.”

She pressed her nails into her palms to keep from blurting out what she really thought of Montclief’s negligence these past four years. As much as she despised him, she could not afford to antagonize her brother-in-law. “He’s already lost his father. I am his mother, and if you take him away, he will feel that I have abandoned him.”

“You are his stepmother,” Montclief corrected.

His words stung, for he’d implied that she wasn’t a real mother, but she would not allow his slight to deter her. No matter what anyone thought, Justin was her son. She would do whatever it took to keep her son with her, including placating Montclief. “I believe Justin deserves another chance. I will emphasize that he must behave—”

“You’ve already proven you are incapable of it,” Montclief said. “I’ve made my decision, and that is the end of the discussion.”

After all this time, Montclief meant to exercise his rights as a guardian. The disbelief started to wear off, and then her hands trembled. She clutched them tightly, because she didn’t want Montclief to see her anguish. “He hasn’t even seen you for four years. It will be hard on him.”

Montclief puffed up. “The material point is that you cannot give my nephew the discipline and guidance that he needs.”

She would do anything, anything, to keep Montclief from taking Justin away. But what could she do to convince her brother-in-law? Oh, God, she must think of some way to change his mind. Laura thought back over the entire conversation, and one thing he’d said stood out.
My nephew needs more than passing male influence.

The answer popped into her head. She met Bellingham’s gaze again and prayed he would go along with her scheme. At this point, she had nothing to lose—except her son. And she refused to give him up without a fight.

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