How to Entice an Earl (16 page)

From the corner of her eye, Maddie saw Lady Emily look up. “I’ve already read it twice,” the widow admitted reluctantly. “It’s one of my favorites.”

Giving a mental huzzah, Maddie nodded. Trying to appear cool, and failing, she said eagerly, “I haven’t read his other books. Have you? I think I might like
The Wayward Heart,
but it seems as if it might not be as good. It is difficult to compete with the secret daughter of a duke.”

“I haven’t, either,” Lady Emily said, her countenance more animated now. “My sister says that it’s good, though. There was one particular scene that she said made her sleep with the candles burning.”

Abandoning the pretense that she was there to look at the books, Maddie turned to look at the other woman. “I wouldn’t have expected you to be such a devotee of novel reading. Where do you find the time? I mean, your social activities alone must take up a great deal of your time.”

“Simply because I attend a few parties I must necessarily be interested in nothing else?” Lady Emily asked, brow raised in gentle censure. “I do attend quite a few social functions, but that doesn’t mean that I never have an evening where I stay home and do whatever I please. Your own brother, who is often at the social functions I attend, took a night to rest last night. Why shouldn’t I?”

Maddie wondered if she knew that, far from taking an evening off, James had taken himself off altogether. “I didn’t mean any insult, Lady Emily,” she said sincerely, “I simply don’t know how you manage it. It’s all I can do to attend two or three social evenings a week and even then I find myself going a bit mad. I can’t imagine having your social schedule and finding time to read, as well. It seems like a great deal of work.”

“It can be,” Lady Emily said, looking mollified, “but I grow restless if I spend too much time on my own. No matter how enjoyable I find a novel, I simply must get out among people. I am a social creature, I’m afraid. Fielding used to say—” Abruptly, she broke off.

Visibly reining herself in, she turned to the bookshelf, and pulled the three volumes of the novel down.

When she turned to Maddie again, her expression was composed, and perhaps lacking the enthusiasm it had when she’d pulled herself up short. Still, she clearly felt some interest in Maddie because she continued. “Perhaps you’d like to join a few friends and me at my house tomorrow night? It’s not much, just a card party. We do play for high stakes so if you aren’t interested, feel free to decline. I believe your brother has already been invited. Just ask him to bring you along.”

Maddie frowned at the notion of James allowing her to tag along. It would have been an unlikely scenario even if he weren’t out of town. Even so, she felt her heart quicken at the invitation. She had little doubt that some of the same men who had been in attendance at Mrs. Bailey’s on the night of Tinker’s death would be there.

“I’d like that,” she said, trying not to sound too eager. It would not do to seem like a sycophant. “Though I don’t think James will be able to attend. He was called away suddenly.”

Lady Emily’s eyes narrowed fractionally at the news. “Really? I was unaware of that. It isn’t like Lord Linton to leave town without informing his friends.”

The way that the other woman emphasized the word made Maddie wonder just what sort of friends Lady Emily and her brother were. Still, she could not let her brother’s possible relationship with the widow affect her plans.

Remembering her promise to Christian to bring him along with her on any investigative excursions, she asked, “Might I bring another escort, perhaps?”

The other woman’s eyes sharpened. “Really?” she asked. “Are you not a bit young for escorts?”

Maddie felt herself blush. Ignoring the implication that her escort would do more than accompany her to the entertainment, she said, “He’s just an old friend of the family. And I shouldn’t like to ruin your numbers by arriving as a lone female.”

Lady Emily gave a brisk nod. “I don’t worry too much about such things as numbers, but it would make things easier, I suppose. Bring your old family friend along, then.”

When the other woman was gone, Maddie leaned her head against the bookshelf, heaving a sigh of relief. She’d been convinced that Lady Emily would see through her overture of friendship as soon as she opened her mouth, but she hadn’t. And thankfully, she had been quite open to extending the invitation to her card party. Though she’d hoped for such an outcome, Maddie hadn’t been sure she’d find success so quickly.

Remembering that she was supposed to attend a musicale at Juliet and Deveril’s the next evening, she decided that a fabricated illness would be the most expedient means of explaining her absence to her mother. It would be difficult, but if she gave her maid the evening off, and slipped out after her parents left, she could manage it.

What would Christian say? she wondered. He was as concerned for her reputation as her own mother seemed to be, she thought with frustration, but she would simply have to explain to him why it was imperative that they attend this party. Reputation or no reputation, she had to figure out who killed Mr. Tinker if Linton were ever to be free of the veil of suspicion.

And he
had
agreed to assist her in her investigations. If he balked then she’d simply have to remind him that he’d given her his word.

Hurrying out to her waiting carriage, Maddie made her way home and began planning her attire for the next evening.

*   *   *

The next evening found Christian waiting impatiently in an unmarked, closed carriage for Maddie to approach. For discretion’s sake, he’d asked the coachman to wait in the mews behind Essex House, so that Maddie would not be seen from the square.

She’d sent round a note yesterday afternoon informing him that they’d be attending a card party at Lady Emily’s house. And though he’d wanted to send back a note inquiring whether she was possessed of all her faculties, he had instead sent back a hastily scrawled assent. Maddie was strong-willed enough to attend with or without him, and knowing just who Lady Emily counted among her close personal friends, he would prefer to take her there himself. He knew that he was willing to do the right thing by her should he compromise her reputation. He couldn’t say that same for the Duke of Endover, Lord Phillip Bynes or Lord Tretham. Not to mention Colonel Sebastian Grant, whom he knew from his days in the army and disliked. Strenuously.

Thus it was that he welcomed Lady Madeline, wearing yet another gown that set his teeth on edge—this time in a deep gold color that brought out the highlights in her hair and offered up her bosom like the main course at a banquet—into the dark carriage.

“You’re looking…” He searched for the right word to describe the gown. “Fetching” sounded too wholesome. “Ravishing” was too … something else. Delectable? True, but entirely inappropriate. “… well,” he finished lamely.

As if she had heard his mental discussion with himself, Maddie gave a laugh. “I must admit that it does make me feel quite scandalous,” she said. “It’s as if the gown affects my whole personality. Which is silly, I suppose, since I am still the same old Maddie. But it does give one a certain—”

“Yes, rather,” he broke in before she could finish the thought. He was having a hard enough time keeping his hands to himself. Hearing her describe how the silk felt against her skin would send him over the edge.

Changing the subject to a safer topic, he said, “What do you know about this party?”

“Very little,” she admitted, not commenting on the shift in topic. “Lady Emily didn’t tell me who would be in attendance. Just that it would be a group of friends. I don’t think it would be at all surprising should we find her usual crowd there.”

“The other entertainments offered tonight,” he said, watching the way the moonlight illuminated her face, “don’t seem to be of the sort that would draw attention from her friends. Aside from Juliet and Deveril’s musicale, there’s the theater.”

“Yes,” Maddie agreed. “Of course, those are the respectable entertainments you mention. Lord knows what sort of other vices are available throughout London.”

Mind on the mission, Christian reminded himself, though all sorts of vices he’d like to engage in with Maddie raced through his mind. “Lord knows,” he echoed, giving himself a mental shake.

“Do your cousins know about this plan of yours?” he asked, suddenly wondering if Cecily and Juliet had informed their husbands and whether he should expect a request for pistols at dawn sometime in the near future.

He wasn’t sure how he knew it, given the dimness of the carriage as it rolled through the streets of London, but he sensed she was blushing. “They know,” Maddie told him after a moment. “At least, Juliet and Cecily both know that I plan to prove that Linton was not involved in Tinker’s stabbing. They do not know that you have agreed to help me.”

Christian wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or disappointed.

“Why not?” he asked.

“I do not want to worry them,” she said simply. “Plus I know that they would want to help, and I don’t want them to risk their own reputations because of something my brother did. He is my brother, and my responsibility.”

He didn’t point out the unconventional nature of her declaration. In polite society it would be the other way around, with her brother claiming Maddie as his responsibility. It did her credit that she felt so protective of him, but he found himself once again feeling no small amount of anger on her behalf. She should not be burdened with this matter. It should be handled by her father, or both her parents.

But Maddie had always been unconventional, and a bit of a mother hen for those she loved. It was one of the qualities that made her so … he deliberately made a mental diversion around the word “lovable” and chose “appealing” instead.

“So,” he said aloud, “I will not find myself flayed alive by either of them should something untoward happen.” He wished he could say the same of their spouses, but thinking back to the circumstances of their own marriages, Christian felt somewhat safe from persecution on that score as well.

“Nothing is going to happen,” she chided. “We are simply looking into the matter of Mr. Tinker’s murder.”

“Yes,” he agreed ironically, “nothing ever happens in the pursuit of murderers. ’Tis the safest pastime imaginable.”

“Do not be glib, my lord,” she chided. “I am not a simpleton. I realize there are certain dangers. Besides, I thought that was the reason I brought you along. For protection.”

“Yes, of course that’s why you brought me along,” he muttered. “For protection.”

They fell into an uncomfortable silence. Despite his promise to her that he would come along on this visit tonight, he couldn’t help but feel as if he were leading a lamb into the lion’s den. He did not know how much Maddie knew about the sorts of things Lady Emily and her friends—Lord Linton included—got up to, but he had a feeling she’d be leaving tonight’s entertainment with a bit less innocence than when she entered. Which made him angry on some level.

Thinking to hint that perhaps she didn’t need to protect her brother all on her own, he said, “I spoke with your father yesterday.”

He watched her mouth fall open in surprise and, too late, realized the implication of what he’d just said.

“You did?” she asked in a high-pitched voice. “Wh … why would you do that?”

“He spoke with me, rather,” Christian said hastily, feeling like a thousand fools. “He approached me in the park to ask what might be done to help your brother.”

“Oh.” The relief she infused into that one word was hardly flattering, but Christian could not blame her. It was hardly every young lady’s dream to be proposed to in an unmarked carriage on the way to a scandalous card party. Or, he rather thought it wasn’t Maddie’s. Even so, he felt a pang of disappointment at her response.

Trying to move the conversation forward, he said, “I think you might have a bit more faith in his determination to protect your brother’s reputation. In fact, I think if you were to abandon your plan, you might trust in your father to see to it that your brother is cleared in the matter.”

But that was obviously the wrong thing to say. “I’m afraid you don’t know my father as well as I do, my lord,” she said. He did not like being “my lorded” by her. “He disapproves of Linton’s every action. I know he might wish to see to it that my brother escapes the ultimate punishment for his association with Mr. Tinker, but he believes that Linton needs a dose of reality. What better way to give it to him than to allow him to be frightened into toeing the straight-and-narrow path?”

Christian didn’t bother arguing. He’d only spoken to Lord Essex about the matter once. Doubtless Maddie knew her parents better than he did. Even so, he believed her father was not so willing to let her brother linger under the cloud of suspicion as she thought.

“He does control the purse strings,” Christian said. “That might prove to be incentive enough for your brother to curb his habits.”

“It hasn’t thus far,” she said with a weariness that made him wish to gather her close and comfort her. She shouldn’t burden herself with this. “Linton had a small inheritance from our grandmother and he went through it rather quickly. He needs his allowance to make ends meet. I am actually quite surprised he is not deeper in debt than he is already considering his fondness for gambling,” she admitted, “but I suppose he wins more than he loses.”

Their conversation was aborted when the carriage came to an abrupt stop.

A sharp rap on the door, doubtless the footman’s attempt at discretion, alerted them that they’d reached their destination.

“Into the breach,” he said to Maddie, who suddenly looked very young and very vulnerable in the half-light of the carriage. Resisting the urge to kiss her on the forehead, Christian instead offered her his hand, and as the door opened and the footman lowered the step, he handed her out.

Ten

Maddie was grateful for the strength of Christian’s arm as he led her into Lady Emily’s drawing room. She counted seven couples seated around the room, some at card tables, and others lounging on chairs and sofas and divans.