Lady Libertine (3 page)

She had to attend endless parties with her sister and mother and after seven long Seasons on the shelf she was practically invisible. Retreating to her room after dinner one evening with quill and ink and paper,
On Dit
had been born. The result had been startling, to say the least.

Thomas chuckled. ‘Not at all. I tell them that I do not know Lady Libertine’s identity. That it is all done anonymously. And if it all gets too difficult, I just slip out the back door!’

Lucy collected her maid Jenny from the outer office, where she had been waiting, and they made their way down the narrow wooden stairs that led to the street. Somewhere below a door slammed and they heard booted feet ascending. A tall man appeared and, for a moment, Lucy’s heart did a nervous flip in her chest. The good-looking man coming up the stairs was immediately recognizable. Speak of the devil! The Earl of Hamersley stomped upwards and by the look on his face, he was extremely disgruntled. He stood aside to allow her to descend, bending his head in acknowledgement, but those legendary green eyes of his barely looked at her as she passed, too intent on his business to focus on anything else.

She caught a whiff of him as he passed; smoky, musky, and with a hint of wine on his breath. Totally male and, somehow, totally disturbing. She hurried down the stairs, surprised that their brief closeness could bring such an unfamiliar flush.

Nothing more than nerves, she assured herself and wondered how many other ladies in London had thought exactly the same thing!

Lucy did not have to think too hard to know what business he had with the
London Times
; her brief summation of his meeting with Lady Caroline Astor in the conservatory had been quite masterly. Even
she
thought so. She hurried out the door, keen to remove herself and reluctant to be seen there, although there was really no reason for anybody to remark upon her presence. There were advantages to having the coloring and persona of a mouse; most people did not take the slightest bit of notice of her.

She pitied poor Thomas, however.
She
would not fancy facing down an angry earl intent on having his way. The likes of his lordship were all too common in Lucy’s world; creatures intent on demanding things, sure that they would get them because, in one way or another, they ruled the world.

She thought of the money in her reticule and smiled to herself, a secret smile of satisfaction.

Before another four months had passed, she would not have to worry about creatures like the Earl of Hamersley – or her mother – ever again. She would be free to pursue whatever she wished, in whatever way she wished.

Within reason, as whatever she wished would be dependant on funds.

Still, it was a very satisfying thought.

Chapter Two

Generally, occasions orchestrated by Julia Challender had a reputation for being unusual, but that just made them all the more popular. The Hamersleys were eccentric, but their charm usually saw them through almost anything.

The sister of an earl and feted as the Season’s star debutante three years before, Julia had, against all reason, selected Mr. Edward Challender to marry. At the time, it had caused quite a stir. While Challender was thought to be a sound man, with a decent career ahead of him in politics, he was hardly scintillating. Julia, on the other hand, was an extraordinary beauty with thirty thousand a year and so could expect to marry more or less whomever she liked.

She had liked Edward and had gone after him with the single-minded enthusiasm of a lady who was determined to have her own way. Others could say what they would, but Julia did not care any more for the good opinion of Society than her sibling and married the thoroughly bemused – and extraordinarily grateful – Edward, in the event of the Season.

While her events were lavish, Julia tended to invite anybody who caught her eye, which was why Lucy Landon was going. They had shared a table three days before at an alfresco party at the Gardens and Julia had decided – based on nothing more than a casual conversation in passing, or so it seemed to Lucy – that she liked little Miss Landon. An invitation to the ball had arrived the next day; most peculiarly, it was addressed only to Lucy and only Lucy was included.

Lady Landon had not liked that at all. Fortunately she had been asked to act as hostess for Lord Billingsworth that evening at a small soiree and so did not object too much. Lucy knew it would be a different matter if she had
not
been busy. An earl’s sister was an earl’s sister, after all, and such rarified circles were the ones Lady Landon intended her youngest child to move in. Lucy would not have been at all surprised if her mother thought Hamersley himself would be a suitable husband for Phoebe. She might have forbidden her eldest daughter to attend if she had not thought that her eldest daughter’s acquaintance with Mrs. Julia Challender might not come in handy.

Lucy had been avoiding her mother as much as possible since she had read the paper the morning before. Actually, she avoided her mother as much as possible on a daily basis, but she had been a little more absent than usual, finding things that would take her out of the house. Her surmise on that Tuesday morning had proved correct; there had been a
lot
of callers throughout the day and Lady Landon’s mood had been bordering on the volcanic as she tried for nonchalance and a ladylike demeanor. She had insisted to one and all that the entire thing was just so much fustian, but nobody had believed her, of course.

Everybody knew of the lady’s designs on being the future Lady Billingsworth.

Lucy dressed with a light heart; it felt almost daring to be going out alone, but it was a delicious feeling, just the same. She did not usually get to attend many things by herself. Tonight she was wearing a new gown, one that she had managed to slip by her mother when she had been buying new items for Phoebe. Madam Francine had been more than happy to deal with the eldest Miss Landon and between them they had settled on brocaded silk in a deep blue with bows of worked Italian lace around the hem and sleeves. Pastels were not considered necessary for a spinster of four and twenty and Lucy was relieved that she had reached a stage in her life that meant she could abandon them.

She even had the coach tonight for Lord Billingsworth had sent his own for her mother and sister.

Perfect!

The Challender house on Portman Close was large and spacious and dazzlingly lit. Lucy climbed the steps with a happy sense of anticipation. She did not care if nobody asked her to dance (although someone invariably did out of sheer politeness – it was really rather annoying) or that she was destined sit next to some dreary creature who would likely blather on about their pugs or their vast array of ailments. She did not even care that she had been doing this for seven long years. This was the
last
year she would be doing it and the knowledge sometimes made her quite dizzy with delight. Especially now she was actually earning an income. The money she received from penning the Lady Libertine column was a godsend for there had been no annuity bestowed with the cottage and she very much doubted her mother would make one over to her. The best that could be hoped for was that Lucy would be allowed to take the second best sheets and tablecloths for surely, as the new Lady Billingsworth, her mother would have linen to spare.

So it was that Lucy walked lightly through the front door, anticipating a pleasant night of doing what she did best; watching people. Blending into the background was one of the reasons she was so successful in her discovery of the indiscreet, most of which usually became a great deal
more
indiscreet after the magic hour of ten. She supposed it was the food and wine that had generally been consumed by that stage. It had the effect of undermining the usual inhibitions that kept Polite Society polite. Why, some of the things that Lucy had witnessed had been downright
im
polite, to the point of scandalous.

She might have been shocked, if it weren’t for the fact that, happily, very little shocked her and a great many things amused her.

Julia Challender greeted her arrival with pleasure, a brilliant smile lighting up her lovely face. She was younger than the duke, but with the same midnight hair and those strange, light green eyes. Her skin was not olive, but a pearlescent white that seemed to glow. She was dressed in deep red, cut to minimize her growing belly. ‘Why, Miss Landon! How delightful that you could come.’

Lucy was flattered; how could she not be in the face of such obvious sincerity? Julia Challender was either an extraordinarily good actress or she meant every word she said. Lucy was inclined to believe the later; Julia did not seem to be much of a dissembler.

‘Thank you for inviting me. It was very kind.’

Julia gave a gurgle of laughter. ‘Oh my dear, if you only knew. I am very unkind, just ask my poor husband. But I always go with my instincts and they told me that you are an interesting person and I do love interesting people.’

As Lucy felt she – a twenty-four year old spinster with a great many unsuccessful seasons behind her – was possibly the
least
interesting person in the room, there did not seem to be a great deal to say to that. Instead, Julia threaded an arm through hers and wandered the room, introducing her in the delightfully vague way that seemed to characterize most of what she did. She seemed to know a great many unattached men and it was towards these creatures that they seemed to gravitate the most. While Lucy might reasonably expect most to have been blinded by her hostess’ beauty, Julia had this remarkable trick of including Lucy in the conversation. Not only that, but she made Lucy feel positively brilliant. It was the most extraordinary thing.

Her unaccustomed enjoyment was interrupted after a time by the arrival of the Earl of Hamersley. He strolled up to his sister, nodding to the two gentlemen they had been engaged with, Mr. Forsythe and Mr. Enderby, as he bent to kiss her on the cheek.

‘Julia. You are positively blooming.’

Lucy’s pleasure dimmed, then died a natural death with the arrival of the earl. Of course, she had wanted him to turn up. As Thomas had said, earls and dukes were very popular in
On Dit
, but she had intended to watch him from afar and being in such close proximity made her squirm with discomfort. She knew it would be most unlikely that he would remember seeing her the previous day. Men like Hamersley did not remember nonentities such as she, but she felt awkward just the same. Especially when, unbidden, a picture of him and Lady Caroline Aster, as she had seen them on Tuesday night, arose in her mind’s eye. She could remember, very clearly, how he had had his hand up the lady’s dress and his face buried in her cleavage. More particularly, she could remember the satisfied little squeaks and sighs that Lady Astor had been making, as if whatever his lordship was doing was extremely pleasant.

The memory made her uncomfortably warm.

‘Rand,’ Julia smiled up at her brother, ‘let me introduce you to my new friend. This is Miss Lucy Landon.’

Rand bowed, eyes sweeping over her, but there was no recognition in them and Lucy felt a wave of relief. The last thing she wanted was the man suspecting
she
was Lady Libertine. She would be well and truly sunk.

‘Miss Landon.’

‘My lord.’

There followed five very uncomfortable minutes where she had to make polite conversation. It was odd, for it hadn’t been uncomfortable before the earl had arrived. Mr. Forsythe and Mr. Enderby were just as engaging. Julia was just as charming. But for Lucy something had changed and she wanted nothing more than to be gone and as soon as she could, she excused herself. She let out a breath as soon as she had made her escape. Men like Hamersley – wickedly attractive, desperately sinful men – should be made to wear a veil to lessen their impact; or possibly a sack on their heads. How odd that his arrival had somehow diminished the two perfectly amiable gentlemen she had been talking to! She wondered if
they
would have liked to see Hamersley in a sack. The thought of the man turning up in a burlap sack amused her so much that she grinned, but it vanished when a deep voice spoke at her shoulder.

‘Now, what is it you find so funny, Miss Landon?’

Lucy let out a small yelp of surprise, swinging round to find Hamersley at her shoulder. He had followed her! ‘You startled me!’ she said crossly.

He lifted an eyebrow. ‘You seemed so eager to escape. Julia said you found me boring.’

Lucy almost rolled her eyes, trying not to focus on her racing heartbeat. It was just that he had surprised her; that was all. Really, was the man so vain that he could not bear the idea that a woman did not find him fascinating? ‘It is warm in here. I merely wanted to get a glass of lemonade.’

If you happen to actually look at one.
‘I see.’ It was not much of a reply, but she could not think of another, not at the moment.