Love's Justice (Entangled Scandalous) (3 page)

Chapter Four

“My lord, Lord Percy has arrived and has asked to see you.” Dennison was in the doorway with the door held slightly ajar behind him.

Hugh looked up from his papers and nodded. “You can let him in.”

Dennison quickly stepped aside as Henry Percy barged through the door. “Montgomery! Where have you been hiding yourself? Has to be a fortnight at least since we’ve seen you at the club.”

“Percy, good to see you. I haven’t been hiding. Just a bit of a build up of cases I was trying to deal with before the holidays.” Hugh rose from behind his desk and extended a hand to the tall, thin man before him, not at all happy about the interruption. Still he was pleased to see his old friend.

Henry Percy was thirty-three years old. His severe features were softened by the exaggerated facial hair he always sported regardless of the current style. His reddish-blond hair was, at the moment, longish and, together with his extended muttonchop whiskers, he looked like some elegant Ichabod Crane. Ironically “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” by the American Washington Irving was a story Lord Percy enjoyed reading to his eight children. With a set of ten-year-old twins and another child almost every year of his marriage, he had a rapt audience. His wife, Lady Edith, daughter of the Duke of Argyll, was even now expecting their ninth child, and Hugh had to smile. It was evident Percy’s enthusiasm carried over into the bedroom. But both Percy and Lady Edith seemed happy with their growing brood, and at times Hugh envied them.

He and Percy had attended Oxford together. Percy’s father was the sixth Duke of Northumberland, and the title would pass to Henry Percy upon his father’s death. The family estate, Syon House, was set on two hundred exquisitely landscaped acres ten miles west of London and was renowned for its beauty.

“What brings you to town, Percy?”

“I’ve come for some business, but I wanted to warn you Edith is planning on you joining us for Christmas Eve.”

Hugh started to answer but was interrupted.

“No, you cannot say no. Edith will never forgive me if you don’t come. She is determined to see you married, you see. She wishes to quiz you on your preferences, no doubt.”

Hugh smiled. Edith had been determined to see him married for over ten years and had had little success. He was not the kind of man who needed marriage. He had his work and his friends. What could a wife add to his life?

“Not to worry, Percy. It’s always a pleasure. Tell Lady Edith I will not let her down. Being with all of you on Christmas Eve is the highlight of the holiday season for me.”

“You don’t have to go that far with me, Monty. But I hope you don’t see it as an obligation. To us you’re family. I hope you see us that way as well.”

Hugh clapped his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You and Edith are my dearest friends. I envy you sometimes. You have found love within the strictures of our society. Not an easy task, I would chance to guess.”

Percy smiled. “I hold out great hope you will find love in the not too distant future. I dare say with all these American heiresses around, you might find one of them appealing. They seem much more adventuresome than the English women of my acquaintance.”

Hugh laughed and walked to the window of his office. “I had one of them in my courtroom recently. A Victoria Westwood. Perhaps you’ve read about it. She was engaged to a distant relative of yours, Lord Stanford.”

“Stanford, what a rogue and scoundrel! He touts his relationship to our family yet at the same time he drags our name down to the depths of depravity. I pity any woman who has to deal with such a man. I wish the whole sordid mess over. But it isn’t my place to judge. That, my friend, is up to you. And I wish you well with it.”

“Don’t worry about your comments, Percy. I have no prejudices either way,” Hugh said. “Or if I have them, they are against both parties equally. This business of cash for a title is a bit unsavory to my taste.”

Lord Percy checked his pocket watch. “Well, I should be on my way. I have an appointment with my banker at three.”

“Give my best to Edith.”

Percy waved his good-bye with the kid gloves in his left hand as he walked out of his chambers.

It was over an hour before Hugh was disturbed again by a soft knock on the door.

“My lord?”

“Yes, Dennison, what is it?” Hugh said rather sharply, upset to be disturbed again.

The man took a step into the office and stopped. “I’m sorry, my lord, but I was to remind you of the invitation you received yesterday.”

Hugh shuffled through the papers on his desk until he found the vellum envelope with the thick wax seal. He didn’t need to open it. He recognized the seal, knew the sender, and the nature of the invitation. It was extended every year, and it was the one invitation he dared not turn down.

He took a piece of his own stationary and quickly penned a response. He placed the card in its envelope. “Here you are, Dennison. You’ll see it is sent to the prince.”

“Yes, my lord.” Dennison took the note but didn’t leave immediately.

Hugh frowned. “What is it now?”

“I have heard through my brother, who works for the prince, the American woman has been invited.”

“Jennie Churchill?”

“No, no, my lord. The woman from the lawsuit, Victoria Westwood.” Dennison’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as he delivered the news. If he expected a reaction, he would be disappointed.

Hugh had begun to admire Miss Westwood. She was determined to face English law straight on despite any personal consequences. He remembered her eyes and fine features and an unfamiliar feeling arose in him that had little to do with admiration.

It startled him. It had been a long time since he had had any feelings close to those he now experienced. He prided himself on his objectivity and logic. He would have to control these unusual impulses. Any reliance on feelings would lead only to pain and misery.

“The prince has always had a fascination with American women. No doubt Victoria Westwood’s lawsuit is the topic of many a conversation in his entourage,” Hugh responded without emotion.

“Yes, no doubt.” The clerk shook his head enthusiastically before continuing, “I have taken it upon myself to make an appointment with your tailor, my lord. You know His Royal Highness requires a certain level of…” He didn’t have to finish. It was a topic much discussed in previous years and an argument Hugh regularly lost.

But Dennison didn’t leave immediately. “What is she like, my lord?” he said.

“Who?” Hugh asked.

“The American woman.”

Hugh was surprised by his clerk’s interest. “Does it matter?”

Dennison shook his head and retreated. But Hugh didn’t immediately go back to his work. He took a moment to answer the question himself. Surprisingly, he decided it did matter—very much.

Chapter Five

Victoria stared out at the dense fog and her spirits fell. She pulled her beautiful cloak more tightly around her and laid her head back against the tufted seat of the enclosed carriage. Closing her eyes, she imagined her home back in New York.

The city would have a white mantle of snow. She would have smelled the slightest hint of a wood fire in the air. The sky would be bright with stars and the streets alive with revelers. Snow would have sparkled in the lamplights, and laughter would have lilted across the quiet night air.

Here in London, she felt trapped in the giant maw of a place from which there was no escape. She should have found a way to accept Emily’s offer of her husband as an escort. A feeling of foreboding took hold. She was tempted to tell the driver to return her to her home on Grosvenor Square.

She couldn’t go home to New York, not to her father’s suffocating rules. But she was not free in England anymore, certainly not until the lawsuit was settled. Then she would be free—but perhaps destitute.

The Emile Pingat gown that had given her so much pleasure when she had shown it to Emily had to serve as her armor. The ruby necklace Emily had loaned her was indeed the finishing touch to the breathtaking ensemble. Let them all stare and gossip. Let them all titter and whisper. She would not let anyone deprive her of her self-respect.

Her ebony hair was piled high, and she would be as tall as all but the tallest men in the assemblage. She no doubt would tower over the Prince of Wales, who was five foot five at most. Maybe it was bad etiquette, but she no longer cared. She would not be cowed by anything or anyone. She threw her shoulders back and sat a bit taller in the carriage.

They were traveling along a high stone wall and at its end, the carriage turned into a scene of blinding light. There were carriages and liveried footmen everywhere in the large gaslit courtyard. The palace itself was an impressive structure of red brick with white stone trimming. For a moment, Victoria was afraid she would lose heart again.

With great effort, she settled herself before the door was opened by a liveried footman and she was offered a hand to descend. The commotion around her was a protection from prying eyes. She walked up the several stairs to the front and took in a small breath. Nothing in her entire life had prepared her to meet the heir to the throne of England.

…

“The Right Honorable Earl of Montgomery, Lord Chancellor of the Exchequer.”

Hugh’s presence was announced to the large group gathered in the drawing room of Marlborough House. Lord Percy glanced his way and nodded. The prince and his wife were typically on opposite sides of the room ensconced with their own retinues. Princess Alexandra of Denmark accepted her husband’s endless flirtings with a certain aplomb. The prince’s mother, Queen Victoria, on the other hand, despaired of her eldest son. His love affairs scandalized her. At the age of sixty, she showed no signs of slowing down and no doubt would live a very long life, if only to punish Bertie and deny him the throne.

It was mostly women—American women no doubt—who surrounded the prince, taking in every word, laughing at every joke. It seemed he had become entranced by American girls. Their audacity and freedom from chaperones made them ideal targets for his endless pursuit. The prince, or Bertie to his friends, was on the left of the heavily paneled room. Hugh recognized only one of the women—the Duchess of Manchester. She was a great beauty and a particular favorite of the prince’s.

The house had no ballroom. The prince held court in the home’s large sitting room. The party extended to the dining room and Indian room with a covered walkway leading still farther to a marquee, a large tent with open sides, erected on the lawn where supper would be laid.

Hugh strolled quietly through the rooms, taking in the sight of various royalty and hangers-on of the prince. After his brief tour, he returned to where Percy was speaking with several other men.

“Montgomery, how good to see you,” Percy said. “I had forgotten you always make an appearance at the prince’s Christmas party.”

Hugh continued to study the room.

“Who are you looking for? I’ve never seen you quite so interested in this group.”

“No one in particular.”

“I would believe you, if I had ever seen you this attentive before. It seems years since you’ve taken an interest in these gatherings.”

Hugh forced his attention back to his friend. “I had just heard something that intrigued me, that’s all.”

“Now you do have my curiosity up, old fellow.”

“It was just a piece of gossip. Probably not true at all.”

“And are you going to share?” his friend prodded.

“No, Percy. I’m not.” He smiled.

Lord Percy changed the subject. “The ladies do look particularly brilliant tonight. I haven’t seen so many French gowns in one place since…last year at this party.” He laughed in evident good humor. “You need a drink. It is, after all, the start of the holiday season. Let me get you something.”

“There’s no need. I can fend for myself quite well.” Still, he couldn’t stop himself from scanning the room.

“The beverages are in the next room.” Percy nodded in that direction. “I’ll accompany you.” He turned to start off.

“Miss Victoria Westwood, of New York.”

The announcement was made to the assembly, and there was a noticeable pause in the chatter.

“Monty?” Percy had turned back. “Are you coming?”

Hugh was too enthralled to answer. Victoria Westwood had entered and with her came all the unfamiliar and dangerous feelings he had tried to ignore. He would be a fool to pursue them.

Chapter Six

Victoria didn’t know if it was her imagination or not, but when she was announced, the din of the party seemed to quiet a bit. All eyes were on her. It convinced her the invitation had been made out of curiosity.

The house and the rooms were very different than she had imagined. It was comfortable and beautiful, but it did not compare to some of the great houses she had visited on her little tours with Emily.

The fact that it had no ballroom was her first surprise. Instead, the orchestra had been installed at the far end of the large sitting room she was in. She tried to maintain her smile as she walked slowly into the busy room. She gazed at the paintings on the wall and nodded politely to other guests. Still, every eye was covertly on her.

The man she wanted to meet was with others in a far corner. With measured steps, she glided across the floor until she had reached the object of her search. Several people stepped aside to let her through.

“Your Royal Highness.” Victoria executed a deep curtsy.

The Duchess of Manchester whispered something in the prince’s ear. He nodded. “Miss Westwood, how kind of you to have come. You are alone?”

“Yes, Your Highness. I did not think your invitation extended to an escort.”

“Ah, yes. Well, you may be at ease and enjoy the festivities. Stanford had the gall to reject my invitation. He was always one to carry on with his own diversions.”

The women around him giggled or snickered. Blood rushed to Victoria cheeks, and she was suddenly very warm.

“Now, now, my dear things. Shhh.” The prince quieted the small group before turning to Victoria. “You are far more beautiful than I have heard. I should not question why Stanford would resist losing you.”

“I’m afraid it is my money Lord Stanford fears losing.” Her words were intentionally harsh. She would not tiptoe around the very thing they all laughed about.

The prince was not put off. “I suspect Stanford has no idea of what he could lose in you, my dear.” He took her hand and kissed it, holding it a bit longer than he should have. This act silenced his entourage. It was, Victoria supposed, a backward compliment. Still, it made her uncomfortable. She didn’t want him to think she would consider a dalliance with him, regardless of his position.

“If you’ll excuse me, I see acquaintances,” she said.

“By all means. Enjoy! Enjoy!”

Victoria walked slowly across the room. The guests had grown quiet.

Yes, I am the woman you have gossiped about so openly. If you believe Lord Stanford’s tirades, I am simply a title hunter and ingrate, undeserving of your attentions. The lawsuit is as scandalous as a divorce or perhaps more so and you think I am both wanton and ignorant.

She smiled broadly and surveyed those who were studying her. With her straightforwardness, they soon diverted their gazes. She smoothed her dress, raised her head, and quickly sought escape from the room.

Only to unexpectedly encounter a familiar face.

…

“She is a beauty.” Lord Percy taunted his friend after they had sought a beverage in the Indian room. The orchestra in the corner of the drawing room had begun to play. The music floated about them and protected their conversation.

Hugh refused to rise to the tease. “Is Jennie Churchill here? I hadn’t noticed her.”

Lord Percy choked, almost spitting his champagne on his friend. “Haven’t you heard? The prince is displeased with the Churchills over this Aylesford affair.”

“What affair is that?” Hugh asked, nonchalantly sipping his own drink.

“You must keep up on all the gossip, Montgomery. How else will you know with whom to socialize?” Percy playfully badgered him, fully aware Hugh cared little about society. “You have totally distracted me. But that is what you intended I suspect. No, the beauty I was referring to was the Westwood woman. She is as exotic as I suspect she is dangerous.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Percy.”

“I think you know very well what I am talking about. Clearly beyond being simply beautiful, she evidently has a great deal of spunk.”

“Spunk?”

“Don’t be so dull and fastidious, my friend. She surely is unlike most women of my acquaintance. I can think of few who would take it upon themselves to challenge a potential suitor in the courts.”

“It was evidently that drunkard, Stanford, who started the whole thing,” Hugh said.

“But what a riposte on her part. Hiring William Manning to fight him. Against even her father’s wishes.”

Something then caught Lord Percy’s attention. He was looking past Hugh. His eyes lit up with mischief as he gestured at someone behind him to join them.

Hugh had grown tired of his friend’s teasing and was eager to return to the drawing room, though he was reluctant to admit why, even to himself.

“Please join us.” Percy extended the invitation, and Hugh stepped back to make room for the new addition to their party.

“Miss Westwood,” Percy said, “how delightful to see you again.”

…

“Lord Percy. How kind of you to include me in your conversation.” Victoria smiled at the earl, whom she had met through Emily a month or so earlier. Relief washed over her.

The second gentleman in the group looked terribly familiar, but she couldn’t identify him. He had caught her attention almost immediately. He was tall, taller even than Lord Percy. About the same age, with dark hair that fell haphazardly over his starched collar. His mouth was full and set in a wide chin. His eyes seemed most familiar. They were a deep brown and alertly intelligent. He was very handsome. That was not lost on Victoria. She had met few truly handsome men in her time in London. Most were thin and sharp-faced, but this man was different. He was clean shaven, unlike most of the other men in the room who sported beards, mustaches, or long sideburns. She found it pleasantly refreshing even if it was not the height of fashion.

“You are the most beautiful creature at the ball tonight,” Lord Percy gushed.

Victoria felt herself blushing. “You’re most kind, indeed.”

“He is not being kind,” the second man added without a smile but with an intensity that startled Victoria. “He is being truthful.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what to say then, sir.”

“An acknowledgement of gratitude would be in order, I believe,” the handsome stranger prodded her to respond.

Lord Percy chortled. He was clearly enjoying himself.

A pretty, fair-haired woman had approached and touched Lord Percy’s sleeve familiarly. “Henry, I need you for a moment.”

“Lady Percy, what a pleasure to see you again,” Victoria said.

“Miss Westwood, it is a pleasure for me as well. I must have my husband for a moment. He must confirm my claim in another conversation, or I shall never be believed again.” She smiled kindly.

“Then if you’ll excuse me.” Lord Percy turned to go, hesitated, and then turned back. “But where are my manners? I have not properly introduced you. Miss Victoria Westwood, may I present the Earl of Montgomery and currently Lord Chancellor of the Exchequer. But you’ve already met, I believe.”

He laughed, delighted, clearly in good humor, then quickly turned and left with his wife.

Victoria stood paralyzed by her failure to recognize the very man who controlled her destiny.