My Lady Scandal (3 page)

‘A ceremonial sword when I am attending a social function usually suffices,’ the older man said dryly. ‘Did you manage to get a description of them? I am assuming there was more than one.’

‘Three of them,’ Grif agreed, ‘and no, I am afraid they were heavily disguised. Naturally, under the circumstances.’ He glanced at Viola, wondering if his cousin had retained her senses enough to have recognized that one of their assailants had been female. He hoped not. He had designs of his own in that area. She said nothing, however. Clearly, trauma had rendered her oblivious.

‘Even so… you know that scoundrel that styles himself ‘Captain Night’ was caught several days ago?’

‘I had heard of it.’

‘And a good thing, too. It is getting so nobody will be safe on the roads anymore. There has been talk of the army starting patrols if it gets much worse.’

‘I feel better already,’ Grif murmured. He looked at Viola. ‘We leave in half an hour. Will that be enough time for you?’

Viola looked at her cousin suspiciously. ‘For what, pray tell?’

‘Why to hook your dainty little talons into Frame, here. Kindly do not take too long about it. I find this gathering inexpressibly dull.’

Viola gasped, coloring up. ‘Really, Grif! I cannot imagine what -’

‘Pay him no mind, Miss. Durham,’ Frame interjected, casting an exasperated look at the unrepentant Grif, ‘he is clearly in one of his moods tonight and determined to be difficult.’

‘So true,’ Grif agreed maliciously, ‘I am difficult. And you, my dear Frame, are an honest, uncomplicated military man. You have my sympathy!’

Hugo and Viola watched him turn and stroll out of the room.

‘What do you suppose he meant by that?’ the Captain wondered, expression doubtful.

‘Devilment! Carlisle
always
means devilment,’ his loving cousin replied grimly, then touched Frame’s arm. ‘Oh, Hugo! I still feel most dreadfully faint…’

Chapter Two

Two days after Perry was wounded, he was out of bed and walking around, railing against his sister and housekeeper’s insistence that he remain in doors when he wanted to go for a ride.

‘I do not
want
to rest. I feel fine. I need some fresh air.’

‘You were shot, Perry,’ Nell pointed out, ‘Talbot says there is still a risk of infection.’

‘Rot! Never felt better.’

Emma, sitting by the window while she darned sheets, eyed him narrowly. She finally appeared to be on the mend herself, the wracking cough that had plagued her lessening with every day. ‘Hark to you! Louting about. Ye’d best be getting’ back to bed a’fore you fall in your boots.’

Perry grinned at her. ‘You are a regular Cassandra, aren’t you Em? But, truly… I am going mad cooped up inside.’

‘And you are driving us mad as well,’ Nell decided, laying aside the house accounts and standing up. ‘Come and take a turn around the garden with me. That way Emma can be sure you are not running amok. I wanted to talk to you, anyway.’

Perry surrendered with good grace and they stepped out into the pleasant morning sunlight. It was a deceptively mild Autumn day, the kind Nature turns on to remind you of the lost summer, before the arrival of bitter gusts that shake the leaves from the trees.

They had not been able to afford the gardeners that Holly Oak Hall deserved and the grounds had been allowed to run wild. Fortunately, it had been laid out so cleverly that the overgrown shrubbery and flowerbeds still managed to look very pretty, despite the neglect.

Nell slipped her arm through her brother’s and smiled up at him. ‘You gave me a nasty scare the other night, you know.’

‘I know. But indeed, I am perfectly well now, Nell. So much so that I was actually thinking -’

‘Do not say that you are planning to waylay another coach!’ Nell stopped abruptly and looked up at him, ‘for that would be a very foolish thing to do.’

He smiled down at her, pale golden hair – the same shade as her own - glinting in the sunlight. The Marriott children were very similar in looks, both fair, tall, straight and slender. While Peregrine was a fine looking young man, his sister, in the feminine version, was equally delightful and it might reasonably be assumed that they would make a tolerable entry into Society, despite their limited funds;
if
they could see their way forward to do so.

‘I am fine, Nell,’ he said gently. ‘T’was nothing more than a scratch. And truthfully, we cannot stop now. Yes, we have paid off the entails on the estate, but just look at the place! It’s falling down around our ears and you know it. If we do not do something, debt is not the only thing that will take the place from us. The family pile will really be just that; a pile, heaped upon the ground.’

Nell sighed. ‘I know.’

She led him over to a bench that was set beneath an oak. They had reached the end of the formal gardens and a low stone fence marked the boundary before their land dissolved into fields and hedgerows. The bench had been placed to make the most of the view across the gentle, rolling green land. They sat down, each of them stretching their legs out before them, surveying the landscape with satisfaction. Nell liked England and she knew her brother did, too. More than that, they liked the sense that this was their home, as
home
had been a foreign concept until they had returned six months before.

‘I have been thinking about it,’ Nell began, ‘and it seems to me that highway robbery is a chancy business.’ When her brother would have spoken, she held up a hand. ‘We need an income, indeed we do. So I was thinking of something a little less… exposed.’

Perry looked at her with raised eyebrows. ‘Such as?’

‘It is neither legal,
nor
honorable,’ she warned, ‘and, in its own way, it might be just as dangerous as the road.’

Her brother sat up straighter, intrigued. ‘Tell me!’

Nell was silent for a moment, playing with a tendril of hair that the breeze was teasing, tickling her ear. ‘We are Marriotts of Holly Oak Hall and we have been avoiding invitations from the local gentry since we have come back home. True?’

‘And?’

‘What if we start to accept the occasional invitation? I believe that the ladies wear some very fine pieces of jewelry to such events, while the gentlemen possess ornate fobs and even the occasional snuff box, although they are no longer in fashion. Then there are stick pins and brooches and the like.’ She was gazing towards the distant horizon thoughtfully.

Perry gave a crow of laughter. ‘Sink me, but my very proper sister is suggesting that we engage in a
different
kind of robbery! Now that is rich.’

Nell flushed a little. ‘I am not happy about it. But the truth is, we have less chance of being shot in such a venture. We attend a dance, we indentify who has a piece of jewelry, or some little knick-knack that they might well do without. And then we find a way to lay our hands on it. Talbot discovers a buyer in the usual way. But seriously,’ she added, turning to look at her brother, ‘this endeavor cannot continue for long. If we hope to launch a successful entrée into Society, we need to be discreet.’

‘Oh, aye, discreet,’ her brother agreed wryly. ‘But even if we do things modestly, we still need the ready to make our mark. Thanks to the efforts of our dear sires, there is not a tradesman in town who would give us so much as a groat on credit.’ His face took on a peculiarly twisted expression, a rare sight, for he was not inclined to the doldrums about the gravity of their situation. It was just that, every now and then, it caught him up and she glimpsed bitterness there. ‘I had hoped that things would be different in England.’

‘Oh, fie! We have everything we need to begin this venture.’ Nell tossed her pale golden curls. ‘Clothes in plenty - thanks to Mama - and they are from Paris, which makes them bang up to the mark. There is a carriage that, while it has seen better days, will still do the job. Things
will
be different here. We will make it so.’

‘And entertainment? How are we going to fete these people? We must do it properly. The ton will not settle for less than the best.’

‘We will manage,’ Nell said bracingly. ‘And we progress, Perry. Only consider our situation now as compared to three months ago.’

He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped at the sound of Talbot’s deep voice, slightly raised behind them. Both Marriotts rose as one and turned to look towards the house; they were surprised to see Talbot leading a tall, slender man towards them.

‘Well, now,’ Nell murmured, ‘who do you think that might be?’

‘Has to be gentry. Look at the clothing.’

‘But a guest? Now?’ It was a little late for a morning call, luncheon only a half an hour away. Nobody came calling at this time of day.

‘Nobody has left a card in a week.’

Both fell silent as Talbot approached with the stranger, each of them wondering why their manservant had not said that they were not at home. The big man stopped and nodded, expression bland.

‘G’tl man’s horse has thrown a shoe, Master Perry. Didn’t want it to run up lame so came to the closest house.’

Peregrine nodded amiably. ‘Talbot will be able to fix it. He is a wonder with horses.’

‘Very kind of you.’ A good voice, Nell noted automatically. Deep and smooth, each word pleasingly well modulated. ‘Forgive the informality; I hope you do not mind… when your man mentioned that I had stumbled across the Marriotts’ place, I could not resist paying my respects. I believe our parents knew each other tolerably well. My name is Griffin Carlisle. My father is the Earl of Thackeray.’

The son of an earl? That must make him The Right Honorable Viscount Carlisle. Nell met Talbot’s eye for a moment and caught the warning there before he turned and headed back towards the stables. She switched her gaze back to their unexpected guest, wondering what lay behind this intrusion. He looked vaguely familiar, although she was sure they had never met before and it was hardly a face she would forget. He was very dark; black hair, eyes so brown they might as well have been and a slightly olive complexion. An air of elegant indolence hung about him like an invisible cloak. That aura
,
and the fact that his clothes were impeccably cut, probably meant he had a great deal of money; or the expectation of some.

Had his family really been acquainted with her own? It was possible. She sometimes forgot that her parents had once had a life in England; friends and even the occasional relative that had fallen by the wayside in the past seven years. She had been thirteen when they had left and, up until their extended tour, had spent most of her life in the schoolroom. For all she knew her parents had socialized extensively with the man’s family.

Or he was lying.
But why would he? There was no reason to think his sudden arrival had anything to do with their disastrous outing two nights before.

Nell realized, with a small start of surprise, that much as she was summing him up, he was doing the same with her, those dark eyes sliding over her with the kind of comprehensive interest that should rightly have made her blush. Unfortunately, she was not the kind of girl given to blushing. He was certainly an extremely attractive creature and she gave an inward grimace. It had been so long since she had allowed herself to think like a female – appreciating the opposite sex - that she had almost forgotten how to manage it.

Just the same, his face was tweaking at her memory in the most irksome way; where had she seen him? Was it recently? There would not have been any opportunity in the normal course of events. She and Perry had yet to go into Society and unless this man had enjoyed spending time in some of the seedier boarding houses on the Continent in the past twelfth month, encountering him in Europe seemed unlikely.

He met her gaze and smiled a little, while Perry very belatedly remembered his manners. ‘Lord Peregrine Marriott, at your service, Sir. And this is my sister, Nell.’

Nell shot him a look. Talbot had expressly forbidden Perry the intake of alcohol, lest it trigger a flare up of his wound. Trust him to find a way around the edict.

‘Very kind of you,’ Carlisle said and the three of them walked towards the house. Nell was relieved to see that her brother was moving easily, showing no sign that he had been hurt. This man might be exactly what he seemed to be – a traveler who needed help – but by now word had gotten out about the failed robbery attempt on Shooter’s Hill, and everybody knew that somebody had been wounded and that they had likely gone to ground in the area. She wanted nothing to suggest that her brother might be that somebody.

Talbot must have dropped by the kitchens and worded up Emma that they had a guest, because not two minutes after they had entered the front parlor. It was the least lamentable room in the house, with its faded velvet couches and Aubusson rugs. Emma appeared with a serving tray laden with fresh baked scones, the best silver teapot and decent china cups.

‘Very nice, Emma,’ Perry said approvingly, ‘but we would like some of that Madeira, if you please. One of the bottles I found in the cellar the other day.’