Never Love a Scoundrel (20 page)

This was the same tack he’d taken at Lockwood House. His evasion only made him look guilty, and his secrets only made him look like a blackguard. “That sounds like a threat.”

“Not from me. Didn’t I just prove that I’m on your side?”

“Stepping in to stop a young man from foolishly picking a fight with me isn’t precisely being on my side. Just because you don’t want someone else pummeling me doesn’t mean you weren’t eager to do it yourself just a few days ago.”

Ethan’s nostrils flared. “You started that.”

Jason was reminded of the quarrels they’d had as boys when Father had brought Ethan to Lockwood House. They’d been relegated to the nursery together and had fought over toys, books, the nurse’s attention, and most of all, their father’s affection.

He turned his head and stared at the sea of men, heard their laughter and cheering, felt their camaraderie. Suddenly he wanted that. It had been too long since he’d enjoyed something like this with someone who wasn’t in his employ—which wasn’t to impugn Scot, who was an excellent companion at an event like this. Jason looked at his half brother again, who was still staring at him with that probing gaze. “If you want me to trust you, you’ll have to earn it. Right now I have no reason to believe anything you say. Furthermore, I’m inclined to thrash you for what you did to Sevrin and his wife.”

Surprise flashed briefly in Ethan’s gaze before his eyes shuttered. He was quite good as masking his thoughts and emotions when he chose, but Jason was beginning to be able to read him. “Did Sevrin tell you about that?”

“He told me all about your interactions. You ought to be in gaol for what you did.”

Ethan scowled, but there was a hint of regret in the twist of his lips. “I didn’t hurt them. Well, that’s not exactly true. Some of my men might’ve been a little rough with Sevrin, but only because he was fighting them.” The corner of his mouth ticked up. “He’s a brilliant fucking pugilist.”

“So I’ve seen,” Jason said. “You might apologize to him.”

“I have. Or didn’t he mention that?”

How could Ethan be so cavalier? He really
ought
to be in gaol. “You can’t continue like that. I won’t be privy to any criminal behavior on your part. You’re very lucky Sevrin doesn’t bring charges against you.”

“I fully acknowledge that.” Ethan’s jaw clenched, making it seem the words were very hard to say. “You’re going to have to trust that I’m trying to change.”

Jason didn’t have to trust anything. They might’ve made a small bit of headway tonight, but they were a long way from brotherly love—if they’d ever achieve that. He wanted to make sure Ethan understood his position. “If you do anything to further ruin me, I’ll destroy you.”

Ethan gave a small bow. “I give you permission.”

Was this the same man who’d cowed a young man just a little while ago? The same man Bow Street suspected of running a theft ring? The same man who’d perhaps been romancing Lady Aldridge? Jason kept his voice low. “What were you doing with Lady Aldridge?”

Ethan had pivoted toward the fight and now cast Jason a sidelong glance. “I told you: no questions.”

“And I told you: You have to earn my trust.”

Ethan shook his head. “Not that way.”

His patience rapidly dissipating, Jason straightened and adopted a normal tone. “Then we’re done here.” He took a step, but Ethan stayed him with a firm, but not rough, hand on his arm.

“For now. But I’ll see you again soon.”

Jason shook him off, uncomfortable with almost brotherly gesture. “You’re clearly used to being in command, but not with me.”

Ethan glanced down. “Just so long as you don’t expect me to lick your boots.”

Jason recalled he had demanded something like that years ago. Was it any wonder they weren’t close? “Fine, we’ve both been pricks. I’ll endeavor not to be one now. Happy?”

Though he didn’t smile, Ethan’s eyes lit with something that might have been mirth. “Immensely.”

Chapter Twelve

THE NEXT
day, Lydia drafted a letter to Jason. It included her proposed guest list as well as the musicians he should hire. After Aunt Margaret reviewed it—and made her own adjustments—it was posted and delivered.

There was a slight chance a response would arrive today, but Lydia wouldn’t hold her breath. She resolved herself to a day without hearing from him. Or seeing him, since tonight she and Aunt Margaret planned to stay in.

Thankfully, Audrey called to break up the monotony of Lydia’s day. She greeted her friend in the sitting room facing the street. “Audrey, I’m so glad you’ve come to save me from expiring of boredom.”

Audrey smiled as she removed her bonnet. She set her hat on the settee and leaned toward Lydia. “Is your aunt about?” she whispered.

“She’s napping.” Lydia went and closed the door, then joined her friend who’d sat down on the settee.

Audrey huddled close. “What happened with Lord Lockwood last night? I was hoping to talk to you after the musicale, but I had to leave with my grandfather.” She frowned in regret.

Lydia’s heart fluttered as she recalled her interlude with Jason in the portrait gallery. She’d relived his kisses a thousand times since then, which had led to a rather sleep-deprived night. But Lydia didn’t care. “It was the most spectacular evening of my life.”

Audrey’s eyes widened. “Did he kiss you?”

Warmth rushed up the back of Lydia’s neck. “Yes.”

Audrey’s entire face lit up, and she clasped Lydia’s hand. “I’m so happy for you! You’re happy, aren’t you? You seem happy.”

Lydia squeezed Audrey’s fingers. “I’m practically giddy. But you know how Aunt Margaret feels about him. So for now, I have to tread cautiously.” Lydia had told Audrey all about her aunt’s hatred of his mother and her glee in anything negative that befell him.

Audrey shook her head. “There’s nothing she can do if he offers for you. Then you’ll be free of her, and you’ll be happy.”

Would she be happy with Lockwood? Sharing stolen kisses was one thing, but leg-shackled to a man with a reputation for sin? Actually, she didn’t mind the sin part—after all, she had enjoyed his kisses rather a lot—so long as he was still included in Society. Which he hadn’t been for quite some time. A situation he seemed rather content with.

She let go of Audrey’s hand. “I didn’t say I was going to marry Lockwood. Nor has he asked.” He hadn’t even indicated courtship, but then she suspected the kiss and subsequent kisses had caught him as unaware as they’d caught her.

“Oh.” Audrey’s face fell and her voice drooped with disappointment.

“Come now, don’t be melancholy,” Lydia cajoled. “I’m helping him to plan a party. One without his usual entertainments.”

Audrey blinked at Lydia in wonder. “Your aunt is letting you do that?”

Lydia cocked her head to the side. “In a way. I tried to convince her that it would be a social boon for me to help him, but she didn’t agree. So I had to promise that I would expose the secrets of Lockwood House.”

Audrey touched her arm. “You wouldn’t.”

“Of course not. But I had to say it to gain Aunt Margaret’s approval. Furthermore, she’s reading every letter that goes between me and Lockwood House so she can ‘supervise’ the planning.”

Audrey set her hands in her lap and gave Lydia a look that was a bit . . . Machiavellian. “You should have just helped him secretly. If you posted your missives to him through me, your aunt would never know. I’ll make sure he gets them.”

“You would do that?” Lydia straightened, her mind cavorting ahead of her tongue as she considered Audrey’s brilliant idea. But she didn’t want to get her friend into any trouble. “I hate for you to risk your own reputation by helping me.”

Audrey lifted a shoulder. “What are best friends for? Besides, I’m already a wallflower. No one would care if they learned I was corresponding with Lockwood House.”

Lydia hated that Audrey thought she was beneath everyone’s notice, but there was nothing she could do to change that since she was, unfortunately, correct. How foolish they all were too, because when it came to friendship and loyalty, Audrey had no match. “What a relief it will be to tell Aunt Margaret I’m no longer helping him. Thank you so much. I’m touched you’d risk so much to help me.”

Audrey blushed, and Lydia knew it was because she was unused to such praise. Her family rarely consulted her about anything. “As I said, I’ve very little to risk. You, on the other hand . . . ” Her gaze flicked to Lydia’s chin—and presumably the mark there. “You don’t have to stay with her.”

“And what would I do? Return to Prewitt Hundred to live amongst the sheep? I have no friends there and certainly no prospects.” She shuddered.

“No, but I could ask Grandfather if you could stay with us here in London.”

Lydia’s heart swelled at her friend’s kindness and concern, but it wouldn’t solve her problems. “My father wouldn’t allow it. He sends my allowance provided I remain under Aunt Margaret’s chaperonage. Besides, I wouldn’t put it past Aunt Margaret to publicly ruin me if I crossed her.”

Audrey audibly inhaled. “She hasn’t threatened that, has she?”

“Not directly, but she’s fond of reminding me that my position is enviable, that any young woman would delight to be under her care and protection, that I should feel extremely fortunate and demonstrate proper respect, given the tenuousness of my position.” The threat was clear enough to Lydia.

Audrey’s lips rippled in a soft frown. “I see.” She was quiet a moment, then a look of distress marred her features. “But then why would you help Lord Lockwood at all? If the risk of your aunt’s wrath is too great, why chance it?”

Lydia considered this. It was most definitely a risk, but she felt as if her time were running out. She didn’t know how much longer she could endure Aunt Margaret’s demands, not when she really and truly wanted to put gossiping behind her. “Because for once I have the opportunity to help someone instead of tear them down.”

Audrey smiled softly as she nodded. “I understand. And I’m so proud of you.”

Her words meant more to Lydia than anything. She was more determined than ever to help Lockwood be a success. He deserved nothing less, and she wouldn’t let her aunt ruin him. “I should write a letter to Lockwood now, if you truly don’t mind delivering it?”

“I offered, didn’t I?” Audrey’s gaze was direct and very comforting. “This will work, trust me.”

Lydia stood and went to the small desk in the corner.

“Don’t forget to tell him to respond via me,” Audrey said.

Lydia nodded as she pulled out a piece of parchment and dashed off a note informing Jason of her plan. She folded the paper and gave it to her friend as she sat back down beside her. “Here. I shall be on tenterhooks until you deliver a response.”

Audrey tucked the letter into her reticule. “I’ll post it straightaway. Or perhaps I’ll have a footman personally deliver it.”

Lydia touched her friend’s arm. “I don’t want to get you into any trouble, and sending your footman to Lockwood House may draw unwanted notice.”

“Pshaw. Like I said, no one will notice.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief, and Lydia wished all of London could see how smart and beautiful her dearest friend was. Lydia put her arm around Audrey’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Someone will notice you some day, and I daresay it’s going to be even more glorious than my portrait gallery rendezvous with Lockwood.”

“That would be very nice,” she said softly. “Very nice indeed.”

“Oh, that reminds me!” Lydia straightened. “I must tell you something, but you can’t tell a soul.”

Audrey’s eyes widened in mock outrage. “Lydia Prewitt, how many secrets have you entrusted to me over the years? You know I would never reveal anything on pain of death. Didn’t I just offer to be your secret courier?”

Lydia laughed. “Yes, but this isn’t
my
secret, it’s someone else’s, and I don’t want it repeated for a change.” The irony in her tone was thoroughly intentional. “I’m going to teach Mr. Locke how to dance. Actually, I think you should help me. It would be easier for me to direct him with a partner.”

“You want me to partner him?” Audrey looked a bit spooked. “I rarely dance.”

“Don’t be silly. That doesn’t mean you don’t know
how
. Besides, I don’t trust anyone else besides you to keep this a secret.”

“Why
is
it a secret?”

“People already question where he came from, and he’s a bastard to boot.” Lydia realized she’d extended her campaign of assistance to Lockwood’s half brother. Perhaps if she helped enough people, she’d be able to cancel out the hurt of the gossip she’d spread. But no, life wasn’t an accounting ledger and she couldn’t really expunge the things her aunt had forced her to do. She’d do good because it was right. “He’s simply trying to fit in.”

Audrey’s eyes took on a far-off look. “I can understand that.” She refocused on Lydia. “Of course I’ll help. But if you conduct the lessons here, there’s no way it will be a secret. Your aunt will broadcast the news everywhere. We’ll have to do it at my house.”

Lydia wasn’t sure that was the right solution either. “If Mr. Locke is seen visiting, that could raise eyebrows.”

Audrey laughed. “Maybe it will help my reputation. Really, Lydia, I don’t have anything to lose.”