Never Love a Scoundrel (21 page)

“Everyone is capable of being ruined.” Lydia didn’t want that to happen to someone as kind and thoughtful as Audrey.

“Not if you don’t care what other people think,” Audrey said quietly.

Was that true for Audrey? Did she not care what others thought of her? She certainly didn’t care about her wallflower status, and didn’t see the point in being popular. It was, Lydia acknowledged, interesting that the two of them had become such close friends.

Lydia stood. “I’ll write another note for you to deliver to Mr. Locke at the Bevelstoke. I don’t want to risk Aunt Margaret seeing me correspond with him either.” She sat at the writing desk once more and turned to Audrey. “When shall we do it?”

Audrey shrugged. “Thursday?”

“Thursday it is.” Lydia penned the letter, folded it, and gave it to Audrey.

Audrey tucked the missive into her reticule along with the note to Jason. “Locke won’t mind that you’re involving me?”

Lydia was a touch nervous about that, but had explained her reasoning in the letter. She’d also explained that Audrey was the most trustworthy sort—more than Lydia—and since he’d seen fit to entrust her with his secret, he’d have to accept Audrey into the bargain.

And if he didn’t? Lydia chose not to think about that.

LATER THAT
afternoon, Jason sat in his office with Scot, regaling him with the story of his encounter with Ethan at the Bucket of Blood.

“You didn’t discuss the Curzon Street robbery with him?” Scot asked.

Jason shook his head. “He wasn’t forthcoming. I tried to ask him about Lady Aldridge, but he wouldn’t say anything beyond asking me to trust him. Can you imagine?” Jason still wasn’t prepared to ignore a lifetime of animosity and blindly trust Ethan—particularly when he was a criminal and clearly hiding something. Or somethings.

“Pity I haven’t been able to learn anything at the Bevelstoke.” Scot crossed his arms. “Jagger genuinely seems like an ordinary gentleman who just happens to employ a somewhat odd-looking manservant.”

Yes, Ethan was quite accomplished, but then a criminal like him would have to be.

“When do you plan to see him next?” Scot asked. “And can I come? I think I need to see this for myself.” He’d been shocked that Jason and Ethan had shared a conversation without coming to blows.

Jason leaned back and stretched his legs out beneath the desk. “He’ll be coming here for my party.”

Scot rested his elbows on the arms of the chair and leaned forward. “Do you really think you can pull off a ‘vice-free’ party?”

Before Jason could answer, North entered bearing a letter. “This was just delivered, my lord.”

As it was written in a feminine hand, Jason wondered if it was from Lydia. He tore open the missive and read its contents.

Jason,

I will need to help you plan your party in secret. Do not be concerned about this! All correspondence will be filtered through Miss Audrey Cheswick. We are confirmed on the date of two Fridays hence?

Additionally, I should like to set up a meeting at Lockwood House so that I can ascertain the entertainment space and perhaps sample some of your cook’s offerings. Please advise.

Yours,

Lydia

Yours.

Was she his? He didn’t necessarily want her to be—the whole marriage avoidance thing—but the signature gave him a thrill nonetheless. He suddenly couldn’t wait to see her. “North, do I have an invitation to something tonight?”

“You do not, my lord.”

Jason suddenly realized he was at least partially smiling and only hoped he didn’t look like a mooncalf. He schooled his features into indifference. “Tomorrow?”

North inclined his head. “A dinner party.”

“That from your lady?” Scot asked with more than a hint of teasing in his tone.

Jason gave him a mock glare. “It’s from Lady Lydia. She is not my lady.” He turned his attention to North, whose eyebrow was raised just the faintest bit. He would never offer cheek like Scot—not that Jason would’ve cared since he liked the camaraderie he shared with both men—but the subtle reaction was telling. “Out with it, North.”

“Has Lady Lydia given any further instruction?”

“No. She only confirmed the date of the party. She already sent the guest list and the names of musicians, correct?” Jason trusted North to handle everything, just as he did for the other parties.

“Indeed, my lord.”

Jason recalled the other part of her missive. “And we need to plan for her to tour Lockwood House.”

Scot leaned forward in his chair. “She’s coming here?”

“Are you sure that’s wise?” North asked. “I can easily describe the room situations to her via post.”

Jason wasn’t sure it was wise at all, particularly given how badly he wanted her. “Perhaps.”

Scot grinned at his brother. “He wants to bring her here.”

North arched a brow in response.

Scot winked obnoxiously at Jason. “You going to show her the dress-up room?”

He hadn’t thought of that, but now images of her in the fantasy room crowded his mind. Oh no, inviting her here wasn’t a good idea at all. “No, I simply require her help. What the devil do I know about planning a legitimate party?”

Scot shrugged. “You host the most illicit parties in London and now you want to invite a young miss into your lair. I’d say you know next to nothing about planning a legitimate anything.”

North coughed, but it sounded suspiciously like he was covering up a laugh.

“What an insolent pair you are,” Jason said without heat. He speared both men with a suffering stare. “I’ll think about whether it’s appropriate to arrange a meeting here.”

“Sounds like you care about her,” Scot said without even a hint of sarcasm.

Yes, he supposed he did, but he was still a bit reticent. So far she’d proven herself to be different from her aunt—just how much remained to be seen. “I do.”

“When’s the wedding?” There was the sarcasm.

Jason raised his eyes to the ceiling. “Oh, for Christ’s sake, caring about her doesn’t mean I’m going to marry her.”

Scot, ever the nosy-Jones, cocked his head to the side and asked, “Why’d you show Cora the door then? You’ve never kept on with anyone so long, and her departure seemed abrupt.”

Jason wasn’t entirely sure except that after she’d come to his office and seen him in that state, he just couldn’t take her to bed again. “I was ready for a change.” But for marriage? He’d completely written that off.

Scot unfolded his arms and held them up in surrender. “All right.” His eyes were mischievous as he turned them back toward Jason. “But if you’re ready for a change and Lady Lydia isn’t your preference, I know a couple of Cyprians you should invite to the next party. One of them is new to Town. Tall, blond, legs to here.” He held his hand up to a thoroughly hyperbolic height above his head.

“Thank you, Scot,” North said crisply. “If you spent half as much time focusing on your duties as you do tossing up skirts, you’d be the most sought-after valet in town.”

Scot rolled his eyes. “I was so hoping Sarah would work that stick out of your arse.”

“Yes, well, we can’t all be as loose as you.”

Jason didn’t bother hiding the smile their bickering brought to his lips. They were brothers through and through—teasing each other, supporting each other, loving each other. Was there any chance he and Ethan could have the same? Jason had never, ever imagined it. And now?

North gave a small bow to Jason. “I have duties that require my attention, my lord.” He threw his brother an accusatory glance that clearly asked whether Scot should be doing something.

“What?” Scot said, looking up at his brother in mock innocence. “His lordship isn’t unhappy with my performance.”

Pursing his lips, North turned and left.

Jason shook his head at Scot. “Would it kill you to give your brother a rest?”

Scot leaned back in his chair and waved his hand. “I already owe him for saving my life. If I didn’t give him a ration of shit now and again, he’d be absolutely insufferable.”

North had saved his brother. He’d pulled him off the street just after he’d succumbed to joining a theft gang. Then he’d talked Jason into giving him a position in the stable. Scot had hated it, but he’d done a good job and when Jason’s staff had abandoned him after his fight with Ethan and after he broke Lockwood House up in a rage, North and Scot were the only ones who’d stayed. In a way, they’d both saved him.

A galling question pervaded Jason’s brain: Who’d saved Ethan?

The painful and somewhat shocking answer was quite clear: no one.

Chapter Thirteen

LYDIA’S HEART
beat in triple time as Jason stepped into the drawing room of Mr. and Mrs. Horwatt’s fashionable town house in Hanover Square the following evening,. He looked outrageously handsome in black evening clothes, his snow white cravat in stark contrast, just as the scar on his face was in direct opposition to the utter beauty of everything else about him.

His gaze found hers and his lips spread into a small smile, which only increased her excitement. Her belly tumbled over itself and she wondered how she’d ever be able to eat a thing at dinner.

She slid a look at her aunt, who was deep in conversation with Lady Dunthorpe. They both glanced toward the doorway, which gave Lydia to believe they were discussing Jason’s arrival. Lydia’s protective instincts kicked up and she had to restrain herself from walking over to speak with him.

Aunt Margaret had been pleased to know that Lydia would not be participating in the planning of Jason’s party any longer, though she’d been disappointed at not learning Lockwood House’s secrets. Her disappointment, however, was short-lived when the invitation to the party had arrived that morning. She planned to use the event as an opportunity to unmask all of the seedy things that happened at Lockwood House. Lydia had pretended to support her cause while trying to determine her aunt’s plot, which wouldn’t be easy.

She needed to speak with Jason, but couldn’t do so in front of her aunt. She needed to get him alone for just a few moments. It was too bad Audrey wasn’t here to aid her.

Trying to appear as nonchalant as possible, she crossed the drawing room and quietly asked Mrs. Horwatt where she could find the retiring room. Armed with directions to the back corner of the town house, Lydia made her way to the doorway. This brought her into Jason’s proximity and she murmured, “Follow me to the retiring room in a moment, but be discreet.”

She didn’t look back to see if he had heard what she said, but trusted that he had.

A few moments later, she was pacing a small sitting room. It was well lit, with multiple lamps and a pile of coal burning in the grate. It was also where anyone might show up for a respite. Perhaps it was not the best place for a private meeting.

The sound of the door opening drew her attention—and her anxiety. She exhaled as Jason walked inside and closed the door behind him.

He frowned, which was not the reaction she might’ve liked. “Lydia, this is not a good idea.”

“I need to speak with you.” She moved toward another doorway and gingerly opened the door.

Jason came up beside her, eliciting a shiver along her neck. “What are you doing here alone?” he whispered.

“Trying to find a more appropriate place than the retiring room where anyone can enter.”

The door led to a small dining chamber, perhaps the breakfast room. A round table sat in the center and was encircled with a half dozen chairs. Lydia moved inside, and Jason quickly followed.

He closed the door and frowned again. “It doesn’t appear to have a lock.”

There was another door on the opposite wall, but Lydia didn’t want to open it. What if it led to the grand dining room where they were to have dinner soon? She hadn’t been to the Horwatts’ home before and didn’t want to take the chance.

Meanwhile, Jason had propped a chair from the table against the door and was now doing the same to the second door.

“Is that really necessary?” she asked, though she was pleased he was going to such lengths to preserve her reputation.

He completed his work and directed his full attention upon her. “More necessary than you suggesting I follow you.” He kept his voice low as he moved to stand in front of her. “What is so important that you’ve decided to completely flaunt Society’s rules?”